Page 37 of Cold Feet
"Nonsense! It's not every day my only daughter brings home her fiancé. Now come along, I want to show you what I've done with the place."
As we followed my mother inside, I caught Zayne shooting Cam a warning glance that said more clearly than words: Remember our agreement. PG only.
The familiar scents of the beach house – salt air, sunscreen, and my mother's perpetual pot of seafood gumbo – washed over me as we stepped inside. The main living area was my favorite room in the house: weathered hardwood floors, overstuffed furniture in shades of blue and white, and walls adorned with family photos and beachy art. Through the large windows, I could see the afternoon sun casting golden light across the deck and the sugar-white sand beyond.
"Everyone else will be here tomorrow," my mother explained as she led us toward the staircase. "Drake and Serena are driving down from the Tampa airport, and the cousins won't arrive until Saturday morning."
"Wait, Drake and Serena?" I stopped, surprised. "They're coming together?"
My brother Drake had dated Serena Ruiz on and off throughout high school and college, but their relationship had ended definitively (or so I thought) when he was drafted by San Jose and she took a job in Miami.
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" My mother's attempt at innocence was painfully transparent. "They reconnected at Christmas. I always knew they'd find their way back to each other."
Her meaningful glance between Cam and me wasn't subtle.Great. Now she was mentally planning adoublewedding.
"You've got that 'my mother is matchmaking again' look," Cam murmured close to my ear as we ascended the stairs.
"How could you possibly know that look?" I whispered back.
"I've been studying your expressions for three years," he replied, his breath warm against my skin. "I know all your looks."
Something fluttered in my chest at his words, a sensation I promptly squashed. This was exactly the kind of emotional quicksand I needed to avoid.
"And here we are!" My mother announced, throwing open a door at the end of the upstairs hallway with a flourish worthy of an HGTV host. "Your old room, though I think you'll find it's had quite the transformation."
Transformation was an understatement.
My childhood bedroom, once a shrine of hockey memorabilia, dance trophies, and boy bands, had been completely reimagined as what could only be described as a honeymoon suite. Gone was the sleepover-ready trundle bed and mismatched furniture of my youth, replaced by a king-sized four-poster draped with gauzy white fabric. The walls had been painted a soft, oceanic blue, and the windows now featured billowing curtains that caught the sea breeze. A plush white rug covered much of the hardwood floor, and there were – I counted in mounting horror – no fewer than seventeen scented candles strategically placed around the room.
"Mom," I managed through a suddenly dry throat. "What did you do?"
"Just a little updating," she replied, beaming with pride. "I've been wanting to redo this room for ages, and when you told us about your engagement, I thought, what better time?"
I couldn't look at Cam. I didn't dare. The thought of sharing that massive bed with him for the next three nights made my pulse race in a way that had nothing to do with panic and everything to do with the way he'd looked at me outside my hotel room door in Vegas.
"It's beautiful, Mrs. Decker," Cam said, his voice remarkably steady. "You have a real eye for design."
My mother practically glowed under his praise. "Call me Diana, please. And you haven't even seen the best part."
She crossed to a door I hadn't noticed and opened it to reveal an entirely new en-suite bathroom complete with a claw-foot tub large enough for two and a shower with far too many jets.
"We had this added last year," she explained. "Originally it was going to be a reading nook, but I convinced your father another full bathroom made more sense. And now I'm so glad we did! Much more privacy for you two lovebirds."
I was going to die. Right here, right now, of acute embarrassment.
"It's perfect," Cam assured her, placing a hand at the small of my back in what appeared to be a gesture of affection but felt more like he was physically holding me from bolting out the door. "Thank you for going to so much trouble."
"No trouble at all for my future son-in-law," my mother replied warmly. "Now, I'll let you two get settled. Dinner's at seven, but come down whenever you're ready for drinks on the deck. Your father's making his famous mojitos."
"Thanks mom."
With a conspiratorial wink that made me want to sink through the floor, she left, closing the door behind her.
The moment her footsteps faded, I collapsed face-first onto the bed with a groan.
"Kill me now."
"Aw, it's not that bad," Cam said, though I could hear the amusement in his voice.
