Page 76 of Burn for You (Slow Burn 1)
My lip chewing must have been audible, because Jackson prompted, “Spit it out, Bianca.”
“And the wedding itself? When will that happen?”
“As soon as you meet my parents. Ideally we’ll go this weekend, but if you need to arrange—”
“Wait. Meet your parents? Go?”
His voice turned dark. “We need to make a quick trip to Kentucky before we get married.”
The realization of what he meant made me suck in a horrified breath. “Oh Lord. Your parents have to approve me, don’t they?”
His silence was my answer. I hollered, “I have to audition for the role of your fake wife?”
“It’s just a formality. They’re going to love you.”
I groaned and covered my eyes with my hand. I could picture it now: Jackson pulling up to his boyhood home—in my mind it looked like the plantation Tara from Gone With the Wind—and introducing me to his rich, conservative, and very white parents.
His mother would get a pinched look. His father would turn purple with anger. All the servants who’d lined up to greet us like they did on Downton Abbey would titter behind their hands at Jackson’s audacity for bringing home a colored girl.
Mercy! Is that his maid?
“I know you’re thinking again because I can smell something burning,” said Jackson drily.
Think of Mama. Think of Mama. Think of Mama.
“I can have Eeny cover for me for a few days,” I said weakly. She’d have to cover for me forever after I died of humiliation when Jackson’s parents had their dogs chase us off the plantation, anyway; might as well get her up to speed.
“Good. We’ll leave Friday, then. When can I meet your mother?”
Feeling like I was in a dream, I said, “I’ll find out.”
DAVINA’S FAMOUS CREOLE JAMBALAYA
Makes 8 servings
½ pound raw bacon, diced
½ pound fresh pork sausage, casings removed
½ pound andouille sausage, sliced
3 tablespoons butter
4 boneless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch cubes
1 large yellow onion, diced
1 green bell pepper, diced
3 celery ribs, diced
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 cups long-grain white rice
1 teaspoon dried thyme
2 bay leaves
