Page 73 of 10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

Brad perks. “If it’s not an imposition,” he says, even as he’s grinning.

“Not at all,” my mom answers. “Come. I insist.”

Brad’s palpable excitement makes it hard to remember this won’t be my…boyfriendmeeting my mom. Not yet, at least.

“We should probably get to our lunch,” I say.

“Of course,” my mom replies. “I’ll see you soon, Brad.”

“Can’t wait. It was really nice to meet you, Mama D,” he says before handing my phone over.

I click off speakerphone, bringing the device to my ear. “Mom?”

“I love him,” she says instantly.

I glance Brad’s way before walking further into the kitchen. “It’s still—”

“Early. I know. You told me. Doesn’t mean I can’t hope for my son.”

I let out a sigh. Brad is pulling his chair out now, our sandwiches sitting atop their wrappers on the table. “I hope, too.”

She hums. “I’ll let you get on with your date.”

“It’s not a—”

“Toodle-oo! Love you.”

The line goes dead, and I huff a laugh. Ever the optimist, my mom. After filling two glasses with water, I join Brad at the table. He shoots me a closed-lip smile as he chews his sandwich.

“Your mom is nice,” he says once his mouth isn’t full.

“Yeah. She’s the best, really.”

He nods. “So are we driving over?”

I pause, lips quirking. “You want to go on a forty-hour cross-country car ride? Twice?”

He shrugs. “Could be fun. Ooh! We could stop at a bunch of those weird roadside tourist traps, like the country’s biggest ball of yarn or a wax sculpture museum featuring D-list celebrities.”

“Or,” I propose, chuckling, “we fly, and it takes a fraction of the time. I’d only planned on staying the weekend, anyway.”

“Sure,” Brad says easily, sandwich hovering in front of his face. “That works. I suppose now is as good a time as any to pop my plane cherry.”

He bites into his sandwich, and I stare at him, my own food remaining untouched. “You’ve never flown?”

“Never had a reason to,” Brad mutters. He shoots me another small smile. “But hey, it’ll be an adventure. Like the pool! You know, a lot of my firsts are turning out to be with you, Joey-roo.”

He chuckles, but I flush hot. At the implication of trust, maybe? At the memory of Brad clinging to me in the water? At another first we recently shared. His first kiss with a man. And what other sorts offirstshe’s expressed interest in.

“As long as you’re sure,” I say, shifting in my seat. “We could drive if you’d rather.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he answers, giving my foot a nudge under the table. “Now eat up so we can screw.” His eyes widen, and then he coughs. “Fool—toolaround.Christ, you know what I mean. So you can show me your tool. Yourhammer. Oh my God, what is happening?”

I laugh so hard my eyes leak.

When Brad and I finish up our lunch, I head out to the garage to grab my tool bag. Remembering something Brad let slip when we first met, I grab my belt as well, slinging it around my hips.

Brad is waiting in the dining room when I get back inside, looking as if he’s inspecting the wainscoting I told him we’ll be removing.

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