Page 45 of Faking It Right
Jacinta chuckled at my expression. “I’m teasing. Mostly. I’d settle for grandkitties if human kids aren’t in the cards.” She gave my cheek an affectionate pat. “But I want you to know how happy I am that you’re together. I feel like I’ve been blessed with a second son.”
Her sincerity clogged my throat, making it impossible to speak. My own mother had never been so warm or accepting. She’d treated my sexuality like an inconvenience best not discussed in polite company. But Jacinta embraced me wholeheartedly and celebrated my relationship with her son.
I lowered my head. “Thank you for giving me a second home.”
Before she could respond, Ryker strolled in, looking adorably disheveled, with a smudge of grease on his cheek and his hair sticking up at odd angles.
“Mission accomplished,” he announced. “Dad’s dazzling the neighbors with his handyman skills now.”
“Even though you’re the one who actually fixed it,” Jacinta teased. “Nice to know some things never change.”
He moved closer to the newly arranged photo wall. “Wow, you two have been busy.”
“Your mother’s been regaling me with tales from your childhood,” I said. “Particularly your naked superhero phase.”
Ryker’s eyes widened in horrified betrayal. “Mom! You didn’t!”
“I most certainly did,” Jacinta replied, not looking the least bit repentant. “And I promised to show him the albums later.”
“Not if I burn them first,” Ryker muttered.
I gave in to my irresistible urge to wipe the grease smudge from his cheek. “Too late. I’ve already seen the evidence. I can’t wait to hear more about your naked superpowers.”
He caught my hand, holding it against his face for a moment longer than necessary. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Of course I am,” I agreed, leaning in for a quick kiss that was meant to be a playful part of our act, but it lit a fire in both of us.
Jacinta watched with a mother’s knowing smile. “You two are adorable. Now, who wants lemonade? I made it fresh this morning.”
As she poured the drinks, Ryker whispered in my ear, “How bad were the embarrassing stories?”
“It’s safe to say I have enough material to roast you for the next decade.”
He groaned dramatically. “Great.”
“Don’t worry,” I murmured, letting my hand rest on the small of his back. “I think it’s adorable you believed clothing restricted your superpowers.”
“I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”
“Not a chance, snookums.”
Chapter Eleven
RYKER
The actionthriller my dad had picked for family movie night might as well have been a documentary on watching paint dry. The action hero could have belted out an aria while juggling flaming swords, and I wouldn’t have noticed, because my attention span had defected to Harley’s side with more loyalty than a golden retriever.
Harley lounged next to me on the couch, his body radiating warmth. He’d settled in with the casual confidence of a cat claiming a sunbeam, one arm draped along the back of the couch behind my shoulders, his leg brushing against me. I was hyperaware of every subtle shift.
“Pass the popcorn, biscuit.” Mom patted my knee, making me jump. “Have mercy on your mother’s tiny T-Rex arms.”
I blinked, realizing I’d been staring at Harley’s profile for who knows how long. “Right. Sorry.” I grabbed the bowl from the coffee table and handed it to her. Her smile was so knowing it could have predicted next week’s lottery numbers.
Harley’s hand dropped to my thigh, giving it a light squeeze. “You okay, snookums? You seem a million miles away.”
The pet name transformed my stomach into tennis shoes banging around a washing machine on spin cycle. His thumb traced small circles on my jeans, and I nearly choked on air like it had suddenly turned into solid concrete.
“I’m fine,” I muttered, forcing my gaze back to the screen. Some guy was dangling from a helicopter. Great. Totally normal. Meanwhile, Harley’s fingers remained on my thigh, a warm weight that consumed all my mental bandwidth.
