by Stacey Lynn
“What?” Her head whips around right as two people I’d totally forgotten were coming appear on the patio. They haven’t seen us, as one of them is talking to the host, but I’d be the biggest ass in the world not to invite them over. “Who is it?”
Groaning, I push off the table to stand and lift my hand in the air. “My parents are here.”
Chapter 14
Willow
“Mom! Dad!” Trey shouts the invitation, hand waving in the air to get his parents’ attention, and yet I suddenly feel like a frog has leapt right into my throat.
His parents? His friends were one thing. But his mom? And dad? How could he not have told me?
“Trey!” A happy woman, obviously his mom, exclaims, and I turn back to Trey, suddenly thankful I ordered the large blue drink.
Trey’s head dips and his eyes meet mine. There’s a deep furrow between his brows and his arms are tense on the table. “I’m so damn sorry. I totally forgot they were coming.”
“It’s okay,” I mumble. The sun had been making me warm. My desire for Trey had done the rest, but now I feel pale as a ghost. It’d been a long time since I met a man’s parents, and to meet them here? At a wedding? When I’m not really even dating the guy?
Awkward.
“Hey there, sweetie.” I push back from the table right as a woman with Trey’s same dark hair, cut and landing straight at her shoulders, reaches us. His mom. She hasn’t noticed me yet, too focused on pressing her palms to Trey’s cheeks as she lifts to her toes and kisses him. “How are you? It’s so good to see you.”
“Good, Mom,” he smiles down at her and pulls her in for a quick hug, immediately sliding her to his side and reaching for his dad’s hand. “Dad, good to see you. How’s it going?”
“My balls are already sweating from this damn heat. I tell you what.”
Oh. My. God.
Trey drops his dad’s hand, smirking and gesturing to me. “Dad, Mom, I’d like you to meet Willow. My girlfriend.”
You could have heard a pin drop for the silence that fell at our table, cutting through the noise of the resort.
I lift my hand lamely and catch Trey’s dad’s cringe. “Shit,” he mutters. “Greg Kollins, pretty lady. Nice to meet you, Willow, and sorry about that.”
“No problem. It is hot here.”
Greg booms a hearty laugh and slaps Trey on the back. “See you found a good one.”
I blush from my roots at my scalp down to the tips of my toes. Trey mouths so damn sorry right before he guides his mom forward. “Willow, Diane Kollins. Mom, Willow.”
“Well,” his mom says, smile stretching from ear to ear. “Aren’t you just the prettiest thing. It’s lovely to meet you, Willow.” Before I can hold out my hand to shake hers, I’m wrapped in a hug that’s more warming than the sun and more delightful than I’ve been given in months from either of my own parents. I pull back before emotions take over.
“You, too.”
Her hands curve around my shoulders and she inspects me. Her green eyes dancing back and forth between mine, glimmering in a strangely excited way. “That son of mine. All of them, actually. So lost in their heads they never tell me the good news. So you spill—how long have you been dating my son?”
“Oh, well.” My eyes skip to Trey and this is not something we’ve discussed, but I’m not jumping into this one.
“Not long, Mom.” He guides us back to the table where we take our seats. I take a giant drink from my daiquiri.
Diane props her elbows on the table and tilts her head to the side. “How long is not long?”
Trey’s unease increases by the minute. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to lie to his mom and I can practically see gears turning in his head, debating.
“I- I- I…” His cheeks blush a furious hot pink that has nothing to do with the sun. My heart pitter-patters as he collects himself, and I study Diane. Clearly for her, that stutter of his says it all because her look is all knowing. “Fell for her the minute I saw her.” His gaze meets mine, lips pressed together in a way I know he’s trying to finish what he’s saying without more stuttering, but the way he’s looking at me steals my breath. “Months ago,” he finishes quietly and before I’m thinking about what I’m doing, my hand is at his knee squeezing him, supporting him, and falling for him at the same time.
