Page 102 of Resisting the Temptation
“I’ll admit I’m a little nervous, but I’m ready.”
She gives an overexaggerated gasp. “Benjamin Rossi gets nervous?”
I scowl at her teasing tone, but I don’t respond.
I wasn’t nervous to meet her parents because I knew she wasn’t looking for their approval. She’s not close enough to them for their opinion to matter.
But the same can’t be said about her cousins.
I’m nervous they won’t like me, and it will be the thing to end our situation once and for all.
I don’t want this to end.
I don’t tell Emma any of that, though.
Chapter 49
Emma
Hannah and Morgan’s house is like something out of a suburban dream—complete with the white picket fence.
As we pull into the driveway, Ben whistles as he takes it in. “This is a nice area. What did you say they do for work?”
“Morgan owns a flower shop, and Hannah works at the library. But Morgan used to play for the Denver Mustangs.”
“Wow. Not intimidating at all,” Ben grumbles as we walk up the driveway.
“Morgan is one of the best guys I’ve ever met. No need to be intimidated.”
We ring the doorbell and hear little feet shuffling before Hannah opens the door with a baby on her hip. A blonde girl pokes her head out from behind her.
“Emma! I’m so glad you’re here.” Hannah gives me a one-armed hug while the baby immediately grabs onto my hair and pulls it towards her mouth.
“Me too! This is Ben.” I motion to the man next to me as I wince.
“Poppy, don’t be rude.” Hannah chuckles, helping to untangle my hair from Poppy’s tiny fist. “Nice to meet you, Ben. I’m Hannah.”
“Nice to meet you, too. Thanks for the invite.”
“Of course!” Hannah gives me a sheepish smile. “Sorry about the grabby welcome.”
“It’s all good. Babies love to pull my hair. Hi, Poppy,” I coo to the chubby-cheeked girl. I peek around Hannah and give the older girl a smile. “Hi, kiddo. You must be Aly. I’m Emma, and this is my friend Ben.”
“Hi. I like your tattoos,” she says shyly.
“Thank you.”
Hannah ushers us inside when she hears a crash and a squeal.
Ben and I take off our shoes at the entryway, and he bends to whisper in my ear, “You sure seem to like it whenIpull your hair.”
I gently smack his chest as my cheeks heat.
I really do.
We follow the sound of voices to the kitchen and find Morgan kneeling on the floor wiping up some sort of sauce while Hannah holds both babies.
“Can I take one of them from you?” I ask Hannah.
