by Bex Dane
I should've asked Cutter if he's ever brought a girl to Sunday night dinner before because they're all acting like he's brought home an extinct baby panda or something.
No big deal, my ass. Based on the vibes from his family, it's a huge deal.
Remy and Blaine wave hello from a couch in front of a TV. I don't notice any other girlfriends or boyfriends here. None of these gorgeous people brought a date tonight? Am I the only one?
As we're greeting Foster, he gleams with pride when his little boy runs and flips over the back of the couch, landing on his head between Remy and Blaine.
I laugh, but an undercurrent of grief swallows me and dampens all the joy this family is giving me. Cutter's loving family is happy to see him. They care about him. The children here are growing up knowing they're loved.
And I'm an intruder.
I've never had anything remotely close to this.
I don't even know how to absorb it.
They're welcoming me, but I'm not in the loop.
I spend holidays alone or with my roommates. I normally dread Sundays. They symbolize the end of weekend activities and remind me how lonely I am before starting work on Monday.
Foster leaves us, and Cutter pulls my chest to his front. "What's up?"
He must have picked up on my darkening thoughts. It's like we're in tune now and he can hear my body and I can hear his. "It's overwhelming," I say.
"Yeah. A lot of people."
"They love you."
He nods and grins.
"You love them."
"Yeah." He looks around the room at his family, and I can see they mean the world to him.
Tears threaten my eyes and I fight it back. Crying is stupid. I can't ruin their Sunday dinner because I'm feeling sorry for myself. I'm happy Cutter has this. I'm happy for him, but sad for me. Sad that my mom kicked me out and my aunts rejected me. Sad my mom will never approve of the life I choose to live. The only person who loved me unconditionally was my dad and he died.
"I miss my dad."
"Yeah." He sounds understanding. "I get it. I felt the same way in the beginning. For years. Once I saw what love could be, I was sad I didn't have it earlier."
"Yeah."
"We can talk about it more later. Privately. But I get it. You'll get used to it."
I nod but a tear slips out.
He leans down to whisper in my ear, "This is your first family dinner. It's not your last."
Oh for goodness sake. I sniffle to keep snot from running down my nose.
He hugs me and pulls my face to his chest. He gets me. I get him. I absorb the hug and once he releases me, I look up at him. "I'm so happy Dayton was such a jerk, or I might not have met you."
His lips turn down then bend into an ironic smile. He presses a soft kiss to my lips. "Me too."
We spin around and the room has grown silent. The eyes that were on us quickly turn away.
Oh yeah. Totally a big deal.
Chapter 18 Huge Deal
Sutton taps Cutter on the shoulder to get his attention. Platters and containers of food fill the center of the extra-long weathered farmhouse table. The guys who were watching football come to the table last. I end up sitting next to some teenagers I hadn't met before. Cutter introduces them as Sequoia and Harley. I met Marshawn last time after the fight. Once everyone is settled, they start scooping onto their plates and passing platters.
"Yo, Cut. No more oil drums of potato salad," Mace says to Cutter as he holds the huge tub high above the table for everyone to see.
"Yo, shut up, asswipe. It's good," Cutter snaps back.
"You buy too much. Have we ever eaten this whole thing? Mom, how many pounds of potato salad have you thrown away over the years?" he asks Mila.
"Truck loads." She laughs.
"See?"
"It's a potluck. I brought something. What did you bring?" Cutter shoots back.
"Pie," Mace responds like pie is the greatest most creative thing to bring to a potluck.
"Pie? What kind?"
"Cherry pie." He grins.
"The giant cherry pie from Costco? We throw that shit away too. Right, Mom?" Cutter asks Mila.
"Usually." She shrugs.
Mace flings a wad of potato salad at Cutter. Bright yellow mush hits his chest and rolls down to his lap.
Cutter glares at him as he stands up. He walks to the dessert table in the corner and sticks his hand deep into the gooey cherry pie. Mace drives his whole hand into the tub of potato salad like he's loading up a catapult.
