by Max Monroe
It conceded the point, finally, that we were friends, but it didn’t budge an inch on the possibility we might be more.
I wasn’t yet sure exactly what I wanted, but I didn’t want that.
“Actually, Dad, Winnie and I are dating.”
Winnie sputtered and choked on nothing more than her tied tongue and a mouthful of saliva. I pulled her tight body close and peered down into the distressed and murky pools of her too-pretty eyes.
“Okay, Fred?”
The use of her ridiculous nickname only agitated her more. The seas of her blue eyes raged, and her plump lips thinned into a tight line. In some twisted way, it felt fucking satisfying to make her feel the same way I’d felt only moments before by stating one simple fact.
“Uh-huh,” my dad hummed knowingly. “The sex between the two of you must be dynamite.”
Jesus. I jerked my head. My dad never said shit like that. Acted it out, implied it, sure. But said it outright? No. That was really more Dr. Cummings’s—Georgia’s mother—style. She was a sex therapist, and her knack for getting straight to the weird and dirty was quite impressive.
“What?” Winnie asked through a startled laugh, sure she’d heard him wrong, but I could guarantee she hadn’t. Each horrifying word was burned in my brain forever, a souvenir to take forward into each and every one of my nightmares.
I probably owe Georgia an apology because this is embarrassing as fuck.
My dad didn’t seem even a little ashamed, though—even when I dragged a very threatening finger across the line of my throat. In fact, if I wasn’t mistaken, I saw a goddamn twinkle of enjoyment in his eye.
“All that passion.” He smirked and looked directly at Winnie. “You went willingly into his arms, doll. That means the heart knows. All that fire in your eyes means your brain is the only part strong enough to fight.”
“Dad—”
“That’s how it was for Wes’s mother and me.”
My throat clogged at the unexpected mention of my mother. He spoke of her fondly always, but he never spoke about them as a couple. I always got the feeling that it hurt too much—that years and years did nothing to make it easier to talk about. Everything I knew about them together up until this point had been pure assumption.
But he looked at ease now.
I felt Winnie’s entire body shift with the force of her swallow.
“The fight is fun,” he told Winnie on a whisper, and then shook his head. “But not even half as much as giving in.”
Her body relaxed into mine minutely, as if commanded by his words, and I took the opportunity to plaster her side to mine even tighter.
Unfortunately, her phone rang almost instantaneously, shocking her out of the trance and robbing me of my enjoyment. Part of me felt like it was an emergency call that she’d planned in advance to bail her out of this completely unpredictable situation—the timing was just that perfect.
She put the phone to her ear and listened for three or four beats in time, and I knew what the words out of her mouth would be even before she spoke them. “On my way.”
Still, it was game day, and I did have a vested interest in any of the potential things that could have been happening on the other end of that phone call. When I raised my brows, she put my mind at ease. “Nothing big. No worries.”
Turning to my father, she took his hand in hers. “It was so nice to meet you, Mr. Lancaster.”
“Kyle, doll, and the pleasure is all mine.”
She smiled genuinely, the beam most women gave to flirtatious old men with something extra, and took off down the hall at a speed-walk.
She didn’t look back—and I hated it.
“I should have talked more about your mother,” my father whispered as soon as Winnie was out of earshot. I closed my eyes tight and shook my head.
I was too mentally wrecked to have the big talk now. I just couldn’t do it.
So, without acknowledging his admission, I started to usher my dad in the opposite direction. “Better get you to your seat, Pop.”
He pulled me to a stop and barked a harsh, “Bullshit.”
“Dad,” I warned and started to walk again.
“I’m not going to say much of anything,” he protested, pulling me to a stop a second time like an anchor would a boat. I could float all I wanted until the slack ran out, but until I let him say what he had to say, he’d just keep yanking me right back. “Just one, tiny little nugget from one man to another.”
I took a deep breath and nodded.
“She’s right to be wary of you.”
I tried not to let his words hurt because I knew they were true. Still, I expected a tiny bit more coddling from my father. Unbidden and unwelcome, an ache took shape under the left side of my rib cage.
“Thanks,” I said bitingly, reaching up to rub the tension in my forehead.
“Son,” he called, and I lifted my head to look him in the eyes—eyes that looked just like mine.
“You’re right to fight to prove her wrong.”
“Are we really doing this?” I asked Wes as I cut a fresh loaf of bread into slices.
He dropped the pasta into boiling water and hitched his hip against the counter. “Doing what?”
“The whole meet-the-parents thing?”
Wes had decided that he would like to join my family and me for our weekly Thursday dinners, and he then hadn’t given me a chance to say no. But he hadn’t given me a chance to say yes either, and I honestly wasn’t sure which answer I would have given.
Time with him, in general, felt like home. When we weren’t having ah-may-zing sex, we were flirting and teasing and being playful, and he genuinely made me happy.
But there was so much I didn’t know, couldn’t predict, about our future, and the more I inserted him into my life, Lex’s life—my family’s life—the more it would hurt if and when he decided not to be in them anymore.
“And meet the three remaining brothers, too,” he added with a smirk.
I laughed. “Yeah. That.”