“Well, isn’t that lovely?” Diane says, and I don’t miss the sheen of tears in her eyes as she turns to her husband. “Isn’t it, Greg?”
He’s studying the menu and looks up when Diane shoves his shoulder. “Oh? What? Yeah…damn lovely, Diane. You sure are.”
I barely contain my laugh. The man is cluelessly hysterical.
“Thanks, dear,” Diane says rolling her eyes. She leans over his shoulder and scans the menu and we’re saved from further interrogation when the waitress reappears and takes their orders, delivering our appetizers at the same time.
The rest of lunch passes with relative ease. Diane tells me more about Ian, the engineer son in Seattle, and Vance, the hippie surfing in Australia. I get lost in conversation, the way she playfully teases Trey and the sons not here to defend themselves. Greg joins in, with frequent, but no less hilarious, inappropriate jokes. It’s so easy to see how Trey became the man he is because his parents might be a bit insane, but they’re some of the loveliest people I’ve ever met. I can imagine Trey growing up in their small home, a house probably filled with laughter and messes no one could bother to clean up, but the kind of mess that says the home is lived-in and lively all the same. Mostly likely fistfights with his brothers, but way more hugs and appreciation for all they have. And through it all, parents who were stable, probably lost their minds occasionally, but gave way more kisses and support than they did anger or ignoring.
Essentially, I’m beginning to think Trey had the perfect childhood, and I’m envious of him.
We’re finished eating, the stories coming to a close, and I’m halfway through my second daiquiri when Diane pushes her plate away, setting her napkin neatly on top. She turns to Greg, whose arm is flung around his wife’s chair, his other hand gripping a beer bottle in that manly way only men can pull off. “We should leave the lovebirds alone, dear.”
She hasn’t mentioned Trey and me together since lunch started, and I’ve all but forgotten that they think we’re dating.
“We’re not…” I start and stop. We’re not what, exactly? I’m having a hard time remembering anymore.
“Oh, pishposh. I know young love. We’re fully aware of what goes on beyond closed doors.”
“We have separate suites,” I blurt. Did I say that? I did. Diane chuckles and rolls her eyes like she doesn’t believe me. I bet there’s a hole on the beach I can crawl into and hide.
“With an adjoining door,” Trey completely unhelpfully supplies. He shoves his thumb in my direction, grinning like the asshole I’m learning he might actually be. “Which she opened.”
I dig my fingernails into his thigh until he hisses. Bummer for me, though, because there’s a lot of muscle there. Firm, taught. Ugh. This lunch is suddenly a disaster.
“I don’t blame you one bit there,” Diane chirps. “These Kollins men have it going on. Forty years this man’s been rocking my world.”
“Mom…” Trey groans and scrubs his face. “Stop…”
Finally, he’s regaining his common sense.
“I mean, your poor Great-Aunt Sandra,” she continues, and winks at me. “That poor woman, she confessed to me one day she’d never had an orgasm. Can you imagine? All those years, eighty-two of them before she passed, and no pleasure…” She shakes her head side to side and tsks twice. “That poor, poor thing.”
I have no words. None. They’ve evaporated into the salty air. I reach for my drink and guzzle down the rest of my second daiquiri. Great, now I’m going to be drunk and having to listen to Trey
’s insane parents. At least there hasn’t been any more talk of sweaty balls.
“Mom. Stop. For the love…”
“Well that’s what I’m talking about—love.” She sips her wine and smiles. “And like I’ve been telling you for years, it’s perfectly natural.”
“I’m going to stab my ears with a fork.” Trey turns to me and cringes. “Can you do it for me? Both of them, really quick. Just stab harshly.”
I smile at him sweetly and grab my knife in my hand, holding it toward him. “Funny, I was thinking of stabbing you somewhere else for the adjoining-room comment.”
“I like her,” Greg says, and lifts his beer in Trey’s direction. “But seriously, Diane, can we head back to our room? My balls are so damn sweaty they might fall off.”
