Page 105 of It's Not PMS, It's You
“Really. In fact, I may start calling you that now . . .Nicky.” She smiled.
Her voice was sultry, the way she said my name that way.
And that smile . . .
Breathtaking.
My heart beat faster.
We locked gazes for a moment.
Holy crap, something’s happening between us right now at this very moment.
I had the sudden urge to kiss her.
That wasn’t going to happen.
There was no way she could have the same urge.
And yet . . . why was she staring at my lips?
Maybe I had just imagined it.
“You look like you want to say something,” Ruth said.
“Me?” I replied, trying to get that thought of my lips pressed to her lips out of my head. “No. Nothing.” I gestured back to the canopies and tables and my family already gathering around the food and nibbling. “We should probably get over there. I can make some introductions. My mom is waiting impatiently.”
“We’d better go then.”
“I want to apologize ahead of time for what you are about to endure.”
Ruth laughed. “I can handle your family.”
There was that confidence that I loved.
Loved?
Where the heck had that come from?
We walked toward my relatives, all of them hovering around in a bunch, watching us approach, no doubt wondering who the lovely lady was by my side.
They were ready to pounce on her like vultures. They had so much love and affection to give. That was just the way my family was. They loved everyone. We had no black sheep. We saw the best in people and welcomed them with open arms.
Still, I couldn’t help wondering if Ruth would be overwhelmed or a little uncomfortable by it.
My mom shook her finger at me. “It’s about time, Nicky.”
Ruth held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Ruth.”
My mom pointed at Ruth’s hand. “You can put that thing away. We’re huggers in this family.”
She smiled. “That’s quite all right with me. I am, too.”
She was? What happened to my hug? I got robbed.
“I’m Jan, Nicky’s mom.” My mom extended her arms around Ruth and pulled her in for an embrace like she’d known her forever. Maybe she was getting carried away because Ruth dropped the bag she was carrying.
That’s my mom. She loves everyone.