They stare each other down like two outlaws about to duke it out in a duel.
"Stop, you guys," Sutton says with an annoyed tone like this isn't the first food fight to happen at a Sunday dinner.
Cutter strikes first, throwing bright red cherry pie into Mace's chest. The corner of Mace's mouth turns down as he looks at the mess on his shirt.
Mace flicks the bright yellow potato salad into Cutter's face. It drips off his eye. They step toward each other, but Foster stands up and holds a hand out between them. His brow is furrowed, but he's not angry. He's seen this before too.
"Don't complain about having too much." Foster seems too young to command these guys with a fatherly tone, but it shuts them both up. They grin at each other as they walk to the kitchen to wash up.
Remy pulls a tray from Blaine's hands. "Pass to the left."
Blaine pulls it back. "Faster if we go both ways."
"We always fucking pass to the left. Keeps shit from getting crossed. Don't change it up."
"Language," Mila interjects. Her two little ones are sitting next to her soaking this all in. They don't look surprised either. I'm witnessing a Sunday night ritual at the Twists.
"That's the rules as I was told," Marshawn chimes in.
Mace and Cutter walk back in smiling with wet stains on their shirts.
The younger kids are already eating even though they haven't received all the platters yet. It's not gourmet food, and there's no theme. There's a pizza box and Chinese food cartons being passed around. A platter of rolled beef with gravy smells delicious and so do the homemade mashed potatoes. It's all comfort food. Someone brought a huge salad bowl filled with fresh veggies and crisp leafy lettuce, so there's some healthy food too. It's an eclectic dinner, just like this family.
As soon as everyone has their plates loaded and digs in, the table grows quiet. Apparently there's no prayer or bon appetite preamble required.
Out of nowhere, Cutter, who had been quietly scooping food into his mouth, speaks up. "Cass is gonna start training with us."
I gulp down the sip of wine I had just taken.
"She's off work for a week so she's staying with me," he continues calmly like he didn't just drop a bomb on Sunday dinner.
I'm afraid to look up because I know when I do, I'll see them all staring at me.
Yep. There's at least fourteen pairs of eyes on me. All of them wide with shock. Totally a big deal. I'm causing huge drama in the Twist house, and I don't want to. Nope. Not me. Not causing any trouble for these nice people.
"I don't have to stay here. I have an apartment in Palms," I say. I don't want them to think Cutter is taking me in off the streets. Although most of these kids came from the streets, so I'm sure they wouldn't judge me if I did.
"Palms?" Blaine asks and tilts his head.
Oh gosh, does this whole family hate Palms? It's just a neighborhood by Los Angeles. It's not meant to be a controversial place to live.
"I got a friend who lives in Palms," he says, which is not at all what I was expecting. "You ever heard of Sushi Central?"
"Sushi Central rocks." That seems to break the ice of Cutter's announcement because their frozen stares snap away from me and back to their food. The smaller conversations start up again, and we are no longer the center of attention.
Cutter smiles and tilts his chin toward me. "You're in."
Is that all it took? Cutter saying I'm taking classes and staying with him? I guess t
hey trust him because no one brought it up after that, and the invisible wall I had constructed in my head that separated me from them vanished.
After dinner and spending time with Marshawn and Sutton, we decide to head back to Cutter's cabin. I have to ask him what's on my mind. "Have you ever brought a girl to Sunday dinner before?"
"Nope. You're the first." He squeezes my hand.
"And the other brothers, and your sisters, do they bring dates home for dinner?"
"Not usually." He shrugs but it's not fair because he lied.
"You told me it was no big deal."
"It's not." He's still not getting me.
"They were shocked." I point down the hill back to Mila and Foster's cabin.
"Yeah, but that doesn't make it a big deal. In this family, you accept new people fast if someone vouches for them. They checked you out, saw I was serious, and accepted it. They're all happy as shit for me."
They are happy as shit for him? "How do you know?"
"They told me."
