“Yeah, I can work with that,” I said, shaking my head in agreement.
“What is it with you women and that movie?” he asked, picking up his fork once again for another bite of pie.
“We can discuss it in depth some other time. Moving on to rule five: you have to give me an honest opinion when I ask you how something tastes. It makes me crazy when everyone says something tastes great when it could clearly taste better.”
“But then you have to believe me when I tell you,” he responded. “Don’t ‘girl’ your way out of it and think I’m lying when odds are, I really do think it’s fine.”
“Fair enough. Rule six: don’t fix me. This one is important. If I’ve had a bad day, just be the good part of my day. Don’t tell me what I could have done differently, or what will make it better.”
“I can’t imagine you needing to be fixed,” he replied, staring up into the sky. “I kind of like you as you are. Uptight and unsure of me.”
I threw my fork at him. "I am not uptight," I said defiantly.
"But you're still unsure of me?" he asked sincerely.
“Do you really think this whole thing will work?” I asked honestly. “I mean, usually people get to know these things about someone else slowly. Are all of these rules sucking the fun out of it?”
“Is The Notebook any less romantic the more you watch it?” he asked inquisitively.
“No, it’s perfect every time, even though I know exactly how it ends.”
“So maybe putting all of this out there from the beginning, all these rules, maybe it’s just our own version of romance,” he responded. “Nothing else has worked for us, right? This way we both call the shots. We already know exactly what we want and what we’re going to get.”
I appreciated his optimism, I really did. But just because we wrote something down on a napkin, it didn't make any of those things true. I liked the logic behind it, sure. But logic and love were two very, very different things.
Chapter 9
The whole idea of meeting Greyson’s family tonight really freaked me out. It was way too soon for this. Last night we were just deciding to even get into this relationship, sorting out all of our rules and such. And now tonight it was as if we were already a real couple. I felt like I still didn’t know much about Greyson, other than some very general details. The thought of being drilled with questions tonight from his family seemed awkward, when Greyson probably wouldn’t know those things about me either.
I opted for a peach knee-length skirt and a fitted white top. I didn’t want to look too dressy, considering the dinner was held at his mom’s house. But he mentioned his grandma would be there, along with a couple of his aunts. If I was stepping into the lion’s den, I had better at least look cute while doing it.
I curled my short hair and applied some light make-up. A few minutes later there was a knock on my door.
I opened it to find Greyson leaning against the door frame, looking quite handsome in dark jeans and a soft blue button down shirt. The color matched his eyes perfectly, and for a brief moment I wanted to pull him into my apartment and not go anywhere tonight.
“You look amazing,” Greyson said softly, kissing my cheek. He grabbed my hand and led me down the metal steps and into his truck. As we pulled away and began our hour drive down the mountains into Reno, I pried for more information about his family.
“So there will just be a few of us, right? This dinner isn’t a huge thing?” I asked nervously.
“Well, I didn’t want to say anything. But maybe it’s better if you’re prepared,” he said hesitantly. “Once they heard I was bringing a girl, a few more family members have elected to come by.”
“A few more? So instead of five or six of us, there may be eight or nine?” My stomach began to feel queasy.
“Well,” he said with a grimace, “don’t freak out. More like fifteen people, maybe a few more.”
“Fifteen people? That is just a ‘Sunday night family dinner’ crowd? Where I come from, that’s a full on party. Is that like, every person you’re related to?” I asked frantically.
“Well, kind of,” he answered honestly. “Look, I’m sorry it turned into something more. My mom just got so excited so she made some calls. A few cousins wanted to come, and before I knew it…”
“Cousins?” I said interrupting him. “I’ve only known you for two days and we’re already on cousins?” I shot him a worried glance.
“Look, I don’t usually bring girls home,” he began.
“So you chose a girl you’ve known for ten minutes? And who you’re in a ‘temporary’ relationship with, I might add. Now in three weeks you have to explain our relationship status to cousins?” The more I thought about it, the more it fired me up.
“You really think this relationship is temporary?” he asked. I couldn’t tell if he was hurt by my comment, or if he was just egging me on.
“Forgive me for questioning the ‘opt-out’ clause in the rules you drafted,” I replied sarcastically. “I think you’re a little bit crazy.”
“Then this might be a bad time to tell you I’m the normal one in my family,” he muttered.
We listened to music and made small talk for the rest of the drive and finally pulled into a small neighborhood at the base of the mountains. As we pulled into his mom’s driveway, I could already see numerous heads standing around through the kitchen window. The house was a small grey two-story home with a large fenced in backyard.
As we walked into the house, I could feel eyes all over me. A tall bubbly woman in her mid-fifties approached me with a wide grin. She had short blonde hair and leopard print clothing.
“Mom, this is Mallory,” Greyson said politely. Within seconds her arms were stretched around me, embracing me in a big hug.
“You have a beautiful home Mrs. Luca,” I said politely, thankful to finally be released.
“Please, call me Julie,” she said warmly.
“So this is the girl?” a short middle-aged woman asked.
“Oh my, she’s even prettier than I would have imagined,” another woman next to her said.
