by Elise Faber
It was amazing how quickly people could get dressed when they were motivated.
Thankfully, the restaurant wasn’t far from his apartment, and they managed to sneak into the table just as appetizers were being served.
He pilfered some chips from his brother’s plate and hadn’t bothered perusing the menu. Instead, he ordered what Heidi did when the server came around to get their meals put in.
Then he stole some more chips from Jaime.
“Hey!”
“Little brother perks,” he said chipperly.
Jaime sighed but slid the nachos a little closer. “You’re lucky this plate is huge.”
“Is that what you said to get Kate to marry you?” he deadpanned.
Heidi giggled, attempting to cover said giggle with her napkin, then gave in, laughing loud enough for everyone at the table to look at her.
“Don’t mind me,” she said, waving a hand in front of her face, still laughing.
And fuck if that noise didn’t fill him up, didn’t make him feel like the biggest, baddest motherfucker on the planet. He should be swaggering around this restaurant, showing off his prowess—
Or maybe that should have happened after the last tequila night. Or maybe the Viking one. Or last night. Or—
Suffice to say, he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of making love to this woman who’d so easily captured his heart.
“Stop smirking.” Jaime socked him in the arm.
Hard.
“Ouch,” he muttered, rubbing the injured limb. “What would Mom say?”
Jaime snagged his plate back, smacking Brad’s hand when he went to take another chip. “Probably that you deserved it.”
He shrugged since that was probably true.
“Speaking of Mom,” Jaime said, still guarding his nachos. “They’re driving up early. They’ll actually be here tomorrow and want to do a family dinner with Kate’s family.” His eyes flicked past Brad, alighting on Heidi. “That includes you, too,” he said, “just in case you’d try to get out of the power of the Moms.”
Brad shuddered. His mom and Kate’s mom together were a formidable force.
In contrast, Heidi smiled. “I love the Moms.”
He groaned. “Pretty soon your mom will join the force, and then there will be three Moms.”
“Heaven help us,” Jaime said.
“My mom would be a scary thought.”
He glanced at her, something in the undercurrent of her tone making alarm bells blare. “Why?”
Her eyes did a thing.
Precisely what thing was hard to decipher in the low light of the restaurant. He would have said she looked pained, but then it was gone so fast he chalked it up to a shadow, especially because when she spoke again, there was no undercurrent. Just normal Heidi.
“Only that she makes Kate’s mom look like a kitten in comparison.” She patted his arm. “You’d run away in fear.”
“I have to meet her at some point.”
Her finger, the nails short and unpolished yet no less feminine, came to her lip, tapped the bottom one. Twice. “But do you?”
“I do.”
“Damn”—a smile that was completely normal without a weird eye shadow thing and with absolutely no trace of an undercurrent—“and here I was thinking of trying to keep you all to myself.”
He glanced around the table, the other occupants unabashedly watching him and Heidi make gooey eyes at each other, then back to his woman. “And that’s worked so well.”
Another tinkling laugh and she leaned closer, waving a hand in their direction. “Ignore them,” she said, pitched loud enough for the table to hear. “They mean nothing.”
“I resent that comment.” From Cora.
“Meh. I don’t need your romance. I’ve got my own.” Courtesy of Kate.
“Well, I, for one, am enjoying the banter. How do those two keep it up?” Via Kels.
“No idea. It’s kind of sickening.” Added by Stef, who had her casted ankle propped up on a chair.
“Actually,” Heidi said on a shrug, “it’s a gift.”
He leaned closer, whispered in her ear. “I thought we were supposed to be ignoring them.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Oh. Right.”
Except, she didn’t say anything.
Probably because, same as him, she’d been having so much fun bantering with him that she couldn’t remember what they were supposed to be talking about.
“What were we talking about?” he asked.
Her eyes twinkled, voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t remember.”
Chuckling, he thought back, remembered. “Dinner tomorrow,” he said. “With the frightening supervillains known as the Moms.”
Heidi linked her hand with his, stretched up, pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re just still upset with them because you got in trouble about the wedding cake.”
“A man ruins one stupidly expensive cake, and he never hears the end of it,” he muttered.
“Rightfully so,” Kate chimed in from across the table, drawing them out from each other. “I never even got to eat my lemon layer.” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, adopted a mournful expression. “Oh, the humanity.”
“I did say I was sorry,” he said, knowing she was joking but still feeling guilty about the entire scenario.
“I’m just teasing.” Her face immediately gentled. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was your cock’s fault,” Heidi said.
And by said, he meant practically shouting it across the table . . . right when the restaurant had one of those periodic lulls in conversation . . . which meant that she shouted it across not just the table, but the entire restaurant, too.
Her cheeks flamed as conversations paused, stares turned to her, and then she just shrugged helplessly, setting down the margarita. “Whoops,” she whispered. “I guess one margarita goes to your head when you don’t eat all day.”
“You say that like there’s ever been a time that one margarita hasn’t gone to your head,” Kate teased.
