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Just like he did.
I shake my head, staring at the ranch-style home I need to go inside to have a family Sunday dinner. But, I can’t make myself move.
I can’t make myself open this truck door and step inside.
Because I know what’s going to happen. I’m gonna take one look at Paisley and not be able to keep my hands off her.
I’ve missed her since the day I dropped her off at Spencer’s house. I’ve missed her in my bed. I’ve missed kissing her.
I don’t understand how I could ever walk away from the dream I have when I’m with her. The one that promises forever, and family.
I shake my head again, opening my door and sliding out of the truck.
My mother greets me at the door when I step inside. “Hey there, how’s Paisley’s house coming along?”
I smile. “It’s coming along well. Did you see the video?” I haven’t yet.
My mother pulls me aside before we enter the living room. “You like her, don’t you?”
“Huh?” I scratch my head, stalling for time. Because I know exactly who she’s talking about. “Like who?”
“Whom.”
“What?”
She smiles that motherly smile she gives me when she knows better than I do. “Paisley. I just hope Brian can handle it.” She gives a little laugh and walks away.
Mr. Watts would most likely kill me, if Spencer doesn’t first.
I shake my head and decide to face the inevitable. “Ah, smells good,” I say, stepping into the front room where all the parents have gathered.
Just the man I don’t want to see steps forward with his hand outstretched. “Hey, Vaughn, how’s the house?”
“Mr. Watts, it’s coming along. Did you see the video?”
He smiles, the crow’s feet around his eyes deepening. “Nah, I’ll see the finished product when you boys are all done.”
Guilt. It’s guilt I’m feeling right now. I haven’t even seen Paisley yet, and already I have some major fucking guilt going on. My palms are sweaty.
“Vaughn, in here,” Spencer calls from the kitchen.
Everyone moves in one unit to the kitchen, and I’m met by Paisley’s piercing blue eyes first. “What’s up?” I ask.
Mrs. Watts wraps me into a hug first. “I love the countertop and cabinets in the new house.”
I rub at the back of my neck. “Yeah, it’ll look great once we’re done.”
Guilt’s still here.
Mrs. Watts and my own mother give me a smile and hand me some plates. “Help Paisley set the table, will you?” My mother pats my cheek.
“Sure,” I grumble.
“It’s been kind of crazy here today. Everyone can’t wait to see the house, and I feel guilty about not telling my parents,” Paisley says as we move into the dining room.
“I don’t think we should tell anyone,” I rush out. That’s the worst idea ever. And here’s why I believe this. I’m not a man who can’t back up my fears with concrete evidence why I don’t support the idea of telling our parents.
Because.
Because I swear I want to give Paisley everything. I really do, but I know I can’t. And having that added pressure of parents being involved in a relationship that isn’t even fully formed yet breeds disaster in my book. Not that I have a book on relationships because what I have with Paisley is the closest thing I’ve ever had to one.
And it’s fragile.
I’d like to figure out what the fuck we’re doing before we add more people into it. I’m about to voice my fears when she stares up at me.
“I’ve just never kept something like this from them before. What if something big happens, and the police come here.”
“Wait, what?” I kind of laugh at myself, thinking Paisley meant telling her parents about us and not the stalker. Of course, she’d have guilt over that. “I support you with whichever decision you make.”
She smiles, and I swear it’s a smile meant only for me. “Thank you. That makes me feel better. We’ll see how I feel during dinner.”
“You’re not guilty about not telling your family about…us,” I draw out the word.
She shrugs. “Why would I be? We’re taking things slow. They don’t need to know.” She laughs and then moves around me to get silverware from the china cabinet.
Right.
“Yeah.” I place the plates down, wondering where she’s going to sit. “You’re right.”
She heads off back into the kitchen, and more than anything I want to hug her, hold her close to me. I’d love to give her a little kiss, and tell everyone we’re together.
I know.
I know.
I’m the one who wanted to take things slow. I remember.
“Vaughn, there you are,” her father says to me, walking into the dining room. “I figured after dinner we could discuss the business. Spencer’s told me about what’s been happening.”
I scrub a hand through my hair. “Yeah, we need a game plan.” I make the decision right here, right now not to let my thoughts be consumed by Paisley today. No, I need to think about our company. Our bread and butter. The main reason I’m able to pay my way through life is because of the company Spencer and I poured our blood, sweat, and tears into.
