Page 92 of Mensa's Match

“I’ll bring it in, Ma,” Mensa said.

Riley and Finn brought the dinner plates to the sink. While Finn rinsed them, Riley grabbed dessert plates.

“Do we need more forks?” I asked.

Riley shut the cabinet door. “Only you and Mensa. Auntie Celeste told us to save ours before we came in here.”

I grabbed two forks and mentally prepared myself for more small talk.

Mensa wrapped his arms around me from behind and nuzzled my neck. “We’ll be out of here soon, woman. Relax.”

I exhaled. “I’m fine.”

“No, but you will be. You need another glass of wine?”

With my head tipped back against his shoulder, I looked him in the eye. “Not if I’m going to drive us home.”

He did a long blink and gave a short shake of his head. “You’renotdriving us home. Live it up, woman.”

I pulled free of his hold. “Now you tell me to live it up.”

“Take the wine bottle to the table. I gotta grab the cake.”

I set a fork at Mensa’s setting, poured more wine for Riley, Celeste, and myself and then sat across from Dean.

Celeste aimed a smile at me. “I’m sorry if I was overbearing earlier. Kenneth hasn’t brought anyone to dinner… ever. Unless you count Finn and Gage.”

My brows furrowed. “Gage?”

Riley grinned. “She’s talking about Gamble. She won’t use anyone’s road names.”

“It’s clear my son cares for you a great deal.”

“And you can leave it at that, Mom, because anything else isn’t your business,” Mensa said, setting the cake on the table.

“Mensa,” I chided.

“No way, Whitney. I like that she apologized, but you aren’t answering any more questions. This cake is too damned good for any of us to be uncomfortable.”

“How about you cut the cake? Then all of us will be too busy stuffing our faces,” Dean suggested.

The way he said it sounded exactly like Mensa, and I couldn’t stop my chuckle.

“You find that funny?” Mensa asked.

I shrugged a shoulder. “Sort of. He sounds just like you… so I can see where you get it.”

“Where are you goin?” Mensa asked, tagging me at my hip before I could get to the master bathroom.

I looked up at him. “The bathroom. Hate to tell you this, but my period started earlier so I’m putting on my pajamas and brushing my teeth.”

He shifted so we were face to face. “You in pain?”

“Not right now.”

He stared at a point behind me for a beat. “Do you always abstain during your period?”

My head tilted. “No, but you can’t want to—”

---