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"Shut up!" I squealed, horrified, looking past him to the spot where Shooter was standing. But he was gone.
"Hey," he said, his voice getting a little firm as his hands cupped my face. "Whatever the fuck is going on in that pretty head of yours, shut it down. You ain't some bullshit flavor of the week. I'm gonna prove that by dragging your sweet ass out there to meet my mother so she can personally invite you to dinner at her place on Sunday night."
With that, he dropped my face, grabbed my hand, and turned away. With his strong hand claiming mine and outweighing me by a good hundred some-odd pounds, well, there was no choice but to follow him.
Paine's mother looked, well, absolutely nothing like him. First, she was small. As in both short and thin. Paine was right when he said she certainly didn't have the hips to birth a baby as big as he was. Hell, I found it hard to believe her small body could carry a baby as big as Paine. She was just past middle age with pale skin and dark hair that she had cut in a way that didn't scream "mom!" but was actually pretty stylish. Her eyes were similar to Paine's, but not quite. Hers were such a light green that they were almost see-through. Paine's had a bit more depth and I wondered if maybe the father had green eyes as well somehow. She had on dark wash jeans that she had tucked inside her tan heeled boots that matched her sweater I could see underneath her winter jacket.
She had been smiling huge at Shooter because of something he said and I got the overall impression that he was a real charmer. But her eyes moved over toward us when she saw motion and the smile faltered, fell, then reappeared but with drawn-in brows like she was confused.
"Ma, this is Elsie. Elsie, this is Gina. Now you gotta explain to her that fucking flavor of the week comment."
Oh, good Lord.
Seriously, where was a good sinkhole when you needed one?
"Oh, Elsie honey. I didn't mean anything by that," she rushed to correct her transgression. "He's never brought a woman to my table before because he's well..."
"A bit of a ladies man?" I supplied, my voice a strange strangled imitation of itself.
"I was going to say slut," she said bluntly with a smile, "but lets go with your term. I've been waiting close to twenty years for him to introduce me to a girl."
"Well now you're introduced," Paine supplied, dropping my hand but only because he slid an arm around my hips, pulling me to his side slightly.
"Do you have any plans Sunday night?"
Normally, I would. I'd had the standing Sunday night dinner with my father since I first moved out to go to college. But since I kinda... killed that tradition a couple days before, I was free. "No plans," I said with a smile. If I thought the audition with his buddies was bad, an audition with his buddies and his mother was all kinds of torture.
"Wonderful. Paine will pick you up and bring you to dinner. I don't need you to bring anything at all. Me and the girls have it all covered. Shoot and Breaker will be bringing their girls too so you won't feel like I'm interviewing you all night," she said with a knowing smile.
"Sounds great. Thanks for inviting me."
She gave me a smile then turned to her son, the smile falling. "Don't fuck it up before then," she told him firmly before turning to Shooter and Breaker. "See you guys Sunday. Elsie," she said, reaching for my hand and squeezing it the way only mothers do, "it was so nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too," I said, then watched as she turned and left.
"We good?" Paine asked when his mother got into her car and pulled away.
"Um, yeah, we're good. I really do need to get to work now though," I said, glancing at the clock.
"I'll walk you out," he offered. Well, 'offered' wasn't the right word because it wasn't an offer. It was him narrating events as he pulled me toward the door.
"See you guys Sunday," I managed to call before the door slammed behind me.
Paine pulled me toward my car, pushed me back against the driver's door, and slammed his lips down on mine. It was by no means a 'good morning' kiss. It was hot and hungry and promising all kinds of fun carnal things that he couldn't give me because I was almost late for work and, you know, we were in public.
"I'm not even close to fucking done with you," he said in a deep, smooth voice before turning away and going back toward his shop.
With a strange fluttering feeling in my belly and wobbly legs, I got into my car and went to work.