"I didn't hear that."
"They were discreet."
"Well, that's good." I'm glad his family supports him and trusts his judgment.
"Cutter!" I turn to see Foster and Mace following behind us, jogging to catch up.
Cutter stops and waits for them. "Can we talk later, guys? I'm taking Cass back to my cabin."
"Can't wait," Foster says.
"Where do you stand with Morganstein?" Mace asks.
The mention of Arthur makes my skin crawl.
"My business," Cutter replies as he pulls out a pack of smokes.
"He drugged her." Foster doesn't motion toward me, but we all know he's talking about me.
"If you go after him, we're in," Mace says.
My heart clenches. These guys have a strict code of honor, and they all keep it.
"Mila okay with that?" Cutter asks Foster.
I can imagine Mila not wanting Foster to go off chasing down the demons in each of their kids' lives, and I can totally see Foster wanting to do it.
"I'll make her okay with it," he replies.
Cutter shakes his head and lights up a cigarette. He blows the smoke into the air above our heads.
"We're in. Both of us," Mace says.
"All of us," Foster adds, "if you need it. Don't take this on alone."
Cutter focuses on his boots and when he looks up, his eyes are glossy. "I'll think on it." His voice rasps and he gives them a curt nod. "Appreciate it."
He grips Foster in a tight hug with a clap on the shoulder that smacks loudly in the night air. Mace looks away until it's his turn. Mace gets a similar embrace and once again the love they have for each other has helped Cutter. He knows no matter what happens, he's not alone.
Foster embraces me too, and I can't deny the pure honesty and emotion in it. He's saying he cares about me. I'm not reading into it. I can feel it. He's tall and I have to arch my back, but he smells good and there's integrity in his frame, but it's not a relaxed hug. It's strong and full of tension too.
Mace tilts his chin up at me and turns away. Veins pop in his arms as he clenches his fists. His easygoing smile has been replaced with a tight jaw and dark eyes.
Cutter's arm is stiff when he wraps it over my shoulders and walks me away from them. We must look like Rick and company strategizing for battle on The Walking Dead.
Oy vey.
Dinner with the Twists.
Definitely a big deal.
Yep.
Huge freaking deal.
Chapter 19 Invite
Cutter
"I want to fight you," she says as she does some bobbing on her toes in the morning. She's wearing my tee and nothing else except tape on her knuckles. Cute and sexy.
"Not ready yet." I give her the same answer I gave every time she asked to fight me this week.
"I've beat the hell outta that bag."
She did and now she has blisters. "Let your knuckles heal. You need calluses."
She gives me the lower-lip-out pout that is absolutely entertaining, but she knows I'm right. You have to crawl before you can run, and she's not ready for sparring yet.
I walk over to her and tug her up against me with my arm around her waist, which pulls the T-shirt up over her bare ass. She jabs my chest like an angry kitten. She's still a total newbie. No control and no idea how one well-placed kick would leave her flat on the floor. Even a kid with a higher belt could hurt her if she didn't block properly. I'll put her up against Henry next time and let him take her down a notch.
My dick's getting hard from pulling her close and her warm body rubbing against me, but we don't have time to go another round. "It's gonna be a long week without you." I've grown accustomed to having her in my bed, watching her come, working out with her, sharing meals, laughing, going for walks in the forest. Cass is fun to be around and we're made for each other in the bedroom. Yeah, this is gonna suck.
"There's no way you could get someone to cover your classes this week?" She's asking me to come down to LA and stay in her place while she works.
Believe me. I considered it. "I could, but what am I gonna do in LA sitting on your couch waiting for you to get home from work?"
She laughs because she knows the truth from hanging out with me for a week. I'm nonstop action. There's no sitting around. It's all fighting, training, and checking in with my peeps. I'd be stir crazy the minute she left for work.
"Even when I get home I have to edit some videos. I'm falling behind."
I bend down to press my lips to her ear. "You regretting your mountain vacation?"
