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“It’s true,” he says, smiling right back.
Hell. I smile, too.
They are damn cute together.
“My apologies, by the way,” I say, gesturing at my uniform. “I’m sure I smell like burger grease. If you’ll excuse me a few minutes, I’ll go change.”
“Oh, sure!” he says. “Go on.”
“Yeah, honey,” Mom says. “There’s still time before dinner.”
“Great,” I say, taking a quick step back toward the stairs. “I’ll be really quick, I swear.”
“Take your time,” Richard says. “We’re still waiting for one more to arrive.”
“One more?”
“My son, Richard Jr,” he says. “He should be here any minute. He’s about your age, actually. You two should get along.”
“Oh, great,” I say, smiling politely. I’d mentally prepared myself to meetonenew person tonight, nottwo. “I’m sure we will.”
I rush up the stairs. As I reach my bedroom, I quickly peel off my uniform and drop it in the hamper by the closet. I push past the T-shirts and jeans, electing for something a little nicer to throw on, given the occasion. I land on a simple yellow sundress and a white cardigan; possibly the last opportunity to show off the fun summer gear until next spring.
I stop by the bathroom to wash my face, re-do my makeup, and run a brush through my auburn locks, then I’m ready to head back downstairs.
Halfway down, I hear my mother laugh. Not an uncommon thing; she can be quite giddy sometimes. But this one sounds different.
She’s happy. Content.
A woman in love.
I approach the living room on light feet and peek inside. She and Richard are sitting on the couch again. Their bodies are close enough to touch, their knees brushing casually. He whispers something that only she can hear. She laughs again. He smiles, adoring her. Loving her back.
It makes me think of Riley. The two of us sitting on his couch, singing. Laughing. Kissing.
The doorbell rings.
I hop back before they notice me gawking at them. “I’ll get it!” I say, pivoting toward the door.
All right. This isn’t so bad. Just have to make it through the next few hours, make nice with Richard and his Junior, and then I’m free.
Maybe afterward, Riley will be free as well.
My heart skips at the thought, but I keep my excitement at bay as I open the front door.
“Hel—” I pause, my welcoming smile slipping as I look into his blue eyes. “Riley?”
Riley blinks twice. He’s wearing a nice pair of black pants and a navy blue sweater, looking more like an office worker than the bartending musician I met last night. Still handsome, though. Still perfect.
But why is he here?
He blinks twice from the porch. “Hey,” he says, his brow furrowing with confusion.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, just as confused but happy to see him.
Riley glances around the porch. “My dad told me to meet him here.”
“Here?”
