Page 50 of Playing for Keeps

Duke’s tension eases once he realizes his stripper hookup only warranted a few chuckles from us. My dad getting laid isn’t a big deal. I grew up with my Grandma Erin randomly showing up with old dudes she met around the state.

She never had a type of man. It was always about opportunity. Most available men her age were either losers or widowers still in love with their dead wives.

As we finish breakfast, I feel guilty over how I get to be with someone like Val while my family has never enjoyed such romance.

Of course, my father liked my mom. They had fun together. Kerrie made him laugh. He was patient with her eccentric nature. They rarely argued.

But they never shared what I feel for Val. My mom has that goofy, gooey kind of love with her dork Minnesota husband now.

While I certainly don’t hope Duke falls for a stripper, I do want him to be happy. Maybe that’s why I don’t brag about how much fun Val and I had together yesterday.

I keep my joy on the down low during breakfast and only mention how I’m meeting with the homestead women to shop for dresses this week.

“I hoped Mom would fly in early to help me pick the dress,” I mumble when I consider Kerrie’s lack of excitement over my wedding.

“Kerrie doesn’t view this marriage as the real deal,” Duke explains and strokes my back. “You should tell her how Val is the guy you want and not the one you’re stuck with.”

I smile at his wording. “Val’s great. I can’t wait until you warm up to him. He’s going to make you feel much better about the future.”

Duke’s soft gaze goes wary. “Even if he isn’t the club’s savior, he makes you happy. That makes him worthwhile in my book.”

Changing the subject, Grandma Erin asks, “Did you pick a bridesmaid dress color yet?”

“I’m leaning toward a shade of red,” I admit, and Clover’s mouth falls open in horror. “Red is a good color on you.”

“Red doesn’t seem very wedding-like,” Duke says, wearing his “meddling father” expression. “Why not choose something pastel like your mom had at her wedding to Merv?”

“Because I don’t like pastels,” I reply and pull up my phone. “This wild rose color isn’t slutty like you think.”

“I never said slutty.”

“You were judging me with your eyes,” I reply, and he shrugs. “The color’s flattering. It’ll even look nice on Alexis with her red hair.”

“Okay, that’s not bad,” Duke says as he checks the photos on my phone. “I thought you meant fire-engine red.”

“I have good taste.” When my family doesn’t agree immediately, I scowl. “I do.”

“Okay, kid,” Duke taunts and taps the phone. “That’s a good color. Maybe you can find a dress that doesn’t upset your sister.”

We glance at Clover wearing her heartbroken pout. I hug her against me, but she only looks ready to crawl out of her skin.

“I was looking at the designs available at the store. They have jumpsuit styles.”

Clover instantly stops pouting. “I don’t wear dresses.”

“I know.”

“I’ll do it for you, but I don’t want to.”

“I want you to feel comfortable. It’s a party for Val and me, not a punishment.”

With Clover smiling easier now, Grandma Erin makes a big deal out of the jumpsuit style to pump up my sister for the shopping experience. I love how excited they are.

This is what I want. No more doom and gloom talk. I want to celebrate my good fortune.

With Val still in Tumbling Rock, I find myself following my dad around after breakfast.

“Back off,” Duke tells me when I tail him too closely on his way to the garage.

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