Page 48 of Make it Real
“Now you’re talking.”
“I might even hit ten miles an hour.”
“You daredevil.”
Her big, exaggerated wink made something in my chest tighten. I’d known getting involved with her would be a bad idea, but this—confiding in her and then laughing with her, sharing an ache and then soothing it—proved I’d underestimated the threat.
FIFTEEN
jed
I wasn’tsurprised when I rolled up to Callie’s house for our next date, to find the driveway already full of cars. She’d said her grandma and friends had weekly round-robin dinners and conveniently planned to be here tonight. Still, hadn’t expected the little shiver of nerves that wove through me.
I wanted to impress these women. It’d never slipped my notice that I usually impressed women, just not for any reasons that really mattered. But these women knew Callie better than anyone, and they wanted only the best for her. And now, in spite of my initial arguments to the contrary, I wanted them to believeIcould be the best for her.
Even if I knew it couldn’t last, I wanted to believe it, too.
As I rang the doorbell, anticipation buzzed up my arm like the thing’d been electrified. The granny crew would likely watch our every interaction so they could pick us apart as soon as we left, but that’d been the point. Give them a better chance to see us together and maybe set her grandma’s mind at ease. I just needed to rock the whole boyfriend schtick.
Truth be told, being Callie’s boyfriend got easier by the day.
The door flew open, revealing Rita in a hot pink blouse cut lower than I’d really expect to see on a woman in her seventies. No age-shaming here, but the cut seemed excessive for a friendly dinner party.
“Well, Jed, how wonderful to see you.” She batted her eyelashes and presented her hand, more like she wanted me to kiss it than shake it, but I took it in mine. “Don’t you look handsome tonight?”
“Thank you, ma’am. You’re looking lovely yourself.”
“Oh.” She fluttered that hand in front of her chest. “Aren’t you the sweetest?”
“All right, Rita, you’ve had your fun.” Callie appeared out of nowhere, slipping her arm around my waist and gluing herself to my side. “Let the man be.”
If this was her staking a claim, I encouraged it. Not that she had any worries where Rita was concerned, but I liked the possessiveness.
She tilted her chin up to face me. “Hey.”
“Well, hey, Callie Lou.” I snaked an arm around her, locking her in tight. “Are you ready to go?”
Her mouth dropped open to answer, but a voice from the next room cut her off.
“Why don’t y’all come in and say hello for a minute?” Her grandma Suzie stood in the dining room, beckoning us closer. And—was that a knife in her hand? “Unless you’ve got a schedule to keep.”
Glancing down at Callie, we exchanged a silent back and forth. Seeing her smile, I nodded to Suzie. “No schedule tonight.”
Also, probably best not to argue with the woman holding a knife.
“Come see what we’re making. It’s going to be delicious.”
We followed Rita into the kitchen. The rest of their group made full use of the small space, whether chopping ingredients or stirring something simmering on the stove. Every last one beamed at me, making it known I was more than welcome.
At least I’d never want for approval in this house.
“It smells incredible in here.” The scent of ginger and beef wafted around in the air, along with subtler notes I couldn’t identify. “What are you fixing?”
“We’re making pho.” Suzie put her knife to work slicing what looked like beef sirloin.
“Authentic pho,” Carmen clarified as she chopped up a bundle of basil.
I couldn’t imagine I’d have known the difference between real and fake pho, but from everything the ladies were chopping and seasoning, they took the task seriously. “Sure looks like you’re doing it right.”
