Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 99012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“I’ve never met anyone’s mother, Christian.”
“Like ever? You’ve only ever met young people?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
Christian stepped back toward me and rubbed my shoulders. “Alright, talk to me. What makes you nervous about meeting her?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Everything?”
“Do you think you could be a little more specific?”
“Well, what if she doesn’t like me?”
“Stop overthinking it. She’s going to love you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I like you. And my mother wants me to be happy. Plus, I’ve never introduced her to a woman I was dating before, so she’s going to be excited to meet you.”
My eyes bulged. “Do you think you’re making me feel better by telling me you’ve never introduced anyone to her before? That’s even more pressure. What if she says hello, and I dive into a diatribe about the advances in cryptography algorithms?”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because you know how I get when I’m nervous.”
Christian grinned. “Yeah, I do. You’re adorable.”
“Christian…” I glanced over his shoulder and saw his mom walking toward us with a big smile. “Oh my God. She’s coming...”
Christian turned, and his mother held her arms out. “There you are!” She hugged her son for a long time, then looked at me. “You must be Bella?”
I glanced at Christian, and he read the confusion on my face. “I texted her while you were getting ready to let her know I was bringing someone.”
I gave him a sugary smile that did not match the evil eye I also gave him. “Oh. I’m glad she knew.” I held my hand out to his mom. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Knox.”
She opened her arms and brought me in for a hug. “It’s Priscilla, please. I’m so excited you’re here. Christian usually keeps his personal life so quiet. Do you do that? I feel like girls probably share more with their moms.”
Since I probably looked like a deer in the headlights, Christian intervened. He put his arm around his mother’s shoulder and lifted his chin to the man standing next to her. “Before Mom smothers Bella, let me introduce her to Officer Knox.”
Christian’s brother had a warm smile as he extended his hand. “Tyler. Nice to meet you, Bella.”
“So, Mom, what’s the deal with the proposal? Is it going to be before dinner or after?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure. Why?”
Christian looked at his watch. “Because it’s almost six now here, but it’s already almost eight back in New York, and I have practice in the morning.”
His mother frowned. “Can’t you skip that just once?”
He looked over at me. “I would, but the new owner’s a tyrant.”
Priscilla’s frown deepened, but then she caught the joke. “Oh.” She laughed. “I forgot you said Bella was the new owner. But doesn’t that mean she can give you permission to stay a little longer and miss one practice?”
“That’s more of the coach’s decision, Mom. But I need to be at practice. I’ve missed too much being out with my knee already.”
A woman in a white shirt, black slacks, and a black vest walked over. “Mrs. Knox, a guest has arrived who is on the guest list, but we can’t find a seating card for him. Would you help us figure out where we should put him?”
“Of course.” She turned to us. “Duty calls. I’ll be back. Your brother is running a little late. He should be here in about fifteen minutes. Tyler, come help me with the seating chart, please?”
“Sure, Mom.”
I let out a sigh of relief as they walked away.
Christian lifted a brow. “Was she that bad?”
“No, not at all. She was very sweet. I’m just…nervous.”
Christian took my hand. “Come on, let’s go get some air before Jake gets here, or someone else cramps us, and you wind up high-tailing it out of here.”
We walked down a hall at the back of the restaurant, and Christian opened the door at the end. He slipped something out of his pocket and stuck it between the lock and the doorjamb to keep it from closing, and suddenly we were in a small, covered courtyard.
“Is that the card you brought your brother stuck in the door?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“It’s getting all wrinkled. Why don’t we find a rock or something?”
Christian waved me off. “He won’t give two shits if it’s wrinkly with a little lock grease. At least not after he sees the gift I got him. Knowing what a wuss he is, he’ll probably cry.”
Christian hadn’t brought a present or anything with him from the plane that I’d noticed. “What did you get him?”
“A dollar.”
I chuckled. “A dollar is going to make your brother cry?”
“It’s a special dollar.”
“What makes it so special?”
“It’s our victory dollar. When we were eleven or twelve, we were number one and two on the middle school track team. Any given week, we’d beat each other’s records. We’re super competitive and physically pretty similar, so the number-one spot flip-flopped a lot, based on heart. One day, when we finished track practice, we both saw a buck on the grass at the same time. We dove for it and wound up ripping it in half.”