Page 41 of Dating the DILF
“It’s fine. Yes, I could do without having my picture taken as I leave the gym and finding it plastered all over the internet but—”
“They did that?” I bark.
“Not my best moment.” She giggles. “But apparently a girl needs to keep her figure trim when she’s coming between a true love like yours and Aspen’s.” I roll my eyes at her. “Seriously, I can deal with it.” She lifts my hand off her thigh and threads her fingers between mine. “You’re worth it, Miles. I don’t think you have any idea how worth it you are.” She brings our hands up to her mouth and kisses my fingers.
“Now, enough of this. I have been freaking out about this dinner all week. That is the issue we need to be focusing on.”
“Why are you freaking out?” I don’t try to hide my amusement. “You’ve spoken to my dad on the phone and he already loves you more than me. You’ve met Gray. There’s nothing to be worried about.”
“God, you sound so sure, I want to punch you.” She drops my hand with a sigh of exasperation. “I want them all to like me. I don’t make a very good first impression.”
“They’ll love you,” I insist but she just levels me with another glare. “C’mon, I saw you at your work thing, you had them eating out of the palm of your hand.”
“That was work, Miles. Is your dad going to ask me how to file a government report? Is Thomas going to ask me about the key rules for negotiating an employee contract? No.” She shakes her head vehemently. “They’re going to ask me things like where I grew up, whichsoundslike a very simple question, but ten minutes later when I’m rambling about the time I fell and twisted my ankle because my poppa’s car had broken down so I was running for the subway, they’re going to think I’m a nutcase!”
“Rambling like that, you mean?” I side-eye her with a huge grin, but her stony expression tells me she doesn’t find the humor in the situation. “Well, prepare thyself, Chicago, because we’re here.” I pull into my dad’s driveway, behind Thomas’ SUV and cut the engine. “You ready?”
Her face is ashen and there are tiny little beads of sweat along her hairline. I would laugh but I’m pretty sure the punch comment wasn’t an empty threat.
I lean over and grip her neck, running my thumb along her jaw. “You have nothing to worry about. We’re going to go in and eat some good food, have some laughs and that’s it.” I want to taste her, but I know if I start I won’t be able to stop, so instead, I place a gentle kiss on her upturned nose. “Now, let’s go.”
We walk to the front door of my dad’s bungalow, and Charlie exclaims over how cute the place is. I try to look at it through her eyes, but to me, it’s just home. No matter where I live, this place will always feel like coming home.
I open the door and the smell of my dad’s taco casserole is like a punch in the face. It’s the only dish he knows how to make, and he only brings it out when he’s keen to impress.
“Wait.” Charlie pulls me to a stop and looks at me panicked. “Your dad is Robert, brother is Thomas and his wife is Chrissy. What are their kids’ names again? Taylor?” She’s clenching my hand hard and I wonder if she might pass out.
“Tully, Carson, and Shae. You need to relax.” I pull her into a hug, enjoying the way her head fits right under my chin, and bury my nose in her coconut-scented hair. “No one is going to care if you forget their name.”
“Is that you, Miles?” we hear my dad shout. “Get your ass back here, your daughter’s refusing to put her clothes on.”
“See.” I pull back. “Forgetting a name is the least of our worries.”
“Hey, Gray,” I shout across the table. A second later a hand is thrust over my mouth and Lulu, who has planted her ass on Charlie’s lap most of the night, glowers at me.
“Don’t yell, Daddy.Christ.”
Jesus Christ indeed.
I stare at her dumbfounded, trying to decide if I should remind her,again, about appropriate language. Charlie makes the decision for me, quietly whispering in her ear and handing her another cannoli to eat.
“What’s up, douche?” Gray smirks at me across the table.
“I’m going to be near your work on Monday, you want to meet for lunch?”
“Sure. Downtown Pizza?” He shoves a pastry in his mouth. “Oh, wait, Monday? Yeah, I can’t.”
“Why not?” Grayson never turns down pizza, especially since he knows I always pick up the tab.
“Just can’t, don’t be such a nosey Nellie.” He turns to Chrissy and asks her to pass the plate of eclairs.
“What does Grayson do?” Charlie whispers in my ear.
“He’s a sports rehabilitation therapist. He works for one of the junior hockey league teams.”
“Oh wow.” She looks shocked, which is a fairly common response when people find out what he doesafterthey’ve met him. “That’s such a serious job. I kind of assumed he…” She trails off, her nose wrinkled cutely. “Actually, I have no idea what I thought he did.”
“Hey, Nugget,” Gray bellows, earning him a look of reprisal from Lulu.
