Page 88 of Fair Catch

“Hopefully in more ways than one.”

Twenty-Two

Kason

The amount of tension and anxiety in my body as we stop at the gate outside Hayes’ parents house could be cut with a knife, it’s so thick, and the second the wrought iron doors shift open, giving way for us to pull through, it increases exponentially.

Hayes steers his car through the opening, and the second the house itself comes into view, my jaw might as well be on the ground.

“How much money did you say your family has?” I find myself asking while I gape at the massive home. I don’t even know how to describe it other than that it looks like a ginormous version of those little cottages in Germany or Switzerland—with emphasis on the ginormous part.

Hayes glances my way from the driver’s seat and smirks. “I don’t think I did.”

Oh, Jesus take the wheel.

The nerves only get worse when Hayes leads me through the front door, calling out to his parents that we’ve arrived before hauling me through the opulent foyer, then through the living room that’s massive enough to hold half a football field.

I feel like I’ve just walked into a freaking fairytale, and now I’m just waiting for Cinderella to pop out of the damn broom closet to tell me I don’t belong.

We round the corner to the kitchen—which looks like it belongs in a five-star restaurant rather than a home—where we find a middle-aged woman with Hayes’ same dark curls and sapphire eyes who can only be his mother.

She may as well have stepped out of a magazine, dressed in an elegant knee length dress and heels, crimson painting her lips.

“Hayes, darling,” she greets as soon as she sees us, a smile illuminating her face. “You’re early. I thought you’d said you wouldn’t be here ‘til dinner.”

“Hey, Mom,” he murmurs, kissing her cheek as she wraps him in a hug. “Kason’s Coach ended up giving them the day off. Figured I’d come help you get things ready.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t need to do that,” she chides when she pulls back. Her glittering gaze flashes to me, and she smiles. “And you must be Kason.”

Stepping forward, I hold out my hand, which she gingerly takes.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Lancaster. Thank you for allowing me to join you for your holiday dinner,” I say with the most Southern charm I can muster.

Her smile is sugar sweet as I release her. “Of course. Any friend of Hayes’ is welcome.”

My eyes flash to Hayes, finding him waiting for me to make the next move. He’s abiding by his promise to come as simply friends and roommates, but now that I’m here in freaking Martha Stewart’s kitchen with his mother, I don’t want to be anything other than his.

Giving him a discreet nod, I reach toward him. He meets me halfway, linking his fingers with mine.

“Actually,” Hayes says, his attention flicking to his mother. “He’s also my boyfriend.”

To her credit, she doesn’t so much as stumble at the information. In fact, I think her eyes take on the slightest sheen as she glances between the two of us, clapping her hands together.

“Even better.” She smiles, all bright and cheerful. “We’ve got about an hour until dinner will be ready, so why don’t you show Kason around, and I’ll call when we’re ready to eat?”

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” I offer, doing my best to be polite. “We could set the table, and I’m pretty good in the kitch—”

“That’s quite all right, dear. The table’s set, and as for the food, I’ve got it covered.”

With her dismissal, Hayes takes my hand and leads me around the familyestatethat has apparently been in his family for nearly as many generations as the family business—dating back to the late 1800s.

As hard as it is for me to imagine growing up in a place like this, I can see why Hayes is so guarded about it. It’s easy to see how someone might be granted access to this level of financial security and do whatever they can to take advantage of it.

And while Hayes has mentioned that very thing being the case, it was hard to understand the scale and magnitude of why until now.

True to her word, Mrs. Lancaster sends one of their staff to find us nearly an hour later, well before we’ve seen all of the grounds, and escort us to the formal dining room where we’re to have dinner.

Kason’s father and brother are already seated at the massive table that could easily seat a dozen or more people, both donning clothes I’d consider a bit fancy for a family dinner, though still consistent with the khakis and knit sweater Hayes is wearing.

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