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“Over there,” Mama says, and I follow her nod to find Lane and Joy on the other side of the dance floor.

It doesn’t surprise me that my mom knows where my mind was. She knows all of her children better than we know ourselves and we gave up trying to prove that theory wrong years ago. Lane and Joy look happy, and something settles in me. But where’s Doug? Did he leave? A nervous flutter settles in my stomach, but then the crowd shifts and I see him, laughing as he talks to a woman I vaguely recognize as one of my parents’ friends.

“They’re all fine,” Mama says, pulling my attention back to her. “But are you?”

My answering smile is easy. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?” Her brow creases with concern. “And before you go telling me that I’m too old to understand, I understand plenty. Your generation didn’t invent the concept of polygamy.”

I press my lips together to hide my smile. “I would never tell you that you were too old, Mama. You raised me better than that.”

“Too right, I did.” She smiles up at me and I beam back at her.

“Honestly though, Mama,” I say, glancing back over at where Lane is kissing Joy as they sway in time to the music. “I’ve never been so happy. It all just feels so . . . right. You know?”

She nods, her grip tightening on my shoulder. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Are you going to introduce me to them, or will it be too much?”

A flutter of nerves tickles my gut. I warned my parents that I was coming with three dates and, although they were surprised at first, they took it quite well. I suppose the shock was lessened having met Cameron’s brother’s partners at Avena’s wedding.

As for whether I can handle them meeting my parents . . .

“May I cut in?”

I blink in surprise to find Lane standing beside us, a nervous grin on his face. It takes me a second to realize that the hand he’s extending isn’t to me, but my mom.

“As long as Aldo doesn’t mind,” she says, looking beyond thrilled at the situation.

Before I can respond, Lane nods to something behind us with a grin. “Well, your dad stole my partner, so it’s only fair I steal yours.”

My mouth falls open as I turn to find my dad spinning Joy around on the other side of the dance floor, both of them wearing huge grins. What the actual hell is happening?

“Sure,” I mutter.

My mom takes Lane’s hand, and they step away, leaving me standing there with my mouth open. When a hand lands on my shoulder, I know, even before his rumbling tones sound in my ear, that it’s Doug.

“How nervous are you right now on a scale of one to ten?”

I turn and smile, my hands automatically going to smooth down the broad expanse of his chest. “Not as nervous as I’d be if you were dancing with them.”

“Rude.” Doug’s eyebrows shoot up. “I’ll have you know I’m excellent at winning over parents.”

Shaking my head with a grin, I look back at the dance floor. Both my parents are chatting easily with Lane and Joy, and they look happy enough. But the thing is, I know my parents. They are the sweetest people alive, but they’re also ruthless businesspeople who will destroy anyone who hurts their family. I know that sounds a bit mafia-esque but it’s true. My mom can sniff out a lie from a mile away, but she’ll smile at you the whole time. Fuck knows I’ve been on the receiving end of that treatment when I thought I was clever enough to sneak in past curfew.

“Dance with me,” Doug says, sliding his hand down to mine.

Lacing our fingers together I let him lead me back out onto the floor and when he pulls me against him, I rest my head against his shoulder and exhale.

“You’re out, right?” Doug murmurs against my ear.

I lean back a little, looking up at his stormy gray eyes. “What do you mean?”

He looks meaningfully at the people dancing around us. “Like, does your family know you’re queer? Because I really want to kiss you, but I don’t want your grandma or great uncle having a heart attack or something.”

My lips quirk into a smile. “My immediate family knows. I’m not sure whether my wider family does, but I honestly don’t care.”

Doug grins down at me. “So, I can kiss you?”

My heart throbs and I swallow, shaking my head. “Doug . . . I want you to, but . . .”

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