“Fair point,” she replied.
Brad was more concerned about the fact that, “You haven’t eaten all day?”
Heidi winced, patted his shoulder. “Don’t get all scowly.” Her fingers brushed over his lips. “I was out of muffins, and Molly’s was closed by the time we got back yesterday.” A shrug. “I meant to stop for lunch, but I forgot. And then I drove to your place when you didn’t meet me . . .” Another lift and drop of her shoulders. “The day just ran away from me.”
He snagged Jaime’s nachos, shoved them in front of her, ignoring his brother’s, “Hey!” and ordering her to, “Eat. Now.”
She lifted a brow. “Remember what I said about orders?”
He leaned in, whispered into her ear, his cock twitching when she shivered and shifted closer, “You said you only like my orders in bed.”
Her head turned, those green-brown eyes coming to his. “I do like them in bed.”
Bringing his lips to her ear again, he murmured. “Well, consider that off the table unless you eat the fucking nachos.”
For a moment, she melted against him, her shoulder resting against his chest.
Then his words seemed to process, because she straightened, eyes narrowing into a glare. “I ought to kick you out of my bed altogether.”
He leaned in, nipped at her bottom lip. “You’d miss me.”
“Ouch,” she muttered, rubbing the lush curve of her mouth.
“You like it,” he countered.
She made a face. “So, what if I do? I still don’t have to put up with your—”
He lifted a chip crammed with meat and beans, salsa and sour cream, cheese and guacamole and shoved it into her mouth.
Her glare was back.
But then it softened.
She chewed, swallowed. “I fucking love you, even when you drive me insane.”
“I—”
“Love you,” Cora interrupted, drawing the focus of
the table. “And yadda, yadda, yadda. It’s so predictable and lovely, and I’m insanely jealous.” She threw her hands up. “Look, I’m happy for you fuckers, but I’m surrounded by gushiness on all sides here! Is it too much for me to ask you to give a single girl some relief around here and not to rub all your HEAs in my face?”
Stef, the only other single girl at the table, nodded. “I second this motion.”
Kate opened her mouth, an apology in her expression, but Cora shushed her with a finger in her direction.
“As I said, I am happy for you all. So, no freaking apologies.” A beat. “But can we just cool it with the soul-deep declarations? Just through the main course?”
Silence.
Three couples’ gazes meeting, guilt drifting between them.
“I said no guilt!”
“Well, technically, you said no apologies,” Kelsey pointed out.
“Ugh,” Cora said.
“Can the soul-deep declarations resume over dessert?” Kate asked innocently.
More silence.
Then “Ugh!” Cora and Stef said at the same time.
But then the waiter came and began delivering entrees, and pretty soon the group was overtaken by the latest drama on the episode of 90 Day Fiancé, and Brad had such a good time hanging out with his woman and her friends—now his friends, too—that he forgot all about the thing with Heidi’s eyes, the undercurrent in her voice.
Later, he wished he’d remembered.
Wished he’d pushed to get to the bottom of it.
If only he had . . . because so much would have turned out differently.
Twenty-Four
Heidi
She woke deliciously sore but in the best possible way.
Last night had been the tequila night to end all tequila nights.
She, Kels, Cora, Stef, and Kate had decided to share a pitcher, and thus, it put all other tequila nights to shame.
And it made her look forward to finding other ways to top it, to make future tequila nights even better.
She was going to need to start reading erotica in order to up her game.
Brad had given her that hot, sleek smile of his when she’d told him that, kissing her in that long and slow way of his before he’d gotten up to bring her a coffee, and she knew he was looking forward to future tequila nights as much as she was.
He’d brought her a steaming mug—two sugars and a heavy splash of cream—before ordering her to stay in bed.
Probably, she should have protested, should have gotten up and helped him . . . but she was being lazy, and she was tired and cozied up with her back propped up by pillows, her coffee in hand, and he’d offered to cook for her.
So, she was lounging in bed and enjoying his care.
But she was also making a mental note to return that care.
Because he deserved to have this same warm, fuzzy feeling.
In the meantime, she thought, setting her coffee down and burrowing deeper into the blankets, she was going to enjoy the break. Now, if only she didn’t need to have her arms out from beneath the comforter to hold her book.
Tough life, she knew.
Sometime later—well, four chapters later—Brad appeared in the doorway, shirtless, with a streak of flour across his chest, a plate laden with goodies in his hands.
“Where’s yours?” she asked.
He smiled, crawled into bed next to her, balancing the plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon in one hand. “Here.”
She pressed her lips together.
“So, where’s mine?”
Another smile, his body pressing against hers. “Here.”
Ah, now she saw how this was going to work.
He settled the plate on his lap, scooped up a bite of pancake onto the fork, and lifted it up to her lips.
Right as a knock came on the door.
They both paused.
Then he shrugged. “Ignore it.”
Dutifully, she parted her lips, ate the bite he’d offered her.
The knock came again. Trailed by the buzz of her phone.
“This is the continue ignoring part,” he said.