He came up behind me as I stirred the pasta sauce and patted my ass. “You’ve got nothing to fear, Fred. I’ve got this,” he whispered into my ear and then placed a soft kiss to my neck. If I hadn’t been feeling anxiety about Wes spending an entire meal with my mother and four older brothers, my mind probably would’ve taken a detour from Serious Business Avenue straight to Pervy Road.
“I don’t think you know my brothers.”
“I know one of your brothers. And he’s really warming up to me.”
I turned in his arms, rife with skepticism.
“Remy’s warming up to you? How do you figure that?”
“Just a few weeks ago, he was telling me to go fuck myself every time he saw me. Now, he just glares. That seems like progress to me.”
I shook my head.
“A Christmas miracle, perhaps.”
“It’s not Christmas,” I said, and he pushed his lips to mine and spoke there.
“Almost.”
He was being lighthearted, my very favorite version of him, and my entire body started to throb as my heart rate sped up.
God. I’m falling for him.
“What are we?” I blurted out, sliding my hands from his shoulders to his forearms and pushing him away slightly.
His eyebrows pulled together at both the question and the distance. “What do you mean?”
Uncomfortable with my own goddamn question, I turned back to the stove and started stirring the pasta vigorously.
He grabbed my chin in one hand and froze my frantic wrist with the other, pulling my gaze back toward him. “What do you mean, sweetheart?” he whispered seriously, everything about him soft and open.
“Are we…” I started and then paused to lick my lips. His pupils dilated as he watched. “Are we together?”
He tilted his head to the side in serious contemplation, and my lunch started to crawl up my throat with unease.
“Do you want to be together?” he asked. His ga
ze held mine and pled. I just couldn’t tell for what.
“Do you want to be together?” I tried.
He smirked. “I asked you first.”
We stood there for what seemed like forever, lost in each other as I tried to find the courage to tell him how I felt.
Why is it so fucking hard?
“Knock knock! Yo! Winnie girl! Where are you?” a loud, booming voice called from the foyer. I jumped, but Wes never moved an inch.
We stayed there, staring at each other until the moment was completely ruined by my oldest brother Remy bounding into my kitchen. “There you are!” he said with a grin, pulling me into a tight hug and away from Wes.
When Remy finally let me go, Wes stuck out his hand to shake hello. “Remy.”
Remy took his hand and squeezed. Hard. “Go fuck yourself, Lancaster.”
“Jesus, Rem,” I griped. “What is wrong with you?”
Wes smiled, though, and it wasn’t long before it spread from his face to my own.
“Progress, huh?” I teased.
Wes winked. “Minor snag.”
“Uh oh…Uncle Remy said a bad word,” Lexi singsonged as she entered the kitchen with my mother and several bags full of dessert. They’d gone on a run to the three of the best bakeries in a five-block radius just so Lexi could have her donuts, Jude could have his cannoli, and Ty could have fresh chocolate chip and almond cookies. I wasn’t spoiled enough to ask for something specific like my stupid brothers, but, if things kept going as they were, I’d probably take a healthy sample of all three.
“Remington Winslow, where are your manners!” my mother chastised as she set the bags on the counter. Her light blond, conservatively cut hair sat perfectly on her shoulders, but her eyes said, “I will fuck you up if you keep acting like an idiot.”
Momma Winslow had that look down pat. It was the only way for a mother of four sons to keep her wild boys in line.
The whole group of us stared at Remy, but he just shrugged, not the least bit concerned about the fact that he looked like a complete dick. That wasn’t anything new, though. He’d never, but never, given that first fuck about proper conduct.
“Come here, Lexi Lou!” He stretched out both arms.
But before she could sprint into his embrace, Ty barged in. “No way, I get first dibs on hugs from my favorite little niece,” he said as he snatched Lexi into his arms. I hadn’t even heard the door open with his arrival, but the more people who arrived, the less aware I would be. With a family our size, all of our weekly dinners shared one common theme: chaos.
Flynn and Jude arrived shortly after and crowded into the shrinking kitchen. Each and every brother made a show over picking Lexi up and fawning over her, and my heart grew two sizes bigger in my chest like it always did. My daughter hadn’t had the easiest road when it came to father figures in her life, but my brothers had all stepped up.
Her father, Nick, was about as absent as one could get. His appearances in her life were few and far between and almost always self-serving. He wasn’t a bad guy. Intrinsically selfish, he just wasn’t father material.
In the beginning, it had been very hard, being a single mom who could not rely on the father of her child for anything besides finances. It had been a long, tough road. If I hadn’t been nearly done with medical school when I got pregnant, I don’t know that I would have finished.
But I had, starting my career as a physician with a brand-new baby in tow, and thanks to my strong support system, I’d managed to do just fine.
My brothers were a huge part of that.
“Are you going to introduce us, Winnie?” Ty asked.
“Yeah,” Jude agreed. “I thought that’s what this whole shindig was about…parading the new sacrifice, that kind of thing.”
My mother smacked the back of his head, and I smiled. I win.
Jude gave me the finger behind his back, but I backhanded it with an imaginary tennis racket.
Flynn laughed and reached across the space to give me five.
