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“I stand by my opinion.”
BB turned into the driveway of his parents’ home, effectively ending their question-and-answer session. He switched off the ignition and threw open his door without much thought. He was excited for his parents to meet Gennessey, but as he happened to glance at her before he stepped out, he realized she didn’t share his enthusiasm.
Her gaze was fixed straight ahead, and he faced forward, seeing his family home as she must see it. Two stories, gray siding, black trim, stone steps leading to a porch only big enough for two wicker chairs, an attached garage. He could see the touches his parents added to the house over the years — his mother’s flower beds, his father’s landscaping, the swing which hung from the elm tree at the edge of the property. It was home.
“You ready?”
Gennessey jumped as if she had forgotten he was there. “Uh, yeah, but…well, how are we going to play this? Do we hold hands? Are we going to kiss in front of them? What if they ask about our first date? What do we tell them? I don’t think we’re ready for this.”
“Look, say the word, and we walk in there with no pretense. You can be my coworker and friend whom I’ve invited to dinner.”
She turned her head to pierce him with an intense stare. “Friends? I’m not sure you can call us that. Not really.”
“Maybe you can’t. But I can. I count you as a friend, Gen, whether you want to be or not. It’s why I want to help you. It’s why I told the guys about it today. I wanted their advice. They weren’t gossiping or laughing at you. All of it was directed at me and how I was going into this completely clueless. They’re right. It’s not going to stop me from helping you, and however you decide to handle tonight, I’ll still help you.”
“Wow.” Her deadpan expression gave him no indication of what she was thinking. “I can see why women like you. You seem to know the right thing to say to make us feel better. Your mother must have taught you well.”
“My mother taught me to treat women with respect. I’m only considered a player because I date a lot. I know you think I treat women like they’re disposable, but that’s not me at all. Never mind. With the time we’ll spend together, I think you’ll see for yourself what I’m really like. For now, just relax. My family is going to love you. You have nothing to be worried about.”
She sighed. “I’m not worried. Just a little nervous. It suddenly became too real.”
“It’s just dinner, Gen. It’s not like we’re the ones getting married. Now, get your ass in gear. My mom’s cooking is waiting for us, and I, for one, do not want it to go to waste.”
He stepped out of his truck and managed to get over to the passenger side before she made a move to slide out. He opened her door and offered a hand to help her step down. When she hesitated, he wondered if she would refuse his chivalrous move, but she accepted his hand.
Her palm felt warm in his, and he allowed himself to enjoy the feel of her skin. Her hand wasn’t as smooth as most of the women he dated. She had calloused and rough patches which indicated a woman who knew how to work hard and play harder. He liked that. Probably more than he should considering they were playing pretend.
Once he had her attention, he almost hesitated to ask the next question, but he needed to know what she was thinking.
“What’s the plan?”
“We go in as a couple and see how it goes.”
He smiled and squeezed her hand. “You got it, sweetheart. Let’s go.”
He didn’t release her hand, and she didn’t pull away as they walked to the front door together.
Chapter Six
“Then she climbs onto the passenger seat and locks the doors. She is laughing like crazy and pointing at us like the joke’s on us because she locked us out of the car. The thing is, we’re laughing so hard we can’t stand up because she’s in the wrong car! Some dude went into the fair without locking his car, and because it looked a little like ours, Mom got in it without really looking at it first.”
Laughter erupted around the table, and Gennessey found herself joining in. The heaviness of their meal had lulled her into a relaxed state, but it was the lighthearted banter and teasing among the Beckett family which had her feeling the most at ease.
In fact, nothing about this evening had been awkward like she thought it would be. They accepted her without question, and if they were curious about her relationship with BB, they hid it well. Gennessey had a strange feeling, it was like she was meant to sit around their table and join in on their antics.
If she thought about it too hard, she probably would have turned tail and run, as her grandmother used to say, but she allowed herself to enjoy this time with this family that was unlike her own.
Though she was outnumbered in her family of men, Collette Beckett gave as good as she got, and she was respected by her husband and sons. Standing at 5’8” with a full figure and dark hair hanging only as far as her chin, she flashed a natural smile which made anyone in her presence feel like an old friend.
Her simple meal of chicken casserole with steamed vegetables, mashed potatoes and homemade rolls spoke to her culinary expertise in the kitchen, but when Gennessey complimented her, Collette quickly shared the credit with her husband.
Amos Beckett possessed many of the same features as BB, and Gennessey believed she was staring into the face of an older Brennan Beckett. He had the same dark hair, though it was thinning a bit at the back, the same eyes which sparkled with mischief and charm, the same tall, broad build, though he had more of a paunch around his middle than his son.
Amos wasn’t quite as loud or boisterous as his sons, but instead he seemed to stay quiet so he could soak in their conversation and laughter to remember and enjoy later.
BB’s brothers favored him enough that the three could have passed as triplets, and Gennessey had to wonder if they had ever pretended to be back in their youth. It was the sort of harmless prank she could picture them making.
As the oldest brother, Brody was more serious and brooding than the other two. He joined in on their camaraderie, but he could subtly rein it all in before it got out of hand. His brown eyes, a strong family trait, lacked the same spark as his father and brothers’ gazes. Brody was the type to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders without buckling under the pressure.
