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We both look at Alex. “You’re really together?” he asks quietly.
“Yep.”
He leaps forward and jumps into our arms, wrapping one arm around me and the other around Luke. When he loosens his grip, Luke sets him down. He smiles genuinely and says, “Can we make pizza now?”
Luke gives me a gorgeous smile that makes my insides flip around, then he ruffles Alex’s hair and says, “Heck, yeah. Let’s do it.”
I watch as he instructs the boys on what to do, occasionally correcting Alex and calmly diffusing A.J.’s impatience.
No one is perfect, I know that. But somehow it seems I’ve discovered the man who is not only the perfect match for me, but for my kids, too.
Here’s to a mom-win for once.
Chapter 8
Zoey
“Areyounervous?”Iask Luke, watching his fingers fidget on his steering wheel.
He glances at me, then looks back at the road, clearing his throat. “No.”
I bite back a smile and slide my hand down his arm. He looks at me again and his arm relaxes, dropping off the steering wheel. I intertwine my fingers with his before turning my head to look at the backseat. Alex is engrossed in aDogmanbook, and A.J. is playing a game with headphones on.
“It’s okay if you are,” I say quietly.
He heaves out a sigh. “I know your parents, Zo. I’ve known them for a long time. I’m not nervous about themmeetingme. I’m nervous about themacceptingme. I know a tattoo artist with long hair, black painted fingernails, and fully decorated skin is not what your parents saw for you. Not at all.”
“I don’t give a shit,” I say simply. “I don’t want the life my parents had. My mother loved Tad. I mean, she doesn’t now, but it proves that looks can be deceiving. The only look I care about is the one in your eyes when you look into mine. That love? That’s what matters to me. If they can’t accept that, then we won’t be staying.”
He looks at me with a little smirk on his lips as he pulls into the driveway. Once the car is in park, he glances at the backseat. Seeing the boys are still engrossed in what they’re doing, he kisses me, then says, “You know, you’re pretty fucking sexy when you’re fired up like that.”
I quirk an eyebrow at him and smile devilishly. “You like that, huh?”
He nods as he whispers in my ear exactly how much he likes it—and how he’s going to show me thatlater tonight.
As the back door to the house opens, we reluctantly pull apart, and I direct the boys to put their stuff away.
I take a deep breath before swinging the door open and forcing a smile. It’s not that I don’t love my parents, I do. I just don’t particularly like them most days. They both worked crazy hours when I was a kid, focused on having a successful life. And their version of success hinges on money and respectability. They both made their money, committed to a marriage that worked fine enough but was not at all based on love, and they had me. We looked like the perfect happy family. It was fine. But it wasn’t what I craved. What I wanted was love. I wanted to be free to be the emotional, smart-mouthed, creative person I am. What I was told to do was to tamp down those emotions, always make sure I spoke like a lady, and to focus on math because it would get me further than English ever would.
It’s why I got a degree in accounting. It’s how I met Tad. But I hated accounting. Writing was always my passion. When I started pursuing self-publishing, my father spoke endlessly about the vanity of it all. Then, once I had a book deal, suddenly it was all worth it.Iwas worth it.
Don’t get me wrong, my parents are great grandparents. They love the boys, and they don’t put all that crap on them like they did on me. I had the O’Brien house as a safe place growing up. I’m not angry at my parents, but I don’t value their opinion because they haven’t shown me the respect to earn me valuing their opinions.
And if they’re anything less than pleasant to Luke today, I’ll march everyone out of the house and not come back until they learn to put on their nice faces and at least pretend.
My mother rushes out of the house, immediately going to A.J.’s door and freeing him from his car seat while smothering him with kisses. My dad follows a few steps behind, walking around the car toward Luke before I can intervene. Luke helps Alex out of his booster seat, and as Alex jumps to the ground, my father extends his hand to Luke.
“Luke, it’s good to see you.”
Luke firmly returns the hand shake. “Mr. Holloway. It’s been a while. It’s good to see you as well.”
My father smiles in a way that’s almost genuine and waves a hand before patting Luke’s shoulder. “Please, call me Ed.”
Luke nods. “Of course.”
They walk around to the passenger side of the car and I breathe out a little sigh. At least my father knows how to play nice. For the most part. He’s far more critical of me than the people in my life. My mother, on the other hand? She’s an equal opportunity criticizer.
“Oh, Luke,” my mother says, overly cheerfully, her voice an octave too high. “How wonderful to have you here with us.”