She shivers and smiles. "Not one second of it. This has been the best week of my life. I love your family. I love what you give me."
She's also good at telling me what she's thinking and feeling so communication has been good. We haven't had any disagreements this week, apart from her ribbing me for smoking, which is something I need anyway.
"Don't go back to smoking so much when I'm gone." She jabs at my sternum. I've cut way back for her. I got other things to do with my mouth now.
"You call me and ream my ass on the phone."
"Okay." She takes a long, savoring breath and stares into my eyes. Never get tired of looking at her smile.
"Want you to think about ways you can move your business up here."
Her eyes blow wide and her lips part, but she can't be surprised I want her to move in with me. She knows I won't live in her place in Palms and if we keep going the way we have, which is turbo speed toward I love you, I'd like her to find a way to move up here with my family.
"Um, wow. Well, there's not a lot of shows produced in the forest."
That's the problem. I don't want to hold her back from her career and the big makeup gigs are gonna be in LA. "I'm just saying think outside the box." She has to come up with a solution for this because if I do it for her, she won't own it as her own.
She worries her bottom lip with her teeth. "I could produce my videos from here. That's where most of my income comes from. Would you let me film your family?"
"You can film me. You'd have to ask the rest, but if you're with me, money won't be a problem anymore. I make a good income from teaching classes and my parents inherited a ton of money when their parents died." I hadn't told her about the money before because I didn't want to brag, but if it's a factor in her decision, I want to remove it.
"Okay. I'll think about it. Maybe we can do some Bigfoot investigations. Have you ever seen anything strange in the lake?" She winks at me.
"Possibly." No. But I'm willing to lie to get her up here more.
"Ooh, this could be good." She touches her chin with her index finger and smiles.
I give her a kiss and pat her ass. God, my hand feels good on her ass. It's been planted there for days. The truth is this woman has worked her way under my skin. She's enchanted me in a way that the drive to touch her, caress her, own her, burns so strong I can't snuff it out. It's her eyes, her hair, her style, her quirks, her ope
nness to me and others, her vulnerability, her flaws. All of it combines in a mystical combination in a way that it feeds a hunger in me I've denied for a long time. My dad was right. Time for me to stop living in hate and let something good into my heart. If it makes you happy, take it and make it yours.
I'm not gonna lay all this on her now. It's all in the invitation for her to move up here. "You think on it. You get an idea, I'll support you."
"Kay." Oh yeah, from that light in her eyes, she gets it.
"Let's go."
On the way to my truck, she stops to say goodbye to Sutton and Mila with big hugs like she's never going to see them again.
"You're coming back here, ya know," I say to her as we get in my truck.
"Anything could happen." She shrugs.
I wrap my hand around her neck, and she turns to look at me. "Nothing bad is gonna happen. You're coming back here in eight days." I'll make damn sure of it.
"All right, Cutter. I'm coming back," she says real sweet.
"That's better."
***
On the ride home, she checks her phone and her eyes narrow. She clicks on something, and she's squinting reading the screen for a long time.
"Something up?"
"No. Nothing. Nothing." She tucks the phone away quickly.
Whatever. I'm not bothering her about her private messages.
Back in LA, we get her stuff settled in her apartment and she presses her boobs up against me, palms flat on my chest. "Stay tonight?"
Extremely tempting to spend more time with her. "I'd have to get up at like four in the morning to be back up the mountain in time for my first class."
She nods and looks down. "I have an early call tomorrow too, but I don't want to say goodbye."
"I'll keep you up all night, and you'll be tired for your first day tomorrow."
"You'll be a zombie teaching your class."
I lean down to kiss her goodbye. It's good. Like always, warm, hot and laced with promises. She opens for me and I'm a goner. There's no way I'm making it home tonight. I grunt and walk her backward to her bed. "I'll get up at four in the morning for you."
She giggles. "I'll be tired on my first day for you."
"Good."
She moans and we're rolling around on her bed trying to get our clothes off as fast as we can.