Page 27 of Lock 'em Down

“Really?” Mom’s smile turns natural. “Good. I met her when I was pregnant with Rhett. She has six kids?—”

“They must have the best Christmas mornings!”

Mom snorts. “I don’t think I could have done it, but Stella is better at the juggling act than me. Much more laid-back and always had a better handle on things.”

I give Mom’s arm a squeeze. What happened with Levi is hardly her fault and yet, I know it eats at her. I think that’s partly why I’ve gone along with her expectations and “suggestions” about how I live my life for as long as I have. I hate that she blames herself for my poor decisions.

“Why is she in Knoxville? Did she move here?” I ask.

“Oh, no. She’s visiting her son.”

I pause. “Mom.” Don’t tell me this is a setup. Worse—an ambush!

Mom widens her eyes and grins brightly. “It’s just lunch, Cami.”

“Ugh, come on,” I groan. “You didn’t even give me a heads-up.”

“I want you to know someone in this new city. A contact, someone you can reach out to, in case of an emergency.”

“I’m sure I’ll make friends at work.”

“I’m sure you will too. But would this really hurt? Stella’s son is relatively new to town, too. He’s a nice guy. A few years older than you. He travels for work so it’s not like he’s going to be a constant fixture in your life—just a friendly face to grab a Friday dinner with or call if you have car trouble.”

“Fine,” I agree, rolling my eyes.

I hate when Mom meddles like this. She hasn’t intervened since her plan to set me up with her dentist’s son failed. Sigh. At least with this dude, Mom will be back in Minnesota and if I never speak to him again, she won’t be any wiser.

“We’re here,” Mom says, gesturing toward a cute restaurant. She reaches for the door handle and pulls it open.

We enter and I freeze.

Because sitting at a table with a broadly grinning and frantically arm-waving woman is Leif.

My husband.

And he looks devastatingly sexy and downright furious.

Eight

Leif

I freeze when I see her.

She looks beautiful. Surprised.

Fucking guilty.

“Leif.” Mom gives my shoulder a nudge.

I stand from the table as Cami and her mother approach.

“I’ve known Cheryl for years,” Mom reminds me, as if I’m eight and need more of an incentive to not embarrass her. Or myself.

But—out of all the women my mom has befriended in her life, she was planning to introduce me to…my wife?

I need a shot of tequila.

“Stella!” Cheryl beams, opening her arms to pull Mom into a hug.

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