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“I think he’s old as fuck.”
She laughed. “Melody said he’s only four years older than her.”
“He looks forty older.”
“Who cares? He seems like a nice guy, and they look happy together.”
I glanced over to the other side of the gallery. Jeff and my mother stood in front of a painting and he was telling her something while pointing at the art. Her head bent back in laughter, and my heart squeezed. “Yeah, they do look happy.”
“You know…” Gia said, “…people might look at us and think we make an odd couple, too. You’re all tatted and have that dark and dangerous thing going on. I look like a plain Jane standing next to you.”
My eyes raked up and down her. “You’re definitely no plain Jane. Maybe a sexy librarian guys fantasize about bending over in between the stacks, but no plain Jane, sweetheart.”
She leaned to me. “I wouldn’t mind if you bent me over in the stacks. In fact, I think that might be kinda hot.”
My cock twitched. Down boy.
“Oh yeah? How about the bathroom of an art gallery while my mother and her boyfriend are in the next room? Nothing says getting to know your son’s girlfriend like listening to her moan while your son rams his cock into her.”
Gia jabbed my ribs with her elbow. “Crass.”
“You love it. I bet your panties are wet.”
She surprised me by leaning up and kissing my cheek before whispering in my ear, “They are wet actually. But it’s not from hearing you say that you want to ram anything. They’re soaked from hearing you refer to me as your girlfriend without any hesitation. Total turn on.”
I wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her flush against me. “Oh yeah?”
She nodded with an ear-to-ear smile.
“Come on, girlfriend. Let’s get this show on the road and have dinner with my mom and grandpa so I can get you back home and get to second base after our second date.”
She arched a brow. “Second base? What the hell is second base if you think going down on me is first?”“How’s the book coming along, Gia?” my mom asked over dinner.
“It’s moving along a little better now. Each day the words are coming a little faster, and the characters are really taking on more of their personalities.”
“That’s great. I often find it hardest to start a painting, but once I get going, I get into a groove and finish pretty fast.”
“I hope that’s the case for me. I have a looming deadline.”
Mom pointed to me. “My son, on the other hand, can start a painting faster than anyone I’ve ever met. Yet he never finishes any of them.”
Gia’s head whipped to me. “You paint?”
I shrugged. “I used to. But haven’t painted in years. Found I was better at finishing a piece on a person’s skin than I was on canvas though.”
“I don’t know why I never put two and two together. Your mom is an artist and you used to do tattoos. Of course you must be a talented painter. Do you have any of your old artwork?”
“In a closet somewhere.”
“I’d love to see them.”
Mom looked between us. “Umm. Rush’s art is a little different than mine.”
“How so?”
I glanced over at Mom. “I don’t paint landscapes.”
“Well. Now you have me curious.”
“Jeff paints as well,” Mom said.
“Not much anymore,” Jeff added. “I bought the gallery fifteen years ago as my retirement from painting. But every once in a while, I still get inspired and sit down in front of the old canvas. Though these days, I’m a bit rusty.”
“Jeff’s being modest.” Mom gushed. Something I only ever saw her do when she spoke about me. “He’s an amazing painter. One of his paintings was on exhibit at the gallery today.”
“Which one?” I asked.
“It was called Ink Splatter.”
My eyes jumped to Gia’s, and we both lifted our drinks to our mouths in an attempt to hide our smirks.
After dinner and coffee, which was a fuck of a lot less painful to share with the guy my mother is dating than I thought it would be, we headed out to the parking lot. Mom and Gia spent a few minutes talking, and Mom promised she would come out for a long weekend before the end of the summer.
Jeff looked me in the eye and gave a firm handshake. “Your mother is a special woman. Your opinion means the world to her. I’d like to get to know you better. Maybe I could come out for a round of golf one weekend.”
“Sure. I’m not that great at golf though. I basically whack the ball as far as I can to try and reach the longest distance.”
Jeff smiled. “Good. I suck at it, too. Driving range for an hour, longest drive doesn’t have to pay for the beers afterward?”
“Now you’re talking.” Maybe Grandpa wasn’t so bad after all.