Another knock. More buzzing.
He sighed, set the plate on the nightstand. “You get the phone, I’ll get the door.”
She made a face but dutifully reached for her cell, snagging it from the charging cradle, at the same time her glorious—and still shirtless man—headed to the door.
“Hello?” she asked.
“It’s me,” Kate’s voice came on the line, and it was impossible to miss the panic. “Please, tell me you’re staying at Brad’s place.”
She frowned. “No, we’re at mine.”
“Shit. Listen, you need to know that your—”
There was a movement in the doorway, drawing her gaze up, and . . . horror dawned.
“—mom is in town.”
Her cell dropped to the mattress.
Fifteen minutes later, she and Brad were both fully dressed, her phone was back in the charging stand, and she was seated at the kitchen table while Brad redistributed the contents of the two-for-one plate into . . . well, two plates, and then made up one more.
For her mother.
Who was wiping a finger across the wooden surface of Heidi’s table.
Colleen grimaced and reached into the handbag she hadn’t yet put down, extracting a package of wet wipes then cleaning the area in front of her.
Then the back of the chair, and the seat, and the fork and knife Brad had placed on a napkin for her before serving up breakfast.
Brad, who’d turned from the counter, two plates in hand, was watching the exercise with raised brows. Brows he then turned onto her.
And all she could do was shrug helplessly.
This was her mother.
The lite version of her mother.
Because more . . . of her mother’s motherness would come.
“I believe I bought you placemats, dear,” she said.
Ugly ass ones with puke green flowers and red trim—like the most unattractive version of Christmas someone could imagine.
“Ah, yes.” She cleared her throat. “I only use them for very special occasions.” Brad set a plate in front of her mom, rounded the table to set one in front of Heidi, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.
She smiled up at him. “Thanks,” she murmured.
He brushed his fingers over her cheek. “You’re welcome.”
Then he returned for his own and sat down next to her.
Heidi didn’t bother saying anything. Her mother wouldn’t trouble herself to listen to anything she had to say that wasn’t what she wanted to hear, so the best tactic was to wait for her to start the conversation.
“Breakfast this late in the day?”
Ah.
Cool.
She was going to start off with a bang.
“Yup,” Heidi said, feeling Brad’s gaze on her face. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, saw his features drawn in confusion.
He cleared his throat. “Heidi and I had a late night.”
“Hmm.”
“And I have to say I’m a big fan of breakfast, no matter the time of day,” he added.
“I see.”
Except, she answered it like she always said something that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Like someone was suggesting they go out and slaughter unicorns.
Heidi continued to ignore her, glancing at Brad as she shoveled in food. “Thank you,” she said between bites. “This is delicious.”
He rested his palm on her thigh. “You’re welcome.”
“You cooked?”
His gaze went from Heidi to her mother. “Heidi has been working really hard,” he said. “I figured she could use a break.”
A sniff. “Working.”
More unicorn slaughtering.
And she knew that she had to take this in hand. “Yes, Mom, working. I’m still at the lab, and I love it.”
“And does Brad love it?”
Her throat seized, but before she could summon a reply, he answered, “I enjoy spending whatever time with her I can, and yes, I love that she has a job that fulfills her.”
Stink face.
That was the only way she could think to describe her mother’s expression.
“Mom—” she began.
“What do you do?”
Brad was nonplussed by the sharp question. “I’m a web designer.”
“And can you make a living at that?”
He chuckled. “I’ve been making a living at it for close to ten years now.”
“Ah.”
Cue silence.
“Why’d you decide to come into town, Mom?” she asked into that tense quiet.
“Your father had a conference.”
And neither of them had decided to tell her. Right. Her dad, she could understand. Keeping track of a schedule wasn’t his strong suit. But her mother . . . she was organized, she knew what was coming.
She just expected Heidi to always drop everything and be available.
“Oh, that’s great,” Brad said. “I’d love to meet him. Are you two free later? My family is in town, and we’re having a big dinner with my brother’s wife’s family. Actually, I’m sure you guys probably already know Kate’s parents, huh?” He glanced at Heidi. “Since you guys have known each other since college.”
Heidi shrugged. Yes, her parents had met Kate’s. And it had gone . . . well, about as well as a nuclear explosion. Kate’s parents were . . . nice. Which wasn’t a fair assessment to her dad, she knew. He was a decent person, if not a bit detached from anything that wasn’t the science in his brain.
It was just that her mom was . . . her mom.
“Actually,” she began.
Meanwhile, Brad was still talking. “It’s always a good time, and I’m sure they’d love to have you—”
Her mother daintily picked up a fork, cut off a truly miniscule bite of pancake, and ate it. Then shuddered.
For fuck’s sake.
“—if you’re available and—”
“I’m sure they’re busy,” Heidi blurted. “My father’s conference schedule is always hectic, and he’s usually tired after—”
“Kate McLeod?”
Brad smiled. “She’s a Huntington, now, but yes, she was a McLeod.”