Page 81 of Mine to Ruin

“Mom?”

Her arms open, and we hug tightly. I missed her so much. My dad comes in and joins in the hug.

Dad leaves the kitchen with two whiskey glasses, and Mom turns to me, starry eyed, and says, “Oh my god, he’s beautiful. Imagine your children.”

“Mom!”

“He’s even more handsome than his grandfather was,” she says wearing a pensive look.

“How would you know?”

She gulps a glass of wine and asks, “Want one, too?”

“You don’t fool me. Stop deflecting.”

“Come now, introduce me to the handsome man you brought home, finally—the emphasis being on finally.”

I roll my eyes at her and follow her into the living room.

In under half an hour, Kian has my mom enraptured with him. He went from praising her job as a teacher, to complimenting the food and her beauty. My father scowls at me, while I hide my smile behind a napkin. Kian says how good the whiskey is and my father tells him it’s a local product. That spikes Kian’s interest.

When we finish eating, I follow Mom in the kitchen with the empty plates.

She says, “I like him.”

“Why the long face, then?”

“I have my reasons, but one thing is for sure, charm runs in the family.”

Annoyance simmers low in my belly. “And you’re not going to tell me what those are, are you?”

She ignores me and continues, “And the way he looks at you, like you’re all he sees. And he’s not married.” She fans herself, and I huff.

“Mom, I have a right to know what you are talking about.”

“That’s your aunt’s story to tell. Not mine.”

My father enters, unaware of the air thick with secrets.

“Dad, say something,” I plead.

“Hmm, do I like the guy that got my daughter’s attention? Let me think about that.”

“It’s hard not to like him,” my mom retorts, and I leave the kitchen and take a seat next to Kian, and he takes my hand in his.

“How are you?” I ask, my eyes searching his handsome face.

“Better now,” he says, and my lips curve into a smile. “I am happy we made that stop earlier.”

“Kian!” I look at my parents in the open kitchen, horrified that they might have heard that.

“Relax, angel.”

My parents come back inside, and my father shoots off question after question. My mother’s only reaction is to eye us both, then she nods in my direction, and gives me a thumbs up. Why do parents have to be so embarrassing?

When my parents say goodnight, Kian follows me up the stairs.

I sway my hips, and he groans when I bend to pick up an invisible item.

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