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He nods. “I was really happy to have you all around…with me…today.”
Dani looks pleasantly surprised. “Really?”
“You all handled all of that so well.”
“Sorry it was a little awkward at times, Boss,” Crew says, sincerely.
“I expect that. Ninety-nine percent of my interactions with other humans are awkward and awful,” Nathan says.
Dani squeezes his arm and cuddles closer to him. “Not true.”
“It wasn’t today,” he agrees. “I got to let you all handle the people, and I got to eat stuffed French toast and quiche, and drink some of the best coffee I’ve had outside of my apartment. That’s all I had to do. I got to just sit and be quiet and know I had people there to handle things even better than I could.” He shakes his head. “I never get to do that. I never get to feel that way.”
Crew looks like Nathan just announced that he was giving Crew his Lamborghini—shocked, and delighted.
“Well, fuck Nate, wait ‘til you taste my mom’s pot roast. You’ll want to go over there every Sunday. There aren’t nearly the number of people, and Lori can keep up a conversation without anyone else contributing more than a ‘yep’ every once in a while.”
But instead of saying something sarcastic, Nathan nods. “Sounds great. I love pot roast."
Crew turns wide eyes on me. “How many mimosas did he have?”
I laugh and look back at Dani and Nathan. She’s gazing up at him like she just fell even more in love with him. And like she’s thinking the same thing I am—Nathan Armstrong needs a little mothering, and I think Lori McNeill would be a good one to do it. Even if she’s only about seven years older than him.
Nathan looks down at her, then over at me, and then finally, his gaze lands on Crew.
“Your family is wonderful,” he says.
Crew grins. “Thanks.” He keeps his eyes on Nathan when he says, “I have pretty great taste in people.”
Then Crew puts the RV into drive, and we pull away from the McNeill house.
CHAPTER6
Dani
With every milethe RV heads south, I feel the joy and warmth of the McNeill’s welcome fading as anxiety creeps in.
The hugs, smiles, and casual acceptance Lori and William extended to me, and to Michael and Nathan, are not going to be present with my parents. The conversation I had on the phone with them where I explained I was bringing not one, but three, boyfriends home for Christmas went over exactly as I’d expected. They were absolutely stunned.
My parents aren’t heavy communicators anyway, and they certainly don’t yell, but their silence is painful. On that call there was a whole lot of dead air. Like the kind where you actually think your connection has dropped because there’s just… nothing.
Crew is driving the RV and Nathan is sitting in the passenger seat next to him because he doesn’t trust Crew driving. They’re talking hockey, with lots of phrases being thrown around that I don’t understand as a newbie hockey fan. It’s me and Michael in the back, watching It’s a Wonderful Life on his laptop, his arm around me.
“Hey,” he says softly as the movie ends. “What’s going on?”
“Hmm?” I look up at him. His dark brown eyes are filled with concern. I lean into his chest and breathe in Michael’s scent. He always smells like leather and books and sandalwood. It never fails to both calm me down and turn me on.
He strokes the back of his palm down my cheek. “You’re getting more and more tense by the minute, and you’ve sighed about fifteen times. Are you nervous about seeing your parents?”
Of course, Michael is tuned into my emotions. He always seems to know how I’m feeling. I pull back a little so I can see him better, biting my lip. “Yes. I’m starting to think this was a mistake. Not even Nathan’s enormous poinsettia is going to make up for the fact that instead of bringing one guy home, I’m bringing three. I don’t think my parents even knew that could be a possibility. I have officially blown their minds and not in a good way.”
“Are you afraid they’re judging you or that they won’t want a relationship with you anymore?”
“Both.” I almost choke on the word. “Not that they said anything like that, but they just didn’t say anything at all.”
“Yet they agreed we could visit.”
I nod, but he doesn’t understand. My parents would agree to a potluck with Satan rather than risk being seen as rude.
