Page 63 of Dirty

“Never have been, no. I like it, though. I mean, with you. It’s pretty cool.”

“Pretty cool? Yeah.” She chuckled. “You’re cute.”

I shrugged.

She held out her hand. “C’mon. Let’s go get this over with.”

I followed her into the living room and sat down on the couch beside her. Since we had dinner together, it seemed that she was much more comfortable being in my presence. Seeing her comfort allowed me to relax a little, but everything was still new to me, leaving me feeling inexperienced and awkward.

With her, every day was like the day that preceded a big fight, the day before Christmas, or the day before a big family gathering.

I was apprehensive and excited at the same time.

I liked it.

“Nobody laugh,” her mother said as she walked into the room. Still angry about her visit to the clubhouse, I looked in her direction with a tight jaw and my fists clenched.

Carrying a platter of cookies, she stepped in front of us. “Fresh baked. Have a few.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing?” Alexandra asked. “Cookies? Really? Are we twelve?”

“You like my cookies,” Lucy said.

Alexandra rolled her eyes and reached for the platter. Upon seeing the cookies, her eyes widened. “Ooh. Macadamia nut and white chocolate. Okay. I’m twelve again.”

She grabbed three cookies and placed two of them on her bare leg. While nibbling the one she held, she motioned toward the platter.

“Seriously. They’re awesome.”

My mother made cookies infrequently when we were kids. When she did, my sister and I would devour them in no time.

I followed Alexandra’s lead and grabbed three cookies. “Thank you.”

She set the platter on the coffee table, grabbed a cookie, and sat down in the chair across from us.

I bit into one of the cookies.

Holy shit.

I had to commend her on her decision to bake cookies and propose them for a peace offering. They were that good.

Alexandra looked at me. “Good, huh?”

Almost done with the second cookie, I nodded. “Uh huh.”

“There’s no sense in rehashing what I said this morning,” her mother said. “But there are some things I want to say.”

I poked the rest of the cookie into my mouth, looked at her, and nodded. “Okay,” I said over a mouthful of cookie.

“I reacted like any mother would react. I was protecting my daughter, or so I thought. I realize now that there’s nothing I need to protect her from.” She looked at me. “Is there?”

“Mother!” Alexandra hissed.

I wiped my hands on the thighs of my jeans, and then set the last cookie down on Alexandra’s leg beside the other.

“I’m not going to hurt your daughter,” I said.

Her eyebrows raised. “That’s reassuring,” she said in a sarcastic tone. “What else would you say?”