by Elise Faber
Her mom’s eyes widened, hunger inside them. The very same hangers-on hunger she’d had the first time she’d met Kate’s parents. The same hunger that had Heidi promising herself she would never, ever bring their two families into contact again.
“They’re busy,” she said quickly.
“Actually,” her mom said. “No, we’re not. We’d love to come.”
She tried another way. “It’s impolite to add guests—”
“It’s fine, sweetheart,” he said. “My mom is always happy to welcome more, and I know Kate’s mom feels the same.”
Because, of course, they did.
Because the Moms were both wonderful.
Unlike hers.
“Great,” her mother said. “Then it’s settled. Your father and I will join in on the dinner.”
Twenty-Five
Brad
He’d fucked up.
He’d realized that after Heidi’s mom, Colleen, had left to “go get ready” and he’d finally seen Heidi’s face.
He’d known it when her parents had shown up in the rental car, her dad in jeans and a polo that would fit right in with the Huntingtons and McLeods, and her mother in a cocktail dress.
With pearls.
She looked beautiful.
She just didn’t look like she was ready to go to a casual family-style dinner.
Fancy eight-course meal? Yes.
BBQ chicken on paper plates? No.
But he hadn’t realized exactly how much he’d fucked up until dinner.
When Colleen had latched onto Kate’s mom, Marabelle, like a limpet, asking her all about her cosmetic business and how much money she’d made and then approaching practically every item in the large ranch-style house and expounding on how expensive the built-in cabinet must be, and—oh look—that TV was huge, it must be super pricey, and what about the outdoor kitchen? That surely must have cost an arm and leg, especially with that glass tile backsplash.
It wasn’t so much that she was complimenting Marabelle’s style choices . . . it was just . . . all so insincere.
Over the top.
Disingenuous.
But that still wasn’t the moment when he’d realized the extent of his fucked-up-ness.
Nope.
That came from the way she’d treated Heidi.
The way she was still treating Heidi. And look, his own mom had taught him to treat people with kindness and respect, but she’d also taught him to stand up to bullies.
Colleen was a bully.
He didn’t know why she was a bully, but he just knew that she must have been that way for a long time, long enough that Frank, her scientist husband, and Heidi hardly seemed to notice the barely veiled barbs, the disapproving looks.
But as the wine flowed and the dinner went on, the barbs became more obvious.
And the hold on his temper grew decidedly tenuous.
“Tell me what you’re working on in your lab,” Marabelle said. Then chuckled. “Well, tell me whatever you can that’s not top secret, that is.” She glanced over at Colleen. “Isn’t it amazing that your daughter runs her own lab? I heard her last paper was peer reviewed in The Journal.”
For the first time, he saw Frank perk up, lifting his head from his plate of chocolate cake and reaching across the table to pat his daughter’s hand. “It was a fantastic article.”
“But she’s still over thirty and unmarried.”
All eyes at the table turned to Colleen.
Then went back to Heidi—who was gorgeous in an emerald blouse, loose-fitting jeans, and minimal makeup that didn’t hide the red stain on her cheeks. “Lucky for me, there’s more to life than wedding bells.” She smiled at Kate. “No offense to my newly-married friends.”
Kate smiled sympathetically. “None taken. God knows, I spent plenty of time being over thirty and unmarried.”
“Except—”
“Enough, Mom,” Heidi said.
Colleen’s jaw tightened. “Well, even if you don’t care enough to give me grandchildren, the least you could do is go easy on the sugar and carbs so you can fit into a nice wedding dress.” She sniffed. “That is, if you can even get Brad down the aisle.”
Kate gasped.
Heidi’s eyes slid closed.
And he lost it.
He slammed his hands on the table as he shot to his feet, his chair tipping over backward and hitting the floor with a loud thwack. “Where in the hell do you get off treating your daughter that way?”
Primly, she turned in his direction. “Excuse me?” she asked archly.
“No, you’re not excused,” he snapped. “Your behavior is atrocious. Your daughter is the most wonderful woman I have ever met, and I’m lucky enough to love her. And yet you treat her like she’s not worthy.” He slammed his hands on the table again, making several people jump. “You don’t fucking deserve to breathe her air.”
“How dare—”
“How dare I?” He stepped back from the table, straightened his chair. “Is that what you were going to say? How dare I stick up for your daughter? How dare I love her? How dare I be so fucking proud of her for doing something she is incredible at, something she enjoys?”
“I don’t care if she plays at the lab,” Collen said with a sniff. “She still doesn’t have the important things. Plus, she hardly ever sees us.”
“I wonder why,” he growled. “With a mother like you, it’s a wonder she even let you walk through her door this morning. Oh wait, I was the one who let you in.” A beat as gasps surrounded the table. “Your daughter likely would have used that big juicy brain of hers to slam the door in your face—”
“That’s enough.”
His own mother’s voice was probably the only thing that could have stopped him in that instance.
He glanced over at her, vision tinged red with fury.
She cupped his cheek. “Honey, that’s enough.”
Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he nodded, sat back down.
“What manners,” Colleen huffed.
“Colleen—” Frank warned.
She ignored him, her chin lifting somewhere in the level of the atmosphere. “I’ve never had anyone speak to me in such a way,” she said. “Maybe I don’t want such a man to date my daughter.”
“Enough, Mom,” Heidi said. “That’s—”
“The rudeness is just . . . inexplicable. I’ve never said a cross word to anyone and—”
A muscle in his mom’s jaw twitched, but she merely glanced over at Marabelle.
Who nodded.
“I think it’s time to leave,” his mom said.
“Yes”—Colleen placed her napkin on the table—“it’s getting late. This dinner should have ended long ago—”
“No,” Marabelle said, standing up and striding into the hall, where she opened the front door. “What I mean is that you should go, and the rest of us will enjoy our evening.”
Colleen froze in the middle of collecting her purse. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me fine,” Marabelle said. “I won’t tell you not to come back because I’m not the kind of person who closes doors on other people. Hence, the reason you’re back here in my house, despite the rudeness you showed the last time you visited.” She crossed her arms. “However, I will tell you that as of this moment, you certainly will not be welcomed back in this house unless you’re prepared to treat everyone with respect and understanding, including your lovely, wonderful daughter.”
Heidi blinked rapidly, her gaze falling to the table. “Mom,” she said. “Please, just go.” Brad took her hand. She pulled away, held them tightly in her lap.
“Well, I never—”
Frank seemed to finally grow a pair. “Colleen,” he snapped. “That is more than enough.”
She whirled on him, glaring darkly. “Don’t you dare—”
He stood abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor. “Don’t you see that you’re embarrassing yourself? That you’re embarrassing your daughter?” His
shoulders straightened. “And me. You’re embarrassing me.” A beat, his eyes, so similar to Heidi’s skimmed the table. “You need to apologize. To everyone.”
Colleen crossed her arms and glared at the ceiling.
Frank sighed, pushed in the chair, and kissed Heidi—whose expression had turned bleak, her eyes reddened, her skin dull and pale—on the cheek. “My apologies for my wife’s inexcusable rudeness,” he said to the table and grabbed their two jackets from the hook, draping them over one arm, before his eyes went to Marabelle’s. “I hope that if we are ever given the honor of an invitation to your wonderful home again that my wife will find her manners. Either that, or you can feel free to leave her off the invite.”
Colleen bristled. “How—”
“I,” he said, speaking loud enough to drown out Colleen, “on the other hand, cannot thank you enough for the care you’ve shown my daughter.” His gaze went to Heidi, who had dropped her eyes to her folded hands. “Thank you for giving that to her.” His voice dropped. “She deserves it and so much more. She deserves all the happiness in the world.” A squeeze to her shoulder before he cleared his throat, his volume increasing, forced cheerfulness in his tone. “We’ll let you folks get on with your night. I’m sure you’ll have a much better time without us.”
With that, he snagged Colleen’s arm and dragged the still-sputtering woman out the front door.
A heartbeat later, Marabelle slammed it behind them.
Then locked it, rubbing her hands together.
“I meant it when I said I don’t normally close doors on people.” She rolled her head from side to side. “But damn, did that feel good.”
She laughed, and the room joined in.
But not the whole room. Because his ears prickled, realizing that someone’s laugh had been missing.
Not someone’s.
Heidi’s.
Because she was gone.
Twenty-Six
Heidi
She was hiding in the darkened shadows of Kate’s parent’s back yard and wondering if she could dig a hole deep enough to hide in when Brad found her.
Hands around her waist, a firm chest at her spine.
Just holding her silently for long moments.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered when she could speak without sobbing.
“For what?”
A startled laugh as she spun in his arms. “For what?” she asked. “For what?” She shook her head. “She was being awful, doing the same stuff she always does, and I couldn’t break that fucking cycle. I just sat there like a fucking lump, taking it.” She pushed away from him then stalked away. “I just let her treat me like shit.”
“First,” he said, coming up behind her and snagging her hand. “It was damned hard trying to get a word in edgewise with the woman.” He tugged her toward him. “Second, sometimes it’s not the easiest telling people you love that they’re out of line.” He smoothed back her hair. “Third, I repeat, there was not a lot of room in that conversation for more words, even though I do seem to remember you telling her to stop.”
“She didn’t listen, though, did she?”
“Does she listen to anyone?”
He had a point there.
“No.” But . . . God she was so fucking embarrassed. That scene was just one of those special moments her mother excelled at creating and then adding in the rest of her behavior. It was right up there with the nuclear explosion of her parents’ first meeting with Kate’s mom and dad.
Only this time, she’d managed to squeeze out a few more words.
Barely.
“Baby,” he whispered. “No one is upset at you.”
She knew that—well, she supposed she knew that, but . . . how could they not be mad at her? It was her mom that had ruined the fun night, her mom who’d said all the rude things. It was absolutely despicable, the way her mother had acted.
“I had to battle Kate and both of our mothers for the privilege to make sure you’re okay.”
