Page 128 of Attached At Heart
I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying the obvious response.
“My most sincere apologies,” I said instead, plastering a smile on my face that she saw right through.
“Don’t start with your attitude.” My mom glanced at Blake, her lips curving. “Can you believe the attitude on this one?”
“I’m not going to lie, Mrs. Delacroix,” Blake started, looking at me with quiet admiration in his gaze, warming me from the inside out. “I’m a big fan of Delaney’s attitude. But I would never say she’s known for it. In fact, between the two of us, I think I might have the bigger one.”
“Really?” My mom looked genuinely shocked at that. She smoothed the pencil skirt that was plastered to her slender frame. “Huh. For a moment there, I mistook you for a gentleman, Mr. London.”
“An easy mistake,” Blake said with a wink in my direction. I nearly melted into a puddle in my parents’ foyer. “Although I did wait over a decade before making a move on your daughter. So I like to think there’s hope for me to become a gentleman yet.”
“And it’sDr.London, Mom,” I corrected, to which my mom sent me a withering look that affected me very little. She pursed her lips in thought, but I could tell she wasn’t quite surewhatto think. Her gaze traveled up and down Blake, and I knew even she couldn’t deny just howperfecthe was.
But then, of course, she sniffed and said, “Gentlemen are not made; they are bred,” before spinning on her heel and leading us into the house, where we ran into my dad and Bryan in the living room. The space looked nothing like I remembered, which didn’t surprise me. She always kept an interior designer on hand to update the house’s finishes as styles came and went over the years. God forbid she ever be caught entertaining people in a home that boasted out-of-date design.
Once again, Blake took the initiative in greeting my dad, who couldn’t look less interested in meeting my husband for the second time. He also didn’t make any indication that he realized hehadmet Blake before, but that didn’t surprise me. My dad was simply being the same as he always was, except his hair had grown grayer and his eyebrows bushier, and I felt guilty again about time passing and being absent. Especially when his bright blue eyes lit up a bit at seeing me. I smiled at him, walking straight into his arms when he opened them for a hug.
I wished I had a stronger backbone, more will to resist when my parents offered the tiniest shred of emotion toward me. Instead, I snatched it up and then felt like a fool later.
“Look who’s been living on the East Coast for months and finally decided to take the trip down to see us,” my dad said, but he was grinning as he gave me a tight squeeze.
Blake side-eyed me, and I bit the inside of my cheek. I’d told him I’d moved to Boston to be close to family, so I was sure that my lack of visits might come as a surprise to him, even knowing what he did about my relationship with them. I’d had dinner once with Bryan and his girlfriend, but beyond that, I’d kept my distance. And I could blame that on how busy it was finding an apartment, and starting a new job, and then marrying Blake. But maybe coming home was a little more painful than I cared to admit.
And perhaps there’d been another reason I’d moved to Boston.
One I hadn’t totally admitted to Blake.
Or even myself.
“Well, a new job, a wedding, and a honeymoon have kept me pretty occupied, Dad.”
My dad nodded. “Bry showed us the picture of the plane.” He switched his attention to Blake. “Where’d ya take her?”
“To the Netherlands,” Blake answered. “Your daughter loves tulips, so it felt only fitting.”
“Does she?” He looked back to me, his expression a little funny. Like he was realizing for the first time how much he didn’t know about me.
“Is it time for dinner yet?” Bryan asked, keeping us all on track. I laughed, and my mom actually smiled because if she did have a soft spot, it was for her son. Not for me, never for me. But I’d gladly give up that position for Bryan.
“Yes.” She clasped her hands together. “Why don’t we migrate to the dining room?”
I gave a little thumbs-up to Bryan for helping to move this evening along before Blake placed a hand on my back and led me to the dining room table after my parents, as though he’d grown up here and not me. The table was decorated lavishly, even for what I was used to growing up, and I wondered who my mom was trying to impress or what point she was trying to make. Because absolutely nothing she did was ever accidental.
My parents served steak for dinner, and Bryan proudly provided a side of mashed potatoes and grilled asparagus, which were both things he’d learned to make recently in one of his independent-living courses. Everything tasted delicious, and it filled me with pride to see Bryan learning skills that would help him live on his own and chase his dreams one day.
The mood at dinner surprised me, staying light and conversational until almost everyone was done eating. Or until Bryan had finished eating and excused himself. And that was when it took a turn.
“So, Dr. London.” My mom cleared her throat, and I knew that whatever came next was not going to be fun. “I know you and Delaney have been friends for many years.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Blake nodded. “And please, call me Blake.”
My mom gave a tight-lipped smile. “Tell me, why have you now decided to take an interest in my daughter? I don’t suppose it has anything to do with a certain inheritance that might be awarded to Delaney in the instance that she marries, does it?”
“No, Mrs. Delacroix,” Blake chuckled, sounding alarmingly at ease with that lie. I never imagined Blake would be so effortless at delivering outright lies, but here we were. “You’ve got it wrong. I haven’t just taken an interest in Delaney. I’ve been interested. For a long,longtime.”
His eyes met mine, and my heart jumped into my throat. We sat across the table from each other, which I didn’t like. I’d much prefer to have him next to me so I could, I don’t know, touch him or something. I just had this feeling that if I could reach out and grab his hand right now, everything would be better. I needed something to ground me in reality. Like the squeeze of his fingers to let me know I should play along. To remind me that we were both on the inside of a little joke, and everyone else was on the outside.
He said he’d convince my parents that this elopement wasn’t actually sudden or fake. That our marriage had been years in the making. I was sure that was what he was doing.