* * *
—
We’re now a good quarter mile down the beach, leaving Greg’s sweaty balls and Diane’s incessant sex talk back at the restaurant. After quickly saying our goodbyes, we saw them head toward the bar for more drinks. I already pity the poor fools who will have a chair next to wherever they sit.
“My mom,” Trey says and swipes a hand down his face. It’s about the only thing he’s said other than so damn sorry while we’ve walked the beach side by side, our shoes kicked off and dangling from our hands.
“I was really thinking poor, poor Great-Aunt Sandra.”
He huffs a laugh. “Shit. My God. I don’t remember them being that bad before, but holy shit. Where did that conversation jump the shark, exactly?”
I never want to replay that conversation in my mind again, but I still think about it. “I think when you said we were dating.”
“Right. The beginning. Well that was fucking awesome, wasn’t it?”
It was horrifically embarrassing. And fun. I’ve never laughed so hard or cringed so much in my life. “It was perfect.”
“You’re as nuts as the rest of them, then.”
“My dad barely joined us for family dinners. He never came to a dance concert of mine. He never saw me cheer. The one year I ran cross-country, he came to one meet, saw the beginning, and left before I finished…and won. Trust me, Trey, as embarrassing as your parents are—”
“They’re the most embarrassing people ever.”
“True, but they love you and it shows. You’re lucky.”
“I’m going to go buy muzzles for both of them before the wedding tomorrow.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“But I hear what you’re saying, and I told you they were awesome on the plane. I thought they’d be smart enough to filter their crazy the first time they met someone I’m dating, though.”
It rolls off his tongue so easily and yet for me, it sticks in the air, flashing like a neon light in the dark of night.
Dating? We’re not even really doing that. It’s just a weekend, right? “Right. Well, still. I think they’re great, sweaty balls and all.”
Trey groans and I bump my hip into his. He’s not expecting it so it throws him off balance, and to steady himself, he throws out his arm, wrapping it around my waist.
Before I know it, I’m up and over his shoulder, my hair and the sand the only things I can see besides the backs of his calves. “Trey!” I’ve dropped my sandals and I curl my fingers around the hem of his shorts.
“Put me down before you’re mooning everyone on the beach.”
“Won’t happen. These babies are secure.”
A quick tug proves he’s right so I slap his butt.
“Oh yeah,” he groans teasingly. “Harder, baby.”
“Shut up!” I’m squealing and the blood is rushing to my face. I have no idea where he’s going but laughter echoes around us, telling me we have an audience. “Put me down!”
“Not until you promise never to remind me my dad said that!”
I mean…it’s funny. “What will you do if I don’t?”
“Throw you in the ocean.” As he says it, the water laps at his feet, brushing up around his ankles. “Will you say it again?”
There’s no way he’d throw me in, would he? He knows I’m not a fan of it. “Can I have a minute to think about it?”
He bends his knees and shifts, and I cling to his legs. “Don’t you dare!”
“Five seconds,” he says.
I can barely think with all my blood in my brain. I push my hands against his hips and lift up. And yep. People are watching us. Kids and a whole bunch of women, but I suspect their view is more focused on Trey. I give a jaunty wave to them.
“Four.”
“You won’t. You wouldn’t dare dunk me in the ocean.”
“Three. You sure about that?”
He takes another step forward and the water is now at the backs of his knees. I slap them. “Trey!”
“Two.”
“Don’t you—”
“One.
“Dare!”
He leans forward, tosses me. I scream, imagining the worst, but at the last second he catches me and swings me around so I’m clinging to him like a starfish. All limbs wrapped around him for dear life.
His grin is salacious. Sexy as hell, and before I think about what I’m doing, I press my lips to his. My breath is ragged, from the flipping and screaming and laughing I’ve done so much of today, but mostly, it’s just Trey and the square jaw and the muscles bulging beneath his shirt. The way his hands are resting high on my ass and his mouth slides over mine before he kisses me firmly.