Greyson introduced me to everyone one by one, and I knew there was no hope for remembering all of their names.
We all moved outside to the back patio area and his mom brought out trays of food. The backyard was impeccable; there were flowers everywhere and bright colored patio chairs lined the moderately sized wooden deck.
“So,” Julie began as she uncovered all of the food and placed serving spoons around the table. “Tell us a little bit about yourself, Mallory. Greyson never mentioned you until yesterday, so we don’t have many details.”
That’s because I didn’t know him until yesterday.
“Well, I own a bakery up in Mountain Ridge. It’s just a few blocks from downtown,” I began. I could hear squeals and whispers as I spoke.
“Oh, she’s successful,” one of his aunts whispered to another.
“I grew up nearby, but my parents now live in Sacramento. In college I studied abroad in Paris, Italy, and Australia,” I added.
“Greyson, you never told us she was a world traveler,” his grandma Jane interjected.
That’s because he didn’t know.
“Yeah, well I knew you guys would drill her about all of this stuff anyway. No point in spilling all her details before you even met her, right?” Greyson said, winking at me.
As we ate, I told them a little more about myself. I mentioned I was a fitness instructor before opening the bakery and they all seemed amused by that. A few people throughout the night tried prying for more information about my relationship with Greyson.
“So, things must be serious between you and Greyson,” Aunt Felicia asked me as we cleared the table.
“Well, you never know how things will work out,” I answered awkwardly.
“It’s been so long since Greyson brought a girl home we all started to wonder if he was even interested in women,” another aunt remarked, and then giggled. For a brie
f moment, Greyson’s dead fiancé crossed my mind. I wondered if they had met any other girls since her.
“So, do you plan on marriage and kids? Or are you married to your work, dear?” Grandma Jane asked.
I need to get out of here.
“Greyson,” I said excitedly as he walked into the kitchen. “I do have a really early morning tomorrow at the bakery. Maybe we should head back soon?”
“Sure. I have a few meetings tomorrow as well,” he responded, eyeing me suspiciously.
I thanked Julie for her hospitality and said goodbye to the rest of his family. We left the house and climbed into his truck.
“Do you really have to work early tomorrow or did you just want to get out of there?” Greyson asked inquisitively.
“Honestly, a little of both,” I replied sincerely. “Once I was asked about our marriage and kids, I kind of shut down,” I said smirking.
“Let me guess, Grandma Jane? She can be a little direct,” he said laughing. “Do you want me to take you home, or can I show you something first?”
I stared back at Greyson, taking in how genuine of a guy he actually was. I suppose tonight wasn’t exactly easy or completely comfortable for him either. My eyes continued to be mesmerized by his handsome face. He looked so put together in his jeans and collared shirt, with his slightly wavy blonde hair and bright eyes. I couldn’t fault him for his intentions so far; he really did seem to be trying to turn this relationship into something.
“I don’t have to go into the bakery that early. You can take me anywhere you want,” I answered honestly.
“Well in that case, you may not make it home at all tonight,” he replied with a grin.
Chapter 10
“What is this place?” I asked as he pulled into a parking lot in front of a dark building. Greyson faced his truck directly at the building so that his headlights illuminated it. The inside looked vacant, but I could see some shelving units and some counter space inside.
“My dream,” he said, shutting off the engine. “I’m going to buy it. Eventually.” He looked over at me, beaming. “Instead of cooking out of my condo or in my mom’s diner, this will be my kitchen.”
“It’s so big,” I said, glancing through the streams of light from his headlights. It looked at least twice as big as my bakery storefront, though I couldn’t tell how far the space went back.
“Well, I thought I could put some glass cases in the front there,” he said pointing into the darkness at one side of the large picture window. “Maybe I could rent out some space to a baker so I could offer desserts,” he said with a smirk.
“Oh no. No way,” I said shaking my head. “Is that why I’m here? Is that what this relationship contract is about? You really just want to expand your business?” Suddenly I felt as though maybe Greyson wasn’t being as honest with me as I thought. Did he have other intentions?
“No Mal, that’s not what I’m getting at,” he said defensively.
“So you want to compete with me then?” I said, still a little angry and annoyed by this conversation. “Because I can tell you right now this isn’t going to be an amicable relationship if you’re trying to market yourself against me.”
“Mallory, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant at all. I’m just saying it’s a big space. That’s all I meant. I mean, if things work out between us,” he began.
“If things work out? I just spent three hours meeting your entire family all because it was some ‘rule’ you came up with on a napkin that I couldn’t say no to. I understand this isn’t exactly a conventional relationship based on passion and romance, but I think we definitely need to separate whatever this is from business.”
Greyson interrupted me. “Look, I’m sorry it all came out like that. That’s not what I meant.” He shook his head and looked like he was trying to gather his thoughts. “This isn’t even my space, it’s just something that I really want. Something that I’m hoping for. I really like you Mallory, and I just wanted to share this place with you tonight because it means something to me, that’s all. I kind of view this relationship the same way I think of this building; I know it’s something I really want, but I have no idea whether or not it will work out because I don’t get to decide everything.” He stared into my eyes and he looked so vulnerable to me in that moment.
