Page 51 of Rushing Into Love

Ryder chuckled, faint laugh lines creasing his eyes. “Relax, Bree. I’m a grown-ass man. My mother isn’t just going to come waltzing into my house without even knocking.”

As if on cue, there was a loud knock, followed by the squeaky creak of the screen door swinging open.

“Hello?”

I jumped back from Ryder so fast I made Usain Bolt look like an aging turtle. Ryder grinned. Leaning in close, he whispered in my ear, “See, I told you? She knocked.” A shiver rippled down my neck as Gigi entered the kitchen.

“Well, hello there, kids,” Gigi said, gliding into the kitchen. It was clear she felt very at home here. She headed straight over to Ryder, giving him a squeeze, and he leaned down so she could also give him an obligatory peck on the cheek.

“Hey, Mom. You remember Bree, from the football game?” He motioned to the island where I was leaning nonchalantly, doing my best to look innocent and virginal. I doubted she bought it for a second, but it was worth a shot.

“Hi, Mrs. McCauliffe.” I gave her a finger wave.

“Oh, call me Gigi, everyone does.” She stepped forward and gave me a squeeze similar to the one she’d given Ryder. Maybe she was buying my act after all.

“I just came over here to tell you kids that dinner will be ready in about ten minutes, so you better wash up.” She wagged her finger at Ryder, like she’d probably done when he was a boy.

“Can I do anything to help?” I offered, biting my lip and trying to stand up straight, even though I was dying of nerves.

“The food’s almost ready, but you can come keep me company. We’ll let Ryder wrangle the little rascals.” She beamed at Ryder, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Shit. I did not want to play ‘Twenty Questions’ with Ryder’s mom, but she’d left me no choice. I followed her out the door, pausing only long enough to shoot Ryder a pleading look, mentally urging him to hurry up.

We walked over to the main house, which had a similar layout to Ryder’s, only bigger. I trailed her to the kitchen, where I noted she’d set the table for seven. Quickly doing the mental math, I realized someone else would be joining for dinner as well.Quinn, I thought with a groan. The afternoon kept getting better. I only hoped Quinn would keep his negative opinions to himself. Either that, or maybe I could turn the tide of favor in my direction.

“So, Bree,” Gigi said, filling the water pitcher at the farmhouse sink. “Tell me about yourself.”

I stood beside her at the counter, clasping and unclasping my hands. My mouth was suddenly dry. Clearing my throat, I said, “I live in LA, but I’m here visiting my sister and my niece.”

“That’s nice,” she smiled at me encouragingly, her grey bob bouncing. “How long are you planning on staying?”

I shrugged, gnawing on my bottom lip. I forced myself to make eye contact with her.

“I’m not really sure. It’s all kind of up in the air.” I clasped my hands, then changed my mind and unclasped them.

“I see,” she said, nodding. She walked to the table, placed the pitcher in the center, then turned back to me. “Is there any possibility that you’ll be staying here long-term?” She raised her eyebrows at me.

I shifted from foot to foot, took a deep breath. “Possibly.”

I hadn’t really thought past next week, to be honest, but it seemed like a good answer at the moment.

Gigi walked over to me, grabbing both of my hands, and stared at me in earnest.

“I see that Ryder is happy and I believe I can attribute that to you. He’s had a tough few years, a lot of heartbreak. I don’t want to see him go through that again.” She locked misty eyes with me, then squeezed my hands tight.

“Hey, Gigi!” Charlie’s voice rang out. Then there were loud footsteps heading toward the kitchen and in minutes, the space filled with people—Ryder, Charlie, Alex, and Pops, who was wearing a red “Kiss the Cook!” apron and carrying a large platter of burgers.

“Hey guys! You washed up, right?” Gigi inspected both Charlie and Alex’s hands, then directed them to their seats, sitting across from Ryder and me. Gigi set about placing the condiments on the table, while Ryder helped serve the food to the kids and Pops plated the burgers. A few minutes later we were all holding hands saying the blessing, then we tucked into our food, happy murmurs rising up from the table.

“Hey guys!” Quinn’s voice bellowed down the hall.Oh boy, I thought.Here we go.

He strode into the kitchen, stopping short when he saw the cozy family tableau before him.

“Well, well, well, I didn’t know you all had company,” he said, raising his eyebrows at us, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. His face was blank, unreadable.

“Fix yourself a plate, son,” Pops said, motioning to the counter, “while the food’s still hot.”

Quinn hesitated, contemplating the offer, before he crossed the kitchen, grabbing his dish off the table. He fixed his plate and I concentrated hard on mine, not wanting to make eye contact with him. I swallowed hard over the lump in my throat, making it difficult to eat even one bite of food. I took a small sip of water instead.

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