“Don’t keep talking about my dad’s balls,” he mutters. There’s a glimmer in his eyes that makes him so much more attractive to me. I can’t help it.
I’m falling for this guy. One little unwelcomed step at a time.
“I won’t. I promise.”
“Good.”
I pull out of his arms and kick water at him. It takes a moment to gather my thoughts as a few drops of water run down the ridge between his abs. “For the rest of the day.”
“Woman.” He leaps for me but I jump out of the way. I take off running, dodging kids and sandcastles, and it’s not long before he catches me, wraps his arms around my stomach, and pulls me to his chest. “You are lucky there are kids and families all over this beach or you’d be naked on your back right now.”
A full body shiver rolls down my spine and he laughs in my ear. “That’s right. It’s happening.”
Well, lucky, lucky me.
Chapter 15
Trey
Hot damn, I want her. Few women would go a round with my insane parents and not be running as far away as possible after. But even for them, they were in top form today. A part of me sat there wondering if my mom was testing Willow. She’s never been this outlandish before.
Or maybe she simply lost her marbles at the idea of me having a girlfriend and went a bit nutty. Hopefully by tonight she’ll have it out of her system and go back to being semi-normal. I’ll definitely spend some time this afternoon praying for it to happen, anyway.
And Great-Aunt Sandra? I’m not even sure that woman exists. At least I’ve never met her, but Mom likes to drag her name out every once in a while. Like she’s some sort of cautionary tale for women who are too proper and pure to enjoy living life right.
Or something. Who knows? My mom’s lack of a filter and penchant for telling a great story is legendary among all my friends.
Regardless, I love the way Willow handled herself. She might have been uncomfortable, but the girl definitely has a spine of steel when it comes to standing on her own two feet and it’s more attractive than anything I’ve ever seen.
“Come on. I think I’m ready to get out of the sun for a bit. Are you?”
I haven’t given her the day on the beach I wanted to but lunch ran longer than I expected. We only have a few hours until we have to get ready for Caitlin’s rehearsal dinner.
Before Willow can answer, I fling her into my arms again. Her hair splashes across my cheek as she throws her hands to my shoulders, then around my neck. I’m carrying her like she’s my bride and she doesn’t seem to mind.
“Yes, but you forgot one thing.”
“What’s that?”
She points to somewhere over my shoulders. “Our shoes.”
“Fine,” I grumble and set her to her feet. We hurry back over to where we dropped them when I flung her over my shoulder and I grab hers before she can. With my other hand, I take hers and start walking back toward the resort, careful of sandcastles that will be washed away by high tide later this afternoon.
“Do you mind if we stop back by the bar and have a bottle of wine sent to our room again? That is, if we have time.”
I’ll give her anything she wants this weekend. “I’ll call room service when we get there. Your room or mine?” Her hand squeezes mine and I don’t even know if she realizes she’s done it. But I definitely do, along with the small hitch in her step. Could have been a stumble over the sand, but with the way her cheeks and throat flush, I’m betting it’s all me.
I’m essentially telling her that anywhere we’re going, it’s together. The door connecting the rooms? It’s staying open.
“Mine,” she says softly, and it’s almost a whisper. I still hear it like a gong. “If that’s okay.”
“Anything you want, Willow. Anything you want.” I hope like hell she gets my meaning there, too.
* * *
—
By the time we reach her room, my cellphone is buzzing like an adult sex toy. It’s been going off and on since lunch, but I haven’t been bothered enough to check it. I can no longer ignore the constant vibrating against my left asscheek, though.
“I have to check my phone,” I say, pulling it out of my pocket. My screen alerts me to twenty-two text messages and my jaw drops. Holy crap.
“I should check mine, too,” Willow says, but I’m barely hearing her in my haste to unlock my phone. “Call my mom, maybe.”
