Page 114 of Strictly the Worst

Her eyes catch mine and I frown. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

There’s a softness to her mouth as she gives me the smallest of smiles. “I didn’t mean to sound like that. It’s just…” she trails off. “I suppose I was surprised when Linda told me.”

“Linda told you?” My older brothers’ mom and my own are close. But I’m still surprised Linda knew about this.

“Apparently Ava let it slip,” Mom says. “Not that anything can stay secret for long.”

“Some things can,” I point out and she winces. And yeah, we start avoiding that subject again.

“So tell me about this woman. What’s her name?” Mom asks.

“Tessa Carmichael.” I can’t help but smile as I say her name.

“And you work with her?” There’s still no expression on her face. I can’t read her at all.

“Sort of. We both work for Roman. I didn’t really get to know her until a a little over a month ago.”

A look of relief catches Mom’s face. “Oh, I thought it was more serious than that.”

“It is,” I say firmly. “I’m very serious about her.”

She blows out a mouthful of air again. “How many children does she have?”

“One. Zoe. She’s thirteen.”

“She has a teenager?” Mom’s voice rises. “How old is this woman?”

The way she’s questioning makes me grit my teeth. Of all people, I didn’t expect this kind of response from my mom. “She’s a couple of years older than me. And I’m surprised at you.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, sounding genuinely confused.

“I mean you’ve been a single mom for a long time. I thought you’d be on her side.”

“There are no sides, darling,” she says smoothly. “And if there were, I’d always be on yours. I’m just concerned, that’s all. You’ve gone from zero to a hundred with this woman. Do you really know her? Have you considered how difficult it will be if you become serious? I just feel like you’re rushing this, that’s all. She’s a mom. You’ll never be number one in her life.”

“I wouldn’t want to be,” I tell her. “Kids should always come first.”

She winces again. “I know I let you down. I just…” she sighs. “I don’t want to see you repeating any patterns.”

“What kind of patterns?” I’m getting annoyed with her.

“The kind where you try to save the single mom all over again.”

“Jesus, Mom. I’ve no idea where you’re getting all this pop psychology from, but I’m not trying to save anybody. Now can we change the subject, please?” I ask.

Her gaze catches mine. “I’m sorry. I just care…”

“I know you do.” I give her a tight nod. “But now I need you to back off.”

“Okay.” She nods.

And now I feel like a douche for hurting her feelings. “When you meet her you’ll understand,” I tell her.

And then I lead us to the side of the dance floor, smoothly handing Mom over to Liam, who just happens to be standing there, watching his wife dance with our dad.

Turning my back on them all, I go stand at the bar. Even though I might not be feeling this wedding, I love my brother to the moon and back, and it’s his day so he deserves to be celebrated.

By the time I can sneak away and call Tessa it’s almost eight and the sun is starting to fade over the lake. More people are on the dance floor now. The band has finished playing and a DJ has taken over, much to the younger contingent’s delight.

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