Page 46 of Just One of the Groomsmen
She could pinpoint the moment it’d happened, too.
I never should’ve put on that damn pink dress.
Chapter Eleven
“Are you a lesbian?”
Addie nearly choked on her water.
Her grandmother’s face remained dead serious, narrowed eyes intently studying her.
The other night, Alexandria had called Addie to find out how her date with the dentist went, and she’d relayed that in spite of wearing sexy underwear, she still wasn’t sure they had any chemistry.
Evidently her sister thought she’d said,Please tell Mom and Nonna that I’m planning on sabotaging things with him so they can give me the Spanish Inquisition treatment when I next see them.
While the three of them worked on preparing dinner in the kitchen, her mom and grandmother had fired off question after question. Then she and Nonna had been caught doing their distract-Mom-while-the-other-person-adds-sugar-and/or-butter scheme, and they’d been banished to the living room, where her grandmother continued to press for more information on where she and the dentist stood.
Addie had said, “Honestly, I’m not rightly sure. But I can’t force myself to be more attracted to him,” which led to the question that still hung in the air.
Addie glanced at her parents—first at her dad, parked in front of the TV in the living room, then through the archway leading to the kitchen, where Mom moved among the fridge, counter, and stove, busy with dinner preparations.
“It’s okay if you are,” Nonna said, taking her hand and patting it. “You never had very long romantic-type relationships with boys, and whilesì, some folks in this town are closed-minded, I sure they be more accepting than you might expect. And who cares what they think anyway? I just want you to find someone who make you happy.”
“As lovely as that sentiment is, and as much as I agree about not caring what people think, I’m not a lesbian, Nonna.” Sure, she’d initially resisted the idea of going solo for the rest of her life, but she decided it would be easier if she simply embraced her fate. “I’m a spinster.”
Her grandmother gasped.“No,cuore mio! This can’t be!” Her spirited response gained the attention of both of Addie’s parents.
Mom poked her head inside the room. “Everything okay in there?”
“We’re fine,” Addie said in a false singsong voice.
“This is no fine, missy.” Nonna huffed as she crossed her arms. “Why don’t you at least try to find nice girl who make you happy? Just see.”
If only that wouldn’t be as difficult as forcing sparks with the dentist, she’d seriously consider it. “I’m fine with being a spinster. It means I get to do what I want, when I want. No one else getting in the way.”
Nonna adamantly shook her head.
The doorbell rang, saving her from enduring further grief on the subject of her dating life—albeit temporarily, knowing her grandmother.
Addie excused herself to answer, and her muscles did a clashing mix of sagging with relief and tightening with desire as she took in Tucker and the way the dark-gray button-down shirt somehow brought out the blue in his eyesandmade him look like he’d recently been chopping lumber.
One errant wave stuck out from his gelled-down hair, and he hadn’t shaved, something she shouldn’t be so excited about, considering it only made her conflicting feelings that much stronger.
At one time, Mom had insisted they dress up for Sunday dinners. After battling Dad, Nonna, and Addie for an uncomfortable couple of months, Mom finally gave in but insisted Addie at least wear jeans and shoes that didn’t need to be tied. She’d chosen Rocket Dogs that slipped on, a form of mutiny Mom only hadn’t commented on yet due to the dentist discussion.
“Come on in,” Addie said, stepping aside.
Tucker brushed past her, and she got a whiff of something woodsy and abundantly male, and while she’d already known, it confirmed that she was 100 percent into dudes.
Now if she could just find one at least 70 or so percent into her, maybe the spinster future her grandmother feared wouldn’t be her fate.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Mom yelled from the kitchen. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. Addie, can you offer him a drink?”
“No,” she said. “But he can get his own drink.”
Mom’s sigh carried all the way into the living room. Sounded like she was still upset, either about Addie refusing to divulge more details about her dating life or her and Nonna’s kitchen shenanigans.
Possibly both.
