Page 75 of Faking It Right
“The historical record suggests otherwise,” Harley joked before putting his phone away. “Although I must admit, I’m a little hurt you never mentioned your tentacle phase to me.”
“I hate all of you,” I complained, banging my forehead on the table with a groan.
“Don’t be embarrassed, biscuit,” Mom said, patting my arm. “We all have our past lives we’d rather not discuss. Yours seem particularly creative, though.”
“Kill me now,” I whispered to the tablecloth. “Just let me die.”
“Not until after dessert,” Harley replied cheerfully. “I need it to console myself, because after seeing these woodblock prints, I’m not sure even I can measure up to your exotic tastes.”
“Should we be concerned about the ‘backup date’ sitting in her car?” Dad asked, glancing toward the front window.
As if on cue, we heard it peeling away, presumably with Baxter inside.
“Problem solved,” I said, relieved that at least one bizarre element of this evening was departing.
“Well, that was certainly something,” Mom said brightly, trying to salvage things as we cleared the dinner plates. “Who’s ready for dessert? I made your favorite chocolate cake, Ryker.”
“After all that, you think chocolate cake is going to fix things?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at her.
She had the grace to look sheepish. “Would it help if I promised never to set you up on a blind date again?”
“Yes, please.”
“Then I promise.” She crossed her heart. “No more matchmaking. You’ve clearly found someone wonderful all on your own.”
“Thank you.” It felt like I could finally breathe again. “And yes, I would love some chocolate cake.”
As Mom bustled off to the kitchen to retrieve dessert, Harley leaned in close to me. “So, should I be worried about being murdered in our next lifetime?” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear.
I turned to look at him, our faces inches apart. “Nah, I’ll protect you from my unhinged past-life stalker.”
“My hero,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to my lips that felt like emotional aloe vera on the burns Maylin left during her visit.
“Besides,” I added with a smirk, “if anyone’s going to kill you, it’ll be me for encouraging her batshit bonkers stories.”
“Fair enough.” He squeezed my hand under the table. “Though I have to say, this was the most entertaining dinner I’ve ever been to.”
“Wait until Christmas when you finally get to meet my Uncle Pete this year,” I warned. “He thinks aliens abducted him.”
“I’m already looking forward to it,” Harley said, and the genuine enthusiasm in his voice made me realize that despite the absolute disaster this evening had been, there was no one else I’d rather have by my side through it all.
Mom returned from the kitchen carrying a triple-layer chocolate cake that looked like it could single-handedly solve at least half my problems. She placed it at the center of the cleared table with a flourish. Dad followed with dessert plates and clean forks, distributing them to everyone.
Sawyer raised her water glass in a mock toast as my mother began cutting generous slices. “I declare this the best blind date disaster ever. Mom, you’ve outdone yourself with this one.”
“It’s nice to retire from matchmaking on a high note,” she agreed, still giggling as she served the first piece. “Nothing could possibly top this.”
“We should’ve recorded it for posterity,” Gia lamented, accepting her slice with a grateful nod. “Future generations need to know about Ryker’s illustrious past as an alpaca breeding stud.”
“And his anatomically ambitious woodblock art career,” Harley added with a wink that made my cheeks flush all over again as Mom handed him a large piece.
Harley sampled the chocolate cake, closing his eyes with an appreciative hum. “I’m feeling pretty special now. Apparently, I’m your gay soul mate for the seventeenth time in a row. That’s some serious commitment.”
“Don’t you start,” I warned, but I couldn’t keep the smile off my face as I sank my fork into the rich dessert Mom had made.
“We should embrace this,” Harley insisted, licking frosting from his fork. “I’m trying to remember our past lives together. Like that time in the Wild West when you were the infamous outlaw and I was the sheriff supposed to bring you to justice.”
“But you couldn’t resist my rugged charm?” I played along, surprising myself as I savored another bite of cake. “Mom, this is delicious, thank you.” I may have been miffed at her, but I still had good manners.
