Page 165 of New Growth
We still had to take things slowly, I was still getting used to being intimate again. But El was so patient. We took breaks if I needed to, he’d stop if I asked, without question. Once, I even built up the courage to take the lead, though it didn’t end pretty.
I loved every second of us figuring it out. It was as if we were learning new sides of each other.
But this weekend was on another level.
Apparently, his family threw a barbecue every year, and somehow, in all our time together, El had never once mentioned it. When I asked why, he just shrugged and said he didn’t think I’d be interested.
But I was.
I wanted to visit Louisiana and meet the people who made him who he was. And maybe more than anything, I wanted to feel the joy of a backyard BBQ again.
I hadn’t been to one since my dad died.
We’d gotten in late last night, so I hadn’t met anyone yet. Now, as we rounded the side of the house toward where El’s family was already gathered for breakfast near the water, my nerves were starting to eat me alive.
El glanced over. “You okay?”
I forced a swallow. “Y-yeah. It just hit me that I’m about to meet your family for the first time.”
His lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh. “Only just?”
“Hush.”
“Relax,” he said, threading his fingers through mine. His voice lowered. “I’d never bring you anywhere you wouldn’t be respected or loved. They’ll love you… because I love you.”
I glanced away at that, lips pressing into a pout. I still hadn’t said it back. Not yet. Not out loud. I didn’t know why. I just—didn’t.
He sighed, gently tucking a curl behind my ear like he wasn’t annoyed—even though I would’ve been. “Let’s get through today, then we’ll go back to the hotel and I’ll run you a bath. Deal?”
“Yes, please.”
“Good.”
I finally looked up, taking in the house in front of me—a stunning modern countryside home, nestled near a slow-moving creek. The wide, wraparound porch was lined with white rocking chairs, and hanging flower baskets swayed in the breeze. Big, sunlit windows framed the front, and I could hear the faint creak of the old wooden swing hanging from the massive oak tree in the yard.
It was beautiful.
As soon as we stepped onto the patio, we were greeted by a little boy, maybe ten or eleven, sprinting toward us.
“Uncle Lottie!”
El caught him with ease, scooping him up in his arms. “Hey, Bones.”
The kid—Bones, apparently—stared at me like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
“I got you some comics,” El said, adjusting him on his hip. “You still like Batman?”
Nothing. Just more staring.
I gave a small wave. The kid’s eyes widened before his face turned bright red, and he immediately buried his head in El’s chest.
El frowned. “What’s wrong?”
A deep laugh came from the table. “Bones! You got a little crush, sha?”
The little boy shook his head fiercely but still refused to lift his face.
El chuckled, setting him down. “Sorry, buddy. This one’s mine. You gotta get your own.”
