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Yeah, I made the right decision to hold off a little longer.
Pop had lived with my parents since my grandmother passed away about eight years ago. My parents’ home, the one I was raised in, was a six-thousand-square-foot home in the gated community next to the golf course Sugar Oaks. It was my mom’s idea for Pop to move in so she could be sure he was fed properly.
Never mind that Pop owned a specialty meat shop and could cook pretty damn well on his own. Hale used to follow him around in the kitchen when we were little. But Pop wasn’t going to argue with Beth Broussard. She was a force to be reckoned with when she had her mind set on something.
Besides, he had a giant wing of the house all to himself, including a kitchenette and patio.
Pop was slamming cabinets when Mom said, “I bought you a brand-new bottle on Thursday. It’s in your kitchen above the coffee pot.”
He grunted, turning to face me where I had parked my ass against the counter, both hands gripping the marble behind me. I clenched my jaw tight.
Everything was revving me up more than usual. Maybe it was because all I could wonder was, what would Betty think of this insanity? She seemed so skittish sometimes like anything might send her packing. Would she decide I wasn’t worth the annoyance? Or would she laugh them off?
Probably laugh them off.
“Now you’re making a creepy clown smile,” said Hale, eating a bowl of chicken tortilla soup from a stool at the big island, shoveling food like a goddamn gorilla into his maw. “You look weirder than normal today.”
“He needs a woman,” said Pop from next to Hale, eating one of the tortilla strips used to crumble on top of Mom’s homemade soup.
“He’s got one,” offered Hale, “and she’s a firecracker.”
I wanted to punch that shit-eating grin right off his face because now I had to deal with—
“Oh, ho!” bellowed Pop, turning his full attention on me.
Sighing, I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms.
“What’s she look like?” Pop waggled his bushy, white eyebrows.
Before I could answer him, Hale jumped in. “She’s a redhead. And a hottie. With a smart mouth.”
“I like her already.” Pop nudged Hale with his elbow then asked him, not me, “What about her gams? She got nice ones?”
“Lovely stems. And a perky ass.”
I swear Pop and Hale acted like two middle schoolers. Even though I knew they were purposefully poking the bear, I couldn’t fucking keep my mouth shut.
“She’s also smart and funny and amazing in every damn way. Stop talking about her like she’s a piece of meat,” I snapped back, trying not to lose my cool. And obviously failing.
The room went silent as three pairs of eyes focused on me. Mom with a sweet, knowing look. Hale’s grin widened. Pop looked confused.
“What?” I practically shouted.
“We got him,” murmured Hale to Pop.
“No, sir,” he grumbled. “She’sgot him.”
Before I could grab my quart of gumbo and storm from the room and off to rehearsal, where I couldn’t wait to be, Dad walked in still in his business clothes. “Who isshe?”
He read the room in the three seconds of the conversation he’d overheard as he walked in.
“Bennett’s new girlfriend,” said my mom. “Are you hungry, Peter?”
Dad grunted. Whether it was about me having a girlfriend—though I wasn’t sure Betty would agree with that title, I didn’t correct my mom—or about whether Dad was hungry, I had no idea.
It didn’t matter. Tension tightened every muscle in my body as Dad got that calculating look when he found me in the kitchen.
“I wanted to talk to you about the store,” he told me, gesturing to the kitchen exit, then walking out and down the hallway leading to his office.
