Page 8 of The Temptation
But this visit wasn’t about my returning home. No, my mother had cooked up something far more nefarious.
She was “concerned for my happiness.”
God, was there an eviler four-word phrase?
The Bistro was a quiet, elegant restaurant with a superb wine list that was more than enough to keep my picky father happy and a relatively healthy menu that was sure to keep my mother happy as she continued to monitor my father’s cholesterol.
“Did Archer send you the latest pictures of Blake and Zane? He took them ice skating last week,” my mom asked, already picking up her phone to find the pictures of her grandchildren. The server had just left after taking our order.
“Yes, I was on the same group text. I think it’s more amazing that Archer didn’t spend most of the outing on his ass. He hasn’t ice skated in years, and he was never all that good at it in the first place.” My younger brother was built like me but possessed only half of my coordination. His wife, Jessica, on the other hand, was a graceful swan. It was a wonder what she saw in my dopey brother.
“I think Archer stuck pretty close to the wall most of the time. Jessica was the one who got the boys out onto the ice,” my father murmured.
The conversation fell into a lull, and my gaze wandered about the restaurant, taking in the dim lighting and rich atmosphere. Crystal and silverware clinked softly, accents to the low burble of people talking. Unfortunately, it didn’t help as I searched for a topic of conversation that wasn’t work related. Sometimes,my father popped into town to check on the company, and we always chatted about shifts and developments in law or contracts we were working on. However, each time my mother was present, he and I tried to steer away from work talk.
I didn’t have to search for a topic for long. My mother had come to town preloaded with something she was itching to tackle.
“Why didn’t you bring a date to our dinner?” she inquired.
For a second, I could only stare at her. This felt out of left field. “It’s news to me that a date is a requirement for a dinner with my parents. I thought it was enough that I wore a tie.”
My mother’s eyes narrowed. She was not in a joking mood. “Pierce.”
Shoot me now.
“Are you seeing anyone?” she pressed, her tone taking on an edge.
“Not at the moment.”
“Why?”
I glanced over at my father, but he was suddenly very interested in his water goblet.Traitor. My dad was very much of the “Let the boys take care of themselves” mindset. My mom needed to meddle. It was her job. Her purpose. Herraison d’être. She loved to micromanage our lives. Which was probably why I’d been more than happy to move to Cincinnati and my brother had jumped at the chance to move to New York.
“I don’t understand. What do you mean, ‘why’? I’m not seeing anyone because I haven’t met anyone that I would be interested in dating. Work has kept me busy, and I’ve been hanging out with my friends.”
“Friendswho have all started dating someone seriously in the past year.”
My eyes fell shut, and I briefly cursed the person who’d decided it had been wise to teach my mother all about social media.
“Yes, Sebastian and Declan are in serious relationships.”
“So is Rome,” she pointed out. “Sebastian posted an adorable picture of them together at Declan’s birthday party. It’s so nice to see Rome so happy and settled. He’s always been too restless.”
My curses shifted to Sebastian’s head.
“Yes, I was there. I’ve met Liam. He’s very nice.”
“But what about you?” she continued.
“Mom, I’m fine. I’m happy. My life is good.” I fought the urge to tug at my suddenly too-tight collar.Is it hot in here? When the hell did it get so hot?
This dinner was spiraling fast. Dad had kicked it off by commenting on how tired I looked, Mom had segued into the cuteness of my nephews, and was now moving in for the kill with demands that I dive into a serious relationship.
“Yes, but you’re notmarried,” she stressed, as if my life couldn’t possibly be good while I’m single. “Not even seeing someone seriously. I can’t remember the last time you told me you were dating someone.”
“Mom—”
“Don’tMomme. Pierce Sutton, you are going to be thirty-five this year. Don’t you think it’s time that you settled down? You have always said that you wanted to get married and have kids. Youryoungerbrother has been married forsevenyears now. And that marriage law…what was it?” She waved a hand at my father, urging him to fill in the blank.
