Page 137 of Best In Class
Mama sighs. “That girl is too careful.”
“She just needs time.”
“I don’t like this.”
“Would you prefer it if I didn’t stay the night here?” If she said so, I’d do it for her. Luna would understand. None of us wants to distress my mother.
She lets out a long breath. “I’m being an old woman, aren’t I?”
“No, Mama. You’re holding to your values.”
“No, I don’t want you both apart. I…that’s not right. In myheart, and I know in yours and hers, you’re already together, married.”
She’s justifying my presence, and I’m okay with that.
I take her hands in mine. “How about if I tell you I’ll ask her to marry me this year,andI think I can convince her to have the wedding before next summer?”
Mama’s eyes brighten. “You think that’s possible?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then maybe I can see some grandchildren soon.” Mama’s eyes fill with tears.
I let her hands go. “Mama, she hasn’t even said yes, and you’re thinking kids!”
She smiles. “That’s my job. Now go to bed and do yours.”
I make a face. “Pleaseneversay that again.”
She flings a kitchen towel at me. “I didn’t meanthat. You…be there for her. That’s what I meant.”
“Sure, you did,” I tease. I lean down and kiss her. “Let me walk you to your place, yeah?”
I get her to her place and wait until she gets into bed before heading back to Luna’s.
When I get into bed, she shifts and nuzzles into me, resting her head on my shoulder. “Miss Abigail give you the third degree?”
“She did.”
“And?”
“I blamed you.”
“Asshole,” she mumbles and bites my chest gently.
I kiss her forehead. “I’m going to ask you soon,” I warn her.
“I’ll be ready,” she promises sleepily.
CHAPTER 36
Luna
The sun is starting to slip behind the horizon, and I’m barefoot in the sand with a glass of champagne in hand, laughing so hard I nearly spill the golden bubbles down my sundress.
Miss Abigail is telling a story—loudly—about Dom’s first crush (spoiler alert: it wasme), and it is, to put it mildly, humiliating for him.
“I swear on my skillet, he was ten years old and writing poetry…ahaiku. I still remember it,” she says, hand on her hip, miming dramatically. “Luna smells so good. Like bubble gum and shampoo and dreams. I’d eat her notebook.”
