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“Sweetheart, how are you?”
“Just about perfect,” I answer, draping my suit over the back of a chair.
“Ready for tomorrow?”
“Yep.” Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I flip the top and take a swig. She’s worried about any tension there may be with my bitch of an ex, but she needn’t be. I don’t plan on getting close enough to give tension the opportunity to build. Besides, I’ve hardly even thought about the fact that my past will be loitering at my cousin’s wedding, mainly because my present is my plus-one and dominating my thinking space. It’s hard to believe my turnaround from fury to acceptance to calm in such a short period of time, but for once, I don’t give a shit about Annabella. She really can’t hurt me anymore, and I can only attribute that to Lainey. I’ve missed her in my bed. I’ve missed her morning face. I’ve missed spooning her. I’ve missed . . . I’ve just missed her. But tomorrow I’ll have a whole day to spoil her.
“Oh good. And Lainey’s coming?”
“She most certainly is.”
“Wonderful. I can’t wait to get to know her better.”
“Yeah, Mum, don’t frighten her off, will you?” The last thing I need is my mother being all overbearing and ruining my plans.
She scoffs. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean,” I start as I head for my bedroom, “you can be a little—”
“A little what?”
“Excitable.” I put my beard trimmer on charge and lean in to the mirror, assessing the facial hair situation.
“But, Tyler,” she croons, trying to keep her excitement at bay, “you really like her. That’s never happened. Not even with . . . well, it’s never happened. Don’t berate me for being a tad excited.”
“A tad?”
“A lot.”
I laugh lightly and flip the shower on. “Just keep it contained, yeah?”
“Oh, you know me, the soul of discretion.”
I cough and start to strip down. “Okay, Mum.”
“And what about the little issue?”
“You mean Sal?”
“Yes.”
It’s not quite a little issue. “I haven’t figured that out yet.” I fall into thought—thoughts I’ve tried to avoid all week. Sal’s face, his wrath. I shudder and kick my mind into touch. “It’s still early days.”
Mum hums, thoughtful. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you and Lainey tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I go to hang up, but think of something. “Oh, hey, Mum?”
“Yes?”
“Stubble or no stubble?”
She laughs lightly, probably for good reason. My mum really does know me well, and I can hear the affection in her laugh. “You are a handsome brute, my beautiful boy. But, like your father, you’re more handsome with some stubble.” How do mums always know? She understood my actual question and came to the right conclusion. I’m trying to impress.
I smile. “See you tomorrow.” I hang up and set to work perfecting myself for my date with Lainey.The mirror reflects back one prime specimen of a man. His three-piece suit is pristine, screaming high-end, and his hair is a tousled mop of perfect waves. His stubble is even and neat, and his eyes are sparkling with excitement. And maybe some nerves are mixed in there, too. His body is tall, lean, and his posture good, oozing confidence.
He. Is. Fit.
I look at my tan Jeffery West brogues. And his left shoe has a small scuff. “Shit.” I dart to the kitchen and hunt down my shoe care box, scrambling through the endless tins of polish for the right shade of tan. “Bingo.” I bend and give the leather a good buff until my shoes are super shiny. “Now you’re perfect, Ty,” I say, grabbing my things as I pass the table by my front door, as well as the little gift I’ve got for Lainey, before heading out.
“Morning, Mr. Christianson,” Herb chimes as he tips his hat. “Looking dapper today.”
“Thanks, Herb.” I fiddle with the lapels of my suit jacket. “If I have a beautiful blonde on my arm when I get home tonight, the effort will have been worth it.”
He laughs, and I slip my shades on as I break out into the sunshine, breathing in the fresh air. It’s a perfect day for a countryside wedding. A perfect day for a date.
Egor rounds the corner from the garages and rolls to a stop in front of me, leaving my car running as he slides out, rising to his full, towering height. “Morning, Mr. Christianson,” he rumbles, holding the door open for me.
“Morning, chap.” I lower to my seat, ensuring the fine threads of my suit are smoothed out to avoid creasing.
“Have a nice day, sir.” He closes the door as my phone rings, and I look down, highly expecting to find my mother’s name flashing up. She’ll be checking in, seeing if I’m on time. But it’s not Mother. I groan and reject the call from Jenna. “Not today.” I pull off and head for Lainey’s. Not any day, actually. I need to block these numbers. A text comes through and I ignore that too, putting the radio on and reaching up to open the sunroof. But I think better of it when my perfectly styled hair catches my eye in the rearview mirror. So I put the air-con on instead.
