Page 59 of Arse Over Irish Teacup
Finally, the last course was served and eaten which meant he was free to go—after he finished the last bite of whatever this chocolate dessert was. As he spooned his rich chocolate dessert into his mouth he thought back to the plane when they had ordered double desserts and combined the fruit with the chocolate. He wondered if she had done the same with Roan. He looked over to her table, watching and waiting to find out.
No, she hadn’t.
He shoved back from the table and kissed his mother goodbye, intending to say he would see her and his father at home, then quickly slip away. Pamela had other ideas.
From her seat, she caught his face when he kissed her and held him close, digging a fingernail into his skin just enough to command his full attention. “You wouldn’t be trying to sneak out early, would you, love?”
Ouch! Aidan puffed his cheeks and blew out a breath. “Come on, Mom. I’ll tell you what. Let me slip away and I’ll cook your favorite meal tomorrow.” The way to his mom’s sharp, French-manicured fingernail was through her stomach.
Pamela smiled and dislodged her fingernail but remained cupping his cheek. She loved her son’s homemade meatballs and sauce. If he hadn’t been an author, he could have been a chef, but being a mother meant making sacrifices and right now she was about to sacrifice a perfectly wonderful meal. “Why don’t you ask Beth to dance?”
He stood up and backed away. “Could we not discuss this?” All he wanted was to get the hell out of there. Why was that too much to ask?
She could have shouted at him but there was no need to make this a public conversation. Pamela stood up and stepped to him. “I didn’t say you should marry her.” Although she wanted to. “Just dance. You weren’t enjoying yourself at all until Beth arrived and she obviously enjoys being with you.”
“Obviously?”
“Come on. She doesn’t look at Roan the way she looks at you.”
“And how does she look at me?”
“Her eyes practically dance! Don’t try and tell me you haven’t noticed.” Pamela knew he wouldn’t be pushing Beth away if he hadn’t noticed.
Aidan looked over toward Beth to see for himself and was disappointed to find her seat empty.
“All I’m saying is, enjoy yourself for once.”
Uh-huh. If that was all she was saying then he was the Sultan of Kathmandu. “Would you stop pushing?”
“Well, love, somebody has to. You can’t sulk forever.”
“I’m not sulking!”
“Sure, you are. And it’s become worse since you got here. If you ask me?—”
“I’m not asking you.”
“But—”
Aidan mushed his fingertips into his forehead. He loved his mother. She had the kindest heart of anyone, but so help him … “Mom, I’m begging you. Please, leave this alone.”
“All right.” She kissed his cheek where she wanted to slap him, turned, and sat back down.
Something was up. She’d given up too easily. Pamela Turner never obediently sat down and did as she was asked. Never.
Who cares! Get away while you still can!
He’d nearly made it to the front door when the call of nature rang. Fine. A quick piss, then go!
Once through, he zipped up his trousers, washed his hands, and—almost home free—dashed out the door, crashing into Beth, who was leaving the ladies’ room.
“Now who’s doing the crashing?” she teased.
“Sorry about that. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
There was a moment of awkward silence before either spoke. He needed to leave but he didn’t want her last memory of him to be him running out on her yet again. “Did you enjoy dinner?” Aidan asked.
