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I couldn’t even think before he wrapped me in his arms. Leaned down and kissed me like we were in the confines of his bedroom. Surrounded by his four walls, with a waiting bed. “Oh,” I said when he pulled away.
He winked. “I mean, if they are going to tell a story, they might as well have something worth sharing, right?”
I cleared my throat and looked over his shoulder. “Right.”
“So…” He scrunched his nose as we climbed into the waiting black Escalade. “I hope you don’t mind, my mom insisted I cancel our reservations.”
I shifted against the leather seats. “She did?”
“But if you aren’t comfortable, I’ll rebook them. It’s not a problem.” He was talking but my eyes drifted out the window.
I had to remind myself,his mom was not Mrs. Victors.Spending a few days with her would have been painful. Filled with unwarranted questions and random statements. All to remind me I wasn’t who she wanted marryingher son.No, Mrs. Isaac was nothing like her. She was a sweet, pleasant woman, who apparently wanted me and her son together as much as I did.
“It’ll be fine.” I rested my hand in his lap. Looking down at the imprint in his pants, I said, “Was hoping we’d spend our nightsexploring. But…”
He pulled his phone from his pocket. “Shit, she’ll have to understand. Can’t have me missing out onthat.”
The phone was to his ear, but I eased it down. “We can catch up when we are back in Phoenix.”
He groaned, “Damn. Next time I’ll tell you before making any decisions.” The statement was simple, but weighted.
I stared at him, and the level of awe for how he treated me grew. “Be careful what you say, Angelo.” His name rolled off my tongue and the look in his eyes let me know I should have let him book that room.
He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Keep that shit up and the folks will have to enjoy the way you moan.” He ended that sentence with a kiss on my neck. “We’re here.”
I told him, “Let’s take a minute before we get out.”
His eyebrows narrowed until my hand landed on the oversized bulge. “You right.” He laughed.
Once we both had our composure, we climbed out of the car. The front door to the beautiful home flung open. Mrs. Isaac stood before us with an apron draped over her neck. “You’re here.” She stepped out of the door, her head on a swivel. “Come on. Get in here.”
She hugged me first. “I’m so glad you are joining us.” When she moved her arms from around my neck, she slapped Angelo’s arm.
“What’s that for?” He rubbed the side of it.
“I’m glad you forgave him for his misguided comment.” She gave him a mean side-eye. “Before you leave, you can have my number. If he dares to say anything crazy like that again, call me.”
I loved how she was inches shorter, and half his size, but clearly dominating. I liked Mrs. Isaac. “Yes, ma’am.” Then I assured her, “I’m hoping that’s not something I’ll need to ever call you for.” I attempted the same side-eye she gave him.
Angelo threw his hands up and said, “You can count on that. I don’t ever want to deal with the fallout from the two of you again.” He smirked. “I’d rather get benched for the season.”
“You’d rather what?” The thunderous voice behind me made my shoulders shake.
I put my hand to my chest and said, “Mr. Isaac,” as I turned.
“Gianna.” He opened his arms wide and engulfed me. He and Angelo saw eye to eye, and the older Angelo was almost as wide. His arms fell from around me before he asked, “Now what were you in here talking about getting benched?” His stance widened as he challenged Angelo.
“That if I had to choose between that and making either of these two mad, I’d take that any day.”
His dad looked between me and his wife and chuckled. “That would be a wise choice, son.” He tapped his hand then brought him into a one-sided hug. “Thought I taught you better than that.” The two of them had a long stare down before Angelo’s shoulders drooped.
Angelo tapped his head. “And I remember you telling me how hard this was.” He smirked.
Further into the house, Corrine yelled, “Mama, we’ll be eating tomorrow at this rate.”
We followed his mom into the kitchen. She stood with her hands on her hips. “Little girl, you could have come out to greet your brother and Gianna.”
Corinne’s eyes flicked to mine as she rubbed flour between her hands. “It’s all love, but I hate eating late. I need time for two plates,” she joked.
