Page 45 of After Midnight

“Listen, this is a no-pressure thing,” I said as soon as he answered. “I’ve already told my dads we’re friends and you need a safe place just to hang out and enjoy yourself for a while. Papa K is already headed to the bakery to get croissants, and trust me, we don’t disappoint Papa K when he’s doing the brunch prep thing. I do plan on doing some cooking, though. I’d also thought about making toast, but Papa K put the brakes on that idea. Unless you want toast? We do have some good local jams for you to try. Hmm, yeah, we should have toast. Good morning, by the way.”

Dominic chuckled, and I secretly delighted in the sound. “Seems someone’s already had their morning coffee. And okay, I’ll come over. But for real, it’s not a meet-the-parents thing, right?”

“Totally not. I can’t promise they won’t try to play matchmaker, but that’s not to pressure you or anything. They’re both hopeless romantics and would love to tie me down in a relationship.”

“That’s scary,” he admitted, and I laughed.

“We’ll just play up the friend thing, you’ll be fine.”

“Okay, but please let them know I may bow out early. It’s been a long and draining week, story of my life these days.”

“I’ll tell them, and like I said, no pressure. See you around eleven?”

“Sure,” he said. “Should I bring anything?”

“Nope, just yourself. But maybe don’t wear anything that clashes with red? The house is prepped for my dads’ big Valentine’s Day Gala and the place looks like Cupid himself sprayed it down with a firehose.”

Dominic snorted a laugh. “Stick with neutral tones, got it. See you soon.”

When he disconnected, I did a happy dance and made a beeline for the shower.

Chapter nineteen

Dominic

As I drove up to Dillon’s mansion, I immediately regretted my decision. I’ll be honest, I’d become a bit prejudiced against people with this level of wealth since meeting Margarette. She would occasionally make friends with someone ridiculously wealthy, always a man, then parade the girls in front of him like her little show ponies. Sometimes she included me, too, when I was younger, as a way to demonstrate how generous she was to us poor orphans.

Typically, the rich men she attracted were as nasty and selfish as she was, albeit in different ways. Thankfully, they rarely even acknowledged us kids. Still, I’d long ago decided I preferred avoiding them if at all possible, which made this situation at Dillon’s even harder.

I parked my Subaru in the circle drive and forced myself to get out. I took a deep breath and was about to ring the doorbell when the front door opened, and Dillon stood looking at me with a silly grin on his face.

“You made it,” he said, and I had to smile back at him. I almost made some smart remark about “making it” but it was clipped short by his happy demeanor.

He led me inside, took my coat and scarf, and introduced me to his fathers.

I was immediately taken aback by all the Valentine’s décor. Dillon had warned me, but the visual onslaught was a sight to behold. The home, in contrast to my own, was decorated floor to ceiling for the holiday of love. My mind immediately thought,elegantly over the top.

Red roses were strewn throughout the house, and I’d honestly never seen such massive flower arrangements. Sparkling crystal decorations hung from every available hook, and little Cupid figurines peeked out from various nooks and crannies.

I probably resembled a bobblehead, taking it all in, as Dillon led me into the kitchen. “Dominic, this is my papa, Kalen, and my dad, Allen. Dads, this is my friend, Dominic Lawson.”

“Dominic, it’s a pleasure to welcome you into our home,” Allen said, sounding genuine.

Kalen shook my hand and pulled me into a hug. “I do love a brunch, and we’re so happy you could join us,” he said, then turned back toward whatever he’d been preparing on the stove.

“He’s not joking,” Dillon said. “I was supposed to be making a frittata, but Papa K reminded me I sucked at cooking, so he took over.”

“I would tell you about the first and only time Dillon attempted making brunch by himself, but we promised him not to embarrass him,” Kalen said. “So, we’ll save that story for another time… want to join us for dinner?”

“Papa K is exaggerating,” Dillon said, rolling his eyes. “We only had to throwonepan away. Besides, Dad ate my quiche without complaint.”

“I’m a natural-born performer, honey,” Allen quipped. “Just thinking about that quivering egg concoction you dished up gives me heartburn.”

All three of them chuckled.

I smiled at their playful teasing, but I suddenly felt overwhelmed by this family. Probably because it resembled what I’d once had and lost. I still missed my dads and this brought the memories flooding back.

I followed Dillon in as he and his dad escorted me through the formal entryway into an intimate breakfast nook just off the kitchen. The table was overflowing with pastries, which prompted me to ask, “How many people are coming?”

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