Page 39 of I Do With You

Okay, so this is what being the flash point at the center of the gossip feels like. Gotta say, I’m not a fan—at all.

“Um,goodfriends?” I amend my earlier declaration.

“Harrumph,” Dad snorts. I think he’s hiding a grin at Mom’s guerilla-style approach to getting everything in the open. Neither of them are inclined to play games or hide their thoughts.

Maybe that’s why I didn’t tell them about my doubts about Roy. I knew they’d give it to me straight, and I wasn’t ready for it then. Now, hearing that they don’t think I’m crazy for running reassures me that I’m doing the right thing. For me.

“Ben, seeing as you’re such a ‘good friend’ of Hope’s, I assume you’re staying for lunch?” Mom says. It should be an invitation, but it’s most definitely not—it’s an order. He’s not getting out of here yet, and neither am I. Mom stands to head to the kitchen, but she pauses. “Hope, Joy, won’t you help me?” That’s not a question either. Given the arch of her brow and the abrupt change in conversation, I can expect an FBI-level interrogation in the kitchen.

But it also leaves Ben with Dad and Shepherd.

I look at him, making sure he’s fully aware he’s getting thrown to the wolves as a sacrifice. He flashes me an easy grin, completely fine. I hope he knows what he’s getting into. I’m still tempted to give him a quick kiss—on the cheek, of course—as a goodbye, just in case Shepherd scares him off, but something tells me that Ben’s made of sterner stuff than that and can not only withstand my brother but also possibly give him a run for his money.

Is it bad that I kinda want to see that? A sexy, sweaty, fighting Ben, I mean. Fuck knows, I’ve seen my brother fight more than is reasonable for any human.

In the kitchen, Mom is already pulling a casserole out of the oven. Of course she’s prepared. She and Dad are the ones who called the family meeting, and she probably went straight to cooking as a distraction from my drama. “Grab the stuff to set the table,” she instructs us. “Nothin’ fancy.”

Mom and Dad aren’t traditional types. Sure, Mom cooks, but Dad grills several nights a week. And they both clean up, dancing around the kitchen while doing the dishes together, or assigning one of us kidsto do them if it’s a family meal. But it’s bigger than chores and household tasks. They’re partners in every sense of the word, which is what I expected with Roy. That, unfortunately, wasn’t the case at all.

A tiny elf in the back of my mind shoves forward the memory of Ben feeding me pickles and beer on what should’ve been the happiest day of my life but turned into a disaster. I’d gone to bed, too exhausted to worry about the mess, and he’d taken care of it. He’s taken care of me in so many ways. The difference is notable, and I like it.

“Now that Dad and Shep are interrogating your ‘friend,’ give us the scoop,” Joy demands as she lays out plates. Apparently, she’s playing the part of Mom’s lackey for round two of today’s interrogation.

I grab silverware and smile. “He’s great. I’m not jumping into anything, and he’s only here for a few weeks, but ... yeah, he’s great.” So, a wordsmith, I’m not. I’ll leave that to Ben, I guess. “Oh! He writes songs!” I add excitedly.

“So Ben the tourist writes songs, rescues runaway brides, and has no qualms standing up to me or Shep,” Joy summarizes, nodding as she considers the information. “Yep, told you I liked him, Mom. Better than Roy, for sure, though that’s not hard to do.” She makes a face, showing just what she thinks about that. It seems Joy’s been holding back a lot and is no longer going to do it.

“I had no idea you didn’t like Roy,” I tell her. “It feels like you’ve been hiding something really important from me.”

She stops her trip around the table to stare at me. I swear I can feel our twin-lepathy tingling in my head. “Sis, you wouldn’t have heard me. And keeping my opinion to myself isn’t the same thing as keeping secrets. Believe me, if I’d found out Roy was cheating, gambling, or doing shady shit, I would’ve been nose-to-nose with you, showing you proof in a hot second. Unfortunately, he wasn’t. Or at least, not that I could find—and believe me, I tried.” She rolls her eyes, and I wonder what journalist-level investigation she went through.

I can understand her reasoning. I probably wouldn’t have listened to her if she’d said anything bad about Roy or my plans. I was too stuck,wallowing in that deep rut and spinning my tires only to dig in even deeper. “Okay, forgiven. And in the vein of not keeping secrets, Ben’s also a really good kisser,” I whisper.

“Oh my God! I knew it!” Joy shouts, and I shush her by slapping my hand over her mouth. Luckily, it’s the one not holding the forks, so she keeps both of her eyes. “‘Friends,’ my ass!” she says behind my palm.

“Girls,” Mom scolds, but she looks pretty interested in that last tidbit too. Still, she’s a mother first, and she’s got to take the opportunity to give advice. It’s what mothers do. “Be careful, honey. I know you kids think a ricochet can help after a bad breakup, but you have to fix yourself before your heart’s ready for anything else.”

Joy and I look at each other in confusion. I mouth,Ricochet?

“Rebound, Mom,” Joy corrects as she eventually catches on to Mom’s bad choice of words. “Not a ricochet. And her heart doesn’t need to be ready, just her kitty cat. If it was me, I’d be bounding, rebounding, and rebounding some more. Have you seen that man?” Joy points back toward the living room, pumping her hips and smacking the air like she’s in a Megan Thee Stallion video. “Me-owww!”

A zap of jealousy shoots through me. It must show on my face or she must hear the death threats in my mind through our telepathy, because she smirks. “Gotcha.”

I blush because there’s no hiding my reaction from Joy or Mom. “I don’t know. Things just officially ended with Roy, so I’m taking it slow.”

“Slow?” Mom repeats, her eyes so wide I can see the whites all around her blue irises. “Honey, a few days ago you were marrying another man. Now you’re going on dates all over town with Ben, staying at his place, kissing him, and bringing him home to meet your parents. If that’s what you call ‘slow,’ I don’t want to know what fast looks like.”

She might have a point, but I don’t want to slow down.

Chapter 14

BEN

“What’d you think?” Hope asks from the passenger seat.

Leaving her parents’ house after lunch was a thirty-minute endeavor of hugs, promises to call if we need anything, and more hugs. It was cute, which is a word I don’t think I’ve used a single time in my life, but I don’t know how else to describe them.

But I try.

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