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My dad stands and walks our way, but my mom pops her head out from behind the small wall separating the entryway and kitchen, and heads toward us quickly, cutting him off.
“Sweetheart!” she says, her eyes immediately landing on Winter.
I feel Winter’s body tense slightly, so I rub my thumb across the soft skin peeking out from under her cream-colored silk blouse and slide my pointer and index fingers just under the waistband of her black pencil skirt. A smile curls my lips when I feel goosebumps arise across her skin.
“Oh my lord, Richard, look at this beautiful woman!” My mother holds a wooden spoon covered in red marinara sauce away from her body as she scoops Winter into an embrace with her free arm. Winter giggles and hugs her back.
“Thank you, Mrs. Fox.”
“Please, dear, call me Midge. Everyone else does.”
“Sir,” I shake my dad’s hand and hug him, then lean into my mother—who’s still staring at Winter—and kiss her on the cheek. “Hey, mom.”
I step back, once again laying my hand on Winter’s back. “This is Winter Sommers. She’s Sondra Bose’s maid of honor, and my current roommate.”
That didn’t sound right.
“Well,friend, she’s my friend.”
Nope, that didn’t sound right either.
I smile uncomfortably, hoping I haven’t downplayed us. We’re obviously more than friends, but I don’t think my parents want a play-by-play of our sexual trysts and inappropriate business deals. And if I call her my girlfriend, they’ll expect to see her after the wedding. Which they won’t.
This is fine.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Winter,” my dad says. “I’m so happy you two could make it. How was the drive?”
“It was so beautiful,” Winter says. “I’ve never been this far up the coast. I’m mesmerized by the view from this high up.”
“Well, let’s have some drinks on the sundeck before dinner. You can see miles of ocean from out there, and the sun will set shortly.”
“Yes, sir,” she responds, glancing at me with a bright smile.
* * *
Sittingaround our large dining table on the corner of the deck, my dad, myself, and Winter watch the sun as it slowly tucks itself into the ocean directly in front of us. My dad sits at the head of the table. I’m to his right, and Winter sits at mine. My mother slips in and out of our conversation as she toggles from the kitchen to the deck.
“Is there anything I can help you with, Midge?” Winter offers, setting her white wine on the table in front of her.
“No, sweetheart. You sit with your guy and enjoy the view. There’s nothing like seeing it for the first time. I will accept helpafterdinner, though. So we can chat without the men around.” My mom winks, then turns, heading back into the house.
While my mom believes a woman’s place is where she chooses to stand, she prefers to remain age-old in the way she takes care of us men. She does most of the cooking and cleaning, aside from our house staff at home, and she never misses the opportunity to provide a warm environment.
Most dinners end with me, Hayden, and my dad retiring to dad’s study to sip whiskey and chat about business until my mom has finished preparing dessert and coffee. Then we make our way to the sitting area by the fire and talk about personal topics. Which mostly consists of Hayden and me arguing, my mom asking me when I’ll be settling down, and my dad getting on us boys to“straighten our acts”before we take over the firm.
Growing up, as much as I tried to help my mom with the housework and such, she only assigned me enough work to teach me responsibility and shouldered the rest herself. She enjoys it. It gives her purpose to see us happy and smiling. And while my dad and brother accepted their roles of being doted upon because that was just the way it was in our house, I accepted it because it makesherhappy.
I curl my arm around the back of Winter’s chair, resting my hand against her back. The silk of her shirt grazes my fingertips as she shifts, and an electric current sizzles through me when my thumb connects with her bare skin. She repositions slightly to allow me more access, bringing a smile to my face.
I bet she’s like an electric blanket between her legs right now. My cock stirs awake at the notion, but I give into my thoughts for all of two seconds before I think better of it, considering denying myself of her has been one of my largest weaknesses.
“Winter, what does your father do?” my dad asks.
“He works in finance, sir. Specifically, for Hiller and Ash—”
“Hiller and Ashby,” he finishes her sentence with surprise. “I know Barron Hiller well. Your father’s a financial advisor then?”
“Yes, sir.”
