Page 91 of Mensa's Match

“Good grief. Why would you put her on your motorcycle? If you’re being chased, you should have gone to a police station. For that matter, you should have loaded into Riley’s car.”

Mensa let out a long exhale. “The moment shots were fired, Finn was taking care of Riley.” He tipped his head toward me. “Her car had been stolen, so we didn’t have any other choice than my bike. If I weren’t part of a club, I might have gone to the police station, Ma. But it doesn’t matter. It’s done. We’re safe, and that’s it.”

Dean turned to Celeste. “He’s right, honey. Let it go.”

I couldn’t stop my mouth from running. “To be fair, I told him we should have waited for the police to arrive.”

Celeste looked at Dean as if to say, ‘See?’

Mensa’s stern tone stole my attention though. “And we’d have been shot, Whitney.”

I gave him a closed-lip smile. “Not if we’d taken cover, but like your dad says, we should let it go.”

“What’d you do to the potatoes tonight, Auntie Celeste? Did you use a different seasoning?”

Celeste glanced over to Riley and nodded. “I did.” She looked at me. “Where are you from, Whitney?”

“Maryland, not far from Ocean City.”

Dean’s face lit up with his grin. “I love that area. The crab cakes can’t be beat.”

We continued to eat while I endured a variety of new-girlfriend questions from his parents. It wasn’t the ideal ‘meet the parents’ dinner, but what could I expect? It wasn’t every day I had dinner with people who were related to an investigation subject.

For some reason, the mundane questions felt like exaggerated small talk, and it drained me more than Celeste’s pointed questions about the investigation or the bar. I don’t know if he sensed my unease, but Finn jumped into the conversational fray and diverted the focus away from me.

In no time, I carried my plate to the kitchen, following Mensa. Celeste and Dean had stayed at the table chatting with Finn and Riley.

No sooner had I set my plate next to the sink, than Mensa whirled to me and wrapped his arms around me.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

He kissed me, which answered my question somewhat.

Luckily he kept it brief. When he let me go, I peered up at him. “What was that for?”

The left side of his lips quirked. “You’re something else, Blume.”

“I still don’t know what the big deal is.”

He shook his head. “You’ll deny this, but Mom wasn’t cool with you.”

“You’re right, I would deny that since any parent would be concerned about their son bringing home a flake—”

“You arenota flake.”

I dipped my chin. “I was going to say, ‘flakey woman,’ which, from the outside looking in, I appear to be.”

He mirrored my chin dip. “You got a raw deal – no matter what you tell me – and you’re taking care of a family business.”

“Many might see that as selling myself short.”

He shook his head. “Bullshit. You handed me a diatribe about how difficult it is to run a small business. In no way is that selling yourself short. Hell, I’ve heard Sandy mention what Nadia charges for a new cut. If you take over and grow that business, you’ll be successful and anyone who’s got a problem with it can fuck right off.”

My body shook with my chuckle. “Telling people that won’t help me grow my business, honey.”

He stepped back and rinsed our plates. “No, but it’s the attitude you need to have so you aren’t worked over by anyone in the future.”

“Kenneth, are you bringing in dessert? I made your favorite angel food cake with the icing you love,” Celeste called from the dining room.

---