Page 66 of Phishing for Love
She pats my arm. Dear, deluded Tess, her pat says. “Oh, honey, this internet thing is everywhere. Google can still hear us.”
“You know what, I agree with Deanna,” Nathan pipes up, and I see him fighting to contain his laughter. “Google needs to learn its lesson.”
“Thank you, young man.”
Comrades-in-arms, they disappear into the house. With a resigned sigh, I trail after them.
Mom’s in the kitchen, bustling around, her cheeks flushed with excitement. With a house soon to be full of people, she’s clearly in her element.
I hug her and remove a sprig of thyme that somehow got caught in her hair.
“How are you doing?” she asks.
Nervous. Edgy. “Fine.”
She rubs my arm, as if she understands exactly what I’m not saying. “Stop overthinking this,” she whispers. “Just enjoy yourself.”
Easier said than done, but I nod to indicate that yes, I’ll try. I gesture to the potato bake that Nathan placed on the kitchen table. “It needs about half an hour in the oven.”
“Okay. Hey, Google, set a timer—” she stops abruptly. “Mom, where’s Google?”
Grandma scowls. “Out of sight. Where it belongs.”
My mother looks so lost without her kitchen accessory that I say, “I can set the timer on my phone.”
The doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it,” Grandma volunteers and hurries away before anyone can stop her.
I hear Aaron’s deep baritone filtering down the hall as he chats to my grandmother. Taking a stabilizing breath, I pull my shoulders back, preparing myself.
Aaron follows Grandma into the kitchen. My heart stutters and has some trouble restarting. He’s dressed in faded black jeans that sculpt his legs just right. A soft black T-shirt with a small white logo stretches across his broad shoulders. Still encasing himself in monochrome, I observe. I’m starting to suspect it’s his armor.
His eyes find mine immediately. “Hi, Tess.”
I give a breezy, oh-so-casual wave. “Hey, Aaron.”
His gaze flicks to my brightly colored top and the red barrette in my hair. The tiniest hint of a smile grazes his lips.
Turning to my mom, he kisses her cheek in greeting and hands Google over to her. “It looked in need of rescuing.”
Mom melts. “Thank you.”
Aaron and Nathan exchange a stilted greeting before heading out to the garden to join my dad, who’s manning the barbecueand the cooler of beer. I’m hoping that after a beer or two, the guys will be more relaxed around one another.
“That man is so handsome,” Mom says as she reconnects Google. “And he has such good teeth.”
“Aaron’s not a racehorse, Mom,” I protest.
“I’d bet on him,” Grandma says, and they both start giggling.
I roll my eyes. Honestly, they’re like children sometimes.
The front door bangs open, and I hear Lisset’s excited voice. Kate’s here. The three of us fix our gazes on the kitchen entrance, the air humming with anticipation. We’re dying to meet Kate’s friend.
Lisset skips in first, followed by a gorgeous, bearded giant of a man with legs like tree trunks and shoulder-length blond hair. His massive shoulders barely fit through the doorway.
Kate walks into the kitchen. In an offhand voice, she says, “This is Eric.”