“How can you be sure you want this? Me? What makes you think I’m the girl who can fit into your life?”
“Because you’re not what I expected,” he said softly.
“What does that even mean?” I asked curiously.
“Well, I just always thought I would find someone who really ‘got’ me, you know? Someone who understood my passion for my business, someone who challenges me. You really get under my skin. You have since the first day I met you when you bossed me around and insulted my Italian heritage,” he said smirking. “You’re so calculated and safe and prepared for everything, but you need to get outside of your own head.”
“I can’t even decipher if that’s a compliment or not,” I said with a raised brow.
“It is,” he said sincerely, still staring directly at me. His lips curled up into a smile and I hated how attractive he was in the exact moments I questioned whether or not I could tolerate him.
“Well that’s my problem. I am safe and prepared and I have everything planned out. But then you came along with your business and your rules and well, I just didn’t expect you,” I responded, trying to explain how much his presence rattled me.
“The best things in this world are unexpected, Mal.”
“Yeah, like tsunamis and earthquakes and serial killers and large swarms of bees?” I said randomly, just throwing words out of my head. “I just don’t want to get burned when I see a fire coming, that’s all I’m saying. Because then it’s my fault, and I hate that.”
“That’s what I mean about you needing to get out of your own head. Just trust me, Mal. I promise you I will not disappoint you,” he said, leaning over to kiss me. His lips were warm against mine, and despite how crazy he made me feel, I finally realized it was a good kind of crazy.
I pulled my lips away from his and moved my body closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder. He stroked my hair, and I imagined for a moment this was a normal relationship.
“What’s your favorite thing to cook?” I asked.
“Breakfast,” he said smiling down on me. “But for work, I don’t know that I could pick a favorite. I love every kind of pasta. I love recipes with bacon. I love mixing different sauces together to make new flavors people wouldn’t expect. I like trying something for the first time, so anytime I make a new recipe I think it will be my best invention. What about you? What’s your favorite thing to bake? Carrot cake probably?”
“Actually, I prefer other people’s carrot cake. I know that seems weird. But it’s kind of like scratching your own back, it’s never as good as someone else doing it. I think I like cupcakes the best. They’re so small and easy and perfect. Four year olds love them, eighty year olds love them. I like their simplicity. Maybe I’m a girl who likes knowing what I’ll get,” I said, staring out into the building still illuminated in front of us.
“Well then I won’t try to fix you,” he said with a smirk, referring to one of my rules. He kissed the top of my head and turned his keys in the ignition.
He drove me back to my apartment and we made small talk about his family. As we pulled into my apartment lot, I unfastened my seatbelt.
“I’m sure you have a busy week, but can we pick a day to hang out? The whole day?” he asked sincerely.
“Oh yes, one of your rules. We have to have an ‘us’ day,” I replied.
How did I go from being so in love with Dillon to being called unlovable to scheduling an ‘us’ day with a guy who still seemed like a stranger in a week’s time?
“I can move some things around and we can do either Tuesday or Wednesday if that works for you,” I suggested.
“Let’s do it Tuesday then. I don’t want to wai
t the extra day,” he said with a mischievous smirk.
“Don’t you have to check your schedule or something?” I asked.
“I make my own schedule,” he responded, sliding closer to me. He brushed a section of my hair back from my face and stared into my eyes. I loved moments like these. Usually he seemed so confident, so eager to make something out of whatever this relationship was. Then he sporadically had moments like this where it felt like he was so vulnerable, as if he was waiting for me to tell him what to do. I kissed him gently.
“I have a pretty early morning tomorrow. I know I keep going back and forth on that, but I really do need to be in the bakery by six a.m. I’m going to head in,” I said, softly kissing him one more time.
“I’ll walk you to your door then,” he said, reaching to unlock his seatbelt.
“Don’t worry about it, please. The steps are right there. Walking to the door after a date is the worst,” I said smirking.
“What? I thought women loved the walk to the door,” he responded with a raised eyebrow.
“No way, it kills me. Too many feelings. With every footstep your mind is racing, expectations are flying. It’s never been my forte,” I said honestly.
“Right, got it. No feelings or expectations. I can see how that would be a terrible thing for a budding romance,” he said sarcastically. I playfully slapped his arm.
“Look, I’ll probably have to work until at least six or seven tomorrow night. I have a pretty busy day. But do you want to grab a late dinner?” I asked.
“Only if you’ll walk me to my door afterwards,” he responded teasingly.
“Fair enough,” I said smiling. “I’ll call you when I’m done at the bakery.” I opened the truck door and began to climb out.
“Mallory,” he said stopping me. He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine, firmly, passionately. He ran his fingers through my hair. “I hope your mind races anyway while I watch you walk up the steps.” He flashed a boyish smile at me and I couldn’t help but grin back.
This guy was like quicksand, pulling me in. The trouble was, I wasn’t sure I wanted out.
Six Rules: Book Two in the SIX Series Page 6