As I drag myself out of bed and head up the hallway to the kitchen, I hear the banging and crashing of pans.
“Oh, good, you’re finally up.” Mom looks at me across the kitchen.
“Morning to you too.” I proceed to the fridge and grab the container with the leftover cinnamon rolls she made a few days ago.
“Sorry, sweetie, yes, good morning. Well, it’s closer to lunchtime, but that’s a technicality. Anyway, I was about to come in and wake you to give you time to shower before our guests arrive.” She just casually drops this bombshell news on me.
And there goes my perfect Sunday slob-day on the couch. I swear this town has something against me resting.
“Guests, what guests?” I ask as I shove the roll into the microwave to warm it through. It can’t be Autumn, because I know she already has plans.
“I shouldn’t really sayguests, because they are more like family. So don’t panic, it’s only Landon and the boys.” And I freeze on the spot.
“Um, why are they coming over?” I try not to give away the panic I’m feeling.
“Because you need to get to know them. Plus, it’s Sunday, so it’s Landon’s day off, and I’m sure he will appreciate someone else cooking for him for a change.” I look at her skeptically because I seriously doubt that he will appreciate anything about this lunch, including the company.
“And what did Landon say when you spoke to him?” I’m curious to know how he reacted to a lunch invite after our little run-in last night.
“I didn’t speak to him. I just messaged him and told him what time to be here and that I wouldn’t take no for an answer.” She is so matter of fact about how she has just bossed him around, kind of like the way he was last night, which brings a chuckle out of me.
“What’s so funny?” Her eyebrows rise in curiosity.
“Oh, nothing. So, what did he reply?” I ask, taking a bite of the warm roll.
“He just wrote ‘Thank you.’I mean, he’s a man of few words sometimes, but he’s still always so courteous.”
I have to use every bit of strength not to spit out my food in disbelief. Because that man didn’t seem to have any issues with using his words to get across what he needed to say last night, and he wasn’t exactly polite about it.
“Anyway, Landon and the boys will be here in an hour.” I try not to groan at the thought of getting through lunch with him. “Oh, and how was last night, did you have fun?”
Seriously, what else is my mother going to say to make me choke on my food this morning.
“Yeah, fun was the theme of the night apparently.” I take what’s left of my roll and shove it in my mouth. As I head back toward my bedroom to sort out my clothes and to have a shower, I decide that my only way to make it through this lunch will be to focus on those adorable little boys. Surely with Nash and Kade here, Landon will need to be on his best behavior.
That hour went too fast, and as I hear a cute little knock at the front door, Mom yells for me to get it.
Drawing in a deep breath, I roll my shoulders back and walk the few steps needed to open the door.
“Hi,” I say, feigning excitement to see them all. Well, it’s real for two thirds of the guests. “Don’t you both look handsome.” Nash and Kade’s faces light up at my comment about their dress pants, little button-up shirts, and overcoats to keep them warm.
“Dad said when a nice lady asks you to lunch, you should always dress smartly. So, we dressed up for you, Poppy,” Kade pipes up as I usher them all inside. I’m beginning to understand that even though he is younger, he is the more confident of the two boys.
“For Mrs. B,” Landon counters as he steps in past me.
“For PoppyandMrs. B, Dad,” Nash states back at his father, standing with his hands on his hips and glaring at him. And there is the chip off the old block showing up. The look that Nash is giving his father has that same determined scowl that I discovered last night when Landon was trying to make a point.
“Mhmm,” he mumbles as I hear Mom excitedly greeting Kade in the kitchen. “Go say hello to Mrs. B, Nash,” Landon instructs him in a voice that is devoid of any emotion.
Nash does as he is told and runs off to find his brother, leaving me alone with Landon.
I don’t give him a chance to say anything. “Look, I’m just keeping my mother happy, so be pleasant, okay? Not a word out of that mouth of yours, and we can pretend everything is rosy. Got it?” I start to walk away, but he grabs my arm.
“Poppy.” The way he growls my name sends heat through my body again. Why the hell do I keep reacting to him like this?
“What?” I whisper aggressively and spin back to face him, but I wasn’t anticipating how close his body is to mine, so we are now inches apart, and it’s not helping me keep my thoughts clear.
“I'm sorry,” he says, dropping his head and unable to look me in the eye.