“This is Wes!” Lexi shouted and ran over to slide her little hand into his. She tugged him toward her uncles with a giant grin on her face. Wes’s eyes sought mine. The wonder in them when he made contact? Blinding.
Everyone else was busy trying to mask their surprise. Lex was a different kind of kid, and sometimes, it took a lot of effort for her to really show affection toward someone who wasn’t her family.
It had taken her nanny, Melinda, a solid year to get on Lex’s good side.
But somehow, Wes Lancaster had managed to become one of my daughter’s favorite people in a mind-blowingly short amount of time. She was so inherently comfortable around him, and he her, it was like he understood her little soul on a higher level than most people could. And more than that, he made a real effort to learn the things about her that weren’t as obvious.
“Mom, this is Wes Lancaster.” I started introductions with the most innocuous of all the guests.
“Hi, Mrs. Winslow,” he greeted and pulled her into a quick, thoughtful hug. “I’m Winnie’s boyfriend. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Boyfriend? Did he just say boyfriend?
Wes’s eyes met mine for a brief moment, purpose and intent in them. I was surprised by the declaration, but he sure as shit wasn’t.
My mother giggled a little, and a bright smile lit up her face. “It is wonderful to meet you, Wes. Please, call me Wendy.”
“Boyfriend?” Remy asked.
Yeah, news to me, too, I thought to myself, but I somehow managed to school my facial expression into an amused grin rather than the deer-in-headlights, downright shock that consumed me.
Ignoring Remy and my panic, I finished up introductions. “Wes. Flynn, Jude, Ty, and you know Remy,” I said as I pointed to each of them.
Ty shook his hand with a pathetic attempt of a friendly smile. It looked more like, “Sleep with one eye open, buddy, because I will cut you.”
Jude shrugged.
Flynn offered a halfhearted wave.
And Remy just stared Wes down.
Wow. This was going to be interesting, for sure. My mother breathed the deep, beleaguered sigh of a woman who’d been dealing with this group of obstinate, aggravating humans for the vast majority of her adult life.
But Wes handled it all in stride, moving to each of my brothers, save Remy, and offering a friendly handshake and a smile in the face of each murderous glare flashed in his direction.
“Honey, would you like me to help you with anything?” my mother offered while Wes and my brothers started to chat about the Mavericks’ upcoming game against Philly.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” I answered and turned back to the stove where pasta was boiling and meatballs and garlic bread needed tending to.
When I looked up again, Wes, my brothers, and Lexi were all gone.
Shit.
“Where’d they go?” I asked my mother frenziedly. She had the audacity to laugh.
“Nothing is funny about this!”
“Oh, relax. He’ll be fine,” she assured with a pat to my back. “He went willingly into the living room with them. Either that or your brothers have gotten really good at concealing their techniques.”
“Mom!” I whined.
“He’s handled everything just fine so far. You don’t have anything to worry about. Plus, he’s got his fan club with him.”
Lexi.
“You noticed that, huh?”
“I’ve never seen her take to someone like that,” she murmured quietly, all traces of humor gone, and I had to fight the sting in my eyes.
“Do you love him?” she asked a few quiet moments later as she stirred the pasta sauce.
“Mom.”
“What?” she protested. “It’s a valid question. He’s here in your house, and very obviously in your life, if Lexi’s attachment is any indication.”
I sighed and ventured honestly, “Should I know the answer to that?”
She tilted her head to the side as her motherly g
aze assessed my face. It was a look only a mother could pull off, her honey brown eyes reaching into my soul and listening intently to all of my secrets. “Our hearts always know the answer to that question, but sometimes, our minds put up walls to prevent us from really seeing the situation for what it is.”
“And you think I love him?”
“Oh, honey. I don’t think anything. I’m just asking what you think.”
“I hate it when you do that,” I complained. “I just want my mom to give me the freaking answer. Is that too much to ask?”
She smiled again, and a small, quiet laugh escaped her lips. Her gaze went back to the pasta sauce while I just stood there, feet frozen to the floor and mind racing a mile a minute. Leave it to my mother to push me into the wilds of a reflective state—and then leave me there to fend for myself.
“It’s complicated,” I said, voice quiet and vulnerable. “I’m honestly afraid of what might happen if I let myself love him.”
Laughter rang out from the living room, and my head jerked in that direction. My mother looked at me.
“What are you afraid of?”
I scoffed. “Uh…everything?”
“Winnie.”
I blew out my breath in a huff. “He has absolutely no history of settling down.”
My mom chuckled. “Why would he have settled down before now if you are the right woman?”
Well…I guess she was right.
Fine. Next.
“He’s completely married to his job. He’s so busy, has a hand in so many things, and it’s literally his whole life.”
My mom raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like you.”
“I have Lexi,” I countered, and she smiled a gentle smile.
“And what does he have, dear?”
I’d just met his dad that previous weekend. One of the two or three times a year he saw him. Other than that and his friends, I was guessing the answer was “not fucking much.” Goddammit.
“Matters of the heart are never easy,” my mom educated gently. “But sometimes you just have to take the risk. It’s the only way you’ll find out.”