Page 69 of Weston’s Treasure

“No. And like you said, I’ll be in the hotel waiting for you. It’s not like I’m going to apprehend the skip with you. Though that might be fun.”

Weston did his best to keep his groan silent—maybe this hadn’t been a good idea. Silver was fearless, and he could see how she’d think it was fun. Hell, the woman had thought tracking drug runners by herself was a good idea, too.

“Silver,” he growled. “You’re not coming with me to pick up the skip.”

“Jeez, keep your pants on. I just said it sounded like fun.”

“Then what aren’t you sure about?”

“Meeting your parents.”

Taking one hand off the steering wheel, Weston reached over and laid the back of his palm on her thigh and waited for Silver to take it. When she did, he threaded their fingers and brought their combined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of Silver’s.

“Never brought a woman home to meet my parents,” he told her.

“Never? Really?”

“Not a woman. They met a few girls in high school but not one after I graduated.”

“Why not?”

“Never had one that mattered.” They went back to silence for a beat, then Weston went on. “My parents are good people. Hard-working. Average. Normal. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I’ve never met anyone’s parents before. And as you know, I’m not accustomed to normal, average, good people. I was raised by Dale and Silvia.”

Weston hated that shit for her, hated it was a constant in her life.

“Trust me. You got nothing to worry about.”

“Okay,” she mumbled, not sounding convinced.

“Do you think I’d bring you to meet them if I thought there’d be a problem?”

“No.”

“Right. So stop worrying.”

Weston felt Silver glaring, and when he glanced in her direction, he found he was correct. Her puffy, full lips pursed together, her eyes narrowed. It was a cute look but Weston knew her, therefore he knew she was gearing up for a snit.

“You know,” she said conversationally. “Just because you tell me not to worry doesn’t actually mean I’ll stop worrying.”

“It should.”

“It should?”

“Yep. I told you, you have nothing to worry about so just stop.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” she snapped.

Weston scanned the traffic in front of him trying his best not to laugh. The woman could argue about anything. And when she tried to snatch her hand from his, he held fast.

“Why not? You don’t know my parents. I do. I’m telling you they’re cool. They’ll treat you with kindness and respect. So again, babe, you’re working yourself up for no reason. Relax, enjoy the road trip. And hopefully, by tomorrow night we’ll be sitting at my mom’s table and she’ll pull out all the stops. Then you’ll see you were worrying for nothing.”

“You can say that because you do know them. I don’t, so between now and then I’m gonna worry.”

“Suit yourself,” he conceded.

“What?”