She winced. “They should just get on with their meal.”
“We should get on with our dessert before my dad gorges himself on the rest of the chocolate cake.” She smiled, thinking it had definitely been gorge-worthy, or at least the one bite of it she’d managed to eat had been absolutely delicious before her mom had gone on her tear. “Plus, when everyone is done, we’re going to play Ticket to Ride.” He laughed. “And I should warn you, my mom has been practicing since Marabelle destroyed her so incredibly badly last time.”
Somehow, despite the scene in the dining room, this man still made her laugh.
“There it is,” he whispered.
“There’s what?”
“The laugh that makes my heart fill with joy.” He cupped the side of her neck, drew her against him once again. “Baby, no one cares that your mom is the worst, and certainly not the Moms. They’ve decided to make you an official Huntington-McLeod adopted daughter, and their pledge is to ensure that you understand you’re, quote ‘beautiful, smart, and beyond wonderful’—all of which are true, by the way.” His thumb brushed across her cheek, and she realized she was crying. “I’d also add strong, sexy as shit with Viking braids, and so fucking funny that you give my banter skills a run for the money.”
“Brad,” she whispered.
“So, good luck dealing with the pair of them,” he said. “In fact, I heard Marabelle plotting with my mom that they were going to wrap you up in so much love you would never be able to escape.”
She sighed. “They really are quite wonderful.”
“You say that now,” he teased, then loosened his hold, lacing their fingers together and drawing her toward the house. “Come on, let’s go cheat by working together so neither of our moms can get the most successful railroad.”
“Wait.”
He stopped. “What, baby?”
“Are you sure no one is mad?” Her teeth found her bottom lip, nibbled lightly. “I ruined their night and—”
He kissed her gently and filled with so much love and tender affection that she felt her heart melt. “I can absolutely promise you that no one is mad.” He paused. “Well, no one currently allowed in Marabelle’s house. Your mom on the other hand . . .”
She tugged her hand free, covered her face, groaning. “I hate that I didn’t stand up for myself.”
He came close again, rubbed his hand up and down her back. “You know what the great part about being in a relationship is?”
Her shoulders relaxed the slightest bit. “Besides the copious amount of orgasms?”
A smile. “Yes, besides those.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “What?”
“That you don’t have to fight all of your battles alone.”
“Look at you, sounding all logical.” She wrinkled her nose. “Of course, I know you’re right, and I do thank you for standing up for me. Knowing that you’d go to bat for me, even in an uncomfortable situation . . . it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”
“Does that mean you love me even more?”
She made a face. “Not that your ego needs it, but yes. You saying those things, sticking up for me . . . yes, I love you even more.”
The breeze picked up, rustling through her hair, making her shiver.
“You’re cold.” He bundled her against his warm chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her. “Let’s go inside.”
She let him lead her toward the house. “I just wish I could have said . . .” She trailed off, realization finally dawning on her, making her go still in his arms, her brain putting the puzzle pieces together.
“What, baby?” he prompted.
“It wouldn’t have mattered what I said, would it?”
He just stroked a hand down her spine, let her continue to think about that. After a moment, she shook her head. “No,” she murmured. “I don’t think it would have.”
Brad loved her. He had her back. And further that, her dad, who normally was so deep in his own head had recognized she needed that,
too, needed someone to build her up rather than tear her down. She supposed that her mom also loved her, at least in some unhealthy way, a way that made it so she would never turn down an opportunity to make Heidi feel small.
But that didn’t have anything to do with her.
Did that suck?
Hell yeah.
Did that make a part of her feel like shit?
Hell fucking yeah.
But could she truly do anything to change her mother’s behavior? No.
Nothing she did would ever make her mom change. So, she could only alter her reaction, adjust her expectations. Heidi could work on extracting herself from the situations, make sure she didn’t allow herself to be waylaid into scenarios she didn’t want to participate in. She could keep her distance from her mom, only allow the interactions she was comfortable with.
And . . . she could continue surrounding herself with people who loved her for who she was.
Who didn’t see her as a failure.
Who instead saw her flaws and loved her all the more for them.
“Heidi.”
She stopped and stared up at him. “I love you.”
His face softened. “I love you.” Fingers on her cheek. “I’ll love you until—”
“Come on already!” Jaime shouted from the door. “Just kiss her until she gets all dopey and forgets what happened. Then we’ll convince her we don’t care what happened—”
“Unless, of course, she beats me in Ticket to Ride,” Marabelle called. “Then all bets are off!”
Heidi had frozen at the sound of Jaime’s voice.
The addition of Marabelle’s made her smile.
Brad smoothed back her hair. “I guess I’d better listen to him.”
“Wh—?”
But she didn’t get to finish the question because his lips were on hers, and then he was kissing her until she was loopy, until her heart pounded and her pulse was skittering through her veins.
Then he took her inside to play a board game.
As though it were a normal night and not one where her heart had seemed to grow three sizes.
“Hey,” Jaime said as they started to walk past him.