Page 101 of Knockin' Boats
But I should have known Mom would try to revise history and put us back together as a couple.
Little did she know how far off base she was, since I couldn’t get Sawyer out of my fucking head.
Mel had gotten most of the details out of me—minus the dirtiest parts—and was annoyingly gloating that she’d guessed I was hot for him years ago.
Not that she’dtoldme in so many words. I kind of wish she’d explained it to me like I was a little kid. Then maybe I would have understood.
Even after last night, the ground shifted beneath my feet, knocking me off-balance. Like the world had tipped just a little, settling into a new gravitational pull. And that pull led right to Sawyer.
Mom’s gaze fell to the plate I held, which contained samosa puffs, a favorite of hers. I’d used the resort kitchen to fill pastry with cheesy potatoes and spices, folding them into little triangles, crimping the edges, and baking them to a golden, crispy brown.
I’d had to fight the urge to go visit Sawyer while there. That’s how strong that fucking pull was. But I needed to play it cool. Sawyer wasn’t ready for the full boyfriend experience.
Hell, I wasn’t sure I was ready either, but after losing Sawyer once, a part of me wanted to cling on to make sure it didn’t happen again.
“Happy birthday to me!” Mom said, taking the plate from my hands. “You’re the best son ever.”
Rick stepped around Mel to join us. “The best son ever would have shown up on time.”
He snagged a puff from the plate, popping it into his mouth before Mom could even try one.
He chewed. “Hmm. Almost as good as the ones at the Eberly party, huh? That caterer was amazing.”
“Rick,” my mom said with a head shake. “Ash made these, so I already know they’re phenomenal.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you made them,” he said. “Well, good job. We can’t all be high-dollar caterers.”
He grabbed two more, contradicting his own assertion they were just okay. “Next time, show up on time.” He turned, gazefalling on Dick Weiler, a banker who he did business with. “Hey, Dick, I saw your pics on Facebook. Congrats, man.”
He took off while Mel muttered under her breath, “Did you hear that? He likes the Dick pics.”
I bit down a laugh while Mom finally picked up a puff—after Rick had half-cleared her plate—and took a bite. She hummed, eyes fluttering close.
“You know just how I like these,” she said with a sigh.
“Sorry I don’t have a better present,” I said.
“Hush,” she said, patting my cheek with one hand. “You’re working so hard. How is the food boat going?”
“Pretty good,” I said. “I’m learning a lot about what people want out on the lake. I’ve been refining?—”
“Silvia!” Rick bellowed. “Come over here and listen to this story, honey.”
She grimaced. “I better go, or he’ll get annoyed. Tell me more later, okay, Ash? There’s drinks and hors d’oeuvres on the buffet. We’ll do the cake soon.”
She kissed my cheek and hurried over to Rick, joining the throng of businessmen and their trophy wives. I hated to think of my mother that way, but why else would she stay with a guy like him?
Mel linked arms with me. “Well, duty done. Should we mingle?”
“I guess,” I grumbled. “If I leave now, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
We moved through the room, making painful small talk with my parents’ friends. Only Mel’s sly, cutting remarks got me through it without dying of boredom.
Mom loved the idea of me and Mel together, but Rick had made no secret of the fact he looked down on her family for not being one of the wealthy snobs on this side of the lake.
I’d grown up in Bubble Butte—which was aridiculousname but a great little town—and I’d been a hell of a lot happier before Mom met Rick. Sure, we got a nice house, boats, cars, and vacations over the years. But it all came with strings.
Mel and I grabbed plates, and she loaded up with deviled eggs. The woman was a fiend for them, even though she’d be bloated as heck later.
