Page 33 of Falling for You
“I need to get her out of here.” The man hitched his thumb over his shoulder toward his house. “Might as well sell her for a song and know she’s in good hands.”
With a lift of her shoulder, CeCe agreed. The deal was set. “We’ll pick the truck up next week.” A couple handshakes and it was done.
CeCe led the way back to the car. “That’s a great truck. We really lucked out. Did you see how new that fryer was? We barely need to scour the stainless steel.”
Evan tried to relax as he took the last few turns to his parent’s house, but it was no use. Not even CeCe’s excitement could dull the sense of dread coursing through his veins. He’d spent the last few nights tossing and turning about this family dinner.
First, he had to tell his parents about his web contract. Since it wasn’t a traditional job, he assumed his father would hate the notion. Next there was the food truck competition. Would they even understand how exciting it was? And lastly, and most worrisome, was that he was bringing a girl to dinner. Not just any girl, CeCe. Evan was on pins and needles. Family meals never happened without a hefty dose of drama.
As he pulled up to his parent’s house, he saw the familiar cars of his sisters and their husbands. He and CeCe were the last to arrive. She reached for the door handle to exit the car when Evan took her elbow. “Wait,” he pleaded as he cleared his throat. He felt frantic and needed to calm down.
CeCe pulled back and frowned. She studied him a moment before asking, “Are you okay?”
Was he okay? His pounding heartbeat and sweaty temples were a good sign he was far from okay. He shook his head and tried to collect his thoughts. “This kind of snuck up on me.” He gestured toward the house, hoping the movement would convey every rogue thought he was battling. “I mean family dinner. They’re going to ask who you are.”
CeCe laughed, deliberately misunderstanding his statement. “I’m CeCe LaRue. I’m a chef at the diner with you. I’m twenty-nine years old, a Virgo, and—"
Evan laughed, a tad of the tension melting away. It was hard to be stressed when CeCe shared a genuine smile. CeCe smiles were meant to be treasured, and he wanted the time now to savor it, to tuck it away for safe keeping.
“Thank you,” he finally said. “I don’t want my family to scare you off.”
CeCe got serious for a moment and turned to face him. “I’m not going anywhere. I know we just figured this out”—she flapped her hand between them—“but first and foremost, you’ve been a good friend, Evan. It’s going to take more than a couple nosey sisters to scare me off.”
In that moment, he wanted to kiss her senseless, to pull her to him and show her all the things she made him feel. But it was 5:20 p.m. on a Sunday, and he was currently parked in front of his parents’ house. This wasn’t the time or the place. With a sigh, he opened his car door and took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”
Just when their feet hit the sidewalk, the front door burst open as Lucy and Jackson sprinted to the car to meet them. “Uncle Evan!” the kids chorused, each grabbing a leg and squealing as Evan ruffled both of their heads.
“Hey, kiddos. How have you gotten so big?”
Lucy was the first to step back, pleased to hear that she’d sprouted up since their last visit. She smoothed the pink fabric of her princess costume and nodded toward her little brother. “I’m over four inches taller than Jackson,” she declared, holding four fingers in the air triumphantly.
“Yeah, but I’m faster,” Jackson countered. In a flash, he’d spun on his sneakered heels and darted back toward the house.
Lucy didn’t try to follow her brother. Instead, she turned to face CeCe and dipped in a curtsy. “Hello, I’m Princess Lucy. You must be Uncle Evan’s special friend.”
CeCe bit back a smile and attempted her own version of a curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, your highness.” CeCe winked at the little girl, who giggled in delight.
Lucy took her uncle’s hand and pulled him down to her face. “I like her,” she stage-whispered. “Time for dinner,” she announced and dragged them both toward the house. Evan caught CeCe’s eye over Lucy’s glittering tiara, and his heart swelled. CeCe was a natural with kids, and he didn’t realize until that moment how important that was to him.
“There you kids are,” his mother greeted from the doorway. She was still dressed for church in heels with her hair done, a checkered apron over her dress. “We were about to send out a search party.” She patted her granddaughter on the head before pulling Evan into a warm embrace. “It’s good to see you, dear.”
Evan allowed his mother a moment to squeeze the stuffing out of him before he drew back to introduce CeCe. He had no idea how his mother would react, and it terrified him.
From the corner of his eye, he could see CeCe fidgeting with the strap of her purse, her shoulders bunched up to her ears. He’d rarely seen her nervous, and it pulled a little in his chest. “Mom, this is CeCe.”
“CeCe, it’s so nice to meet you.” His mother reached out and gave CeCe a quick hug before pulling back and admiring her son’s date. “You’re as lovely as Mallory said.”
“For once, Mal told the truth,” Evan scoffed.
“I heard that,” Mallory said in greeting as she joined them in the doorway. She waved at CeCe before playfully punching Evan in the arm.
CeCe reached into her bag and presented his mother with a bag of cheesy bites she made as a bribe. “I made these for you and your husband. Thank you for having me over.”
His mom took the bag and smiled, clearly touched that CeCe brought a hostess gift. “Thank you, dear. That is so thoughtful.”
Mallory snatched the bag from her mom and moaned. “Are these what I think they are?” she asked, trying to open the bag.
Evan took the parcel from his sister and held it in the air, knowing she’d never be able to reach it. Playing keep-away was one thing from childhood that never got old. “Yes, and she didn’t make them for you, Mal.”
