Just Let Me Love You (Judge Me Not #3)(24)

I know Mom didn’t hear us leave the house or return, as we were extra quiet.

Seeing my confused expression, she says, “I noticed the rental car was moved.”

“Aah,” I remark.

Mom’s still not satisfied. Tapping one manicured fingernail on the counter, she says, “I also noticed my brie is missing from the refrigerator. And two champagne flutes are gone from the china closet.” She raises an eyebrow. “Were we perhaps celebrating something?”

Mom would flip if she knew Kay and I got married last night. Kay suspects my mom will have this reaction, as well, so the poor girl quickly hides her sure-to-give-us-away expression by raising her glass of juice to her mouth.

“Sweet girl,” I mutter, chuckling. “Don’t worry. I got this.”

Turning to my mother, I say, “Kay and I were just having a little bubbly and some cheese to celebrate this being her first time in Las Vegas.”

“Oh, really?” Mom replies, skepticism coloring her tone.

“Yes, really,” I retort dryly.

I have no intention of divulging that Kay and I got married last night. Abby is going to have a coronary as it is when she discovers we did things the way we did. She’s all about big weddings and lots of fanfare. But really, our way was the best for us. This love I share with Kay is so personal that I don’t really care to have a crowd of people there to witness all our raw emotions.

Of course, I’ll have to get over that issue before the church wedding. Hopefully, I can delay that event for as long as possible.

Just then—and fortuitously saving all of us from any further discussion about last night—Will waltzes in.

“Hey, guys,” he says nonchalantly as he grabs the OJ. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” Mom replies. “How was your time at Cassie’s?”

Before Will can answer, I cough. “I bet you two crazy kids had lots of fun.”

My tone is full of suggestion, and Will shoots me a did-you-have-to-go-there look.

“Dude,” he says.

I’m not trying to be a dick to my brother, so I throw him an apologetic smile. My intent is for my mother to stop treating him like he’s ten years old. Mom also catches sight of my gaze, and her eyes grow soft and wounded.

Shit, she wants me to give her a chance to do the right thing. Okay, okay, I think as I give her a look that conveys I’m about to back off.

With the momentary rough spot behind us, Mom directs her attention to Kay. “Honey,” she says to my girl, “would you like to come to lunch with me tomorrow afternoon? It would give us some time to talk, and I was just telling Chase that I think we should get to know each other better.”

“Uhh…” Kay looks to me for guidance, but I just shrug. This decision is totally up to her.

When Kay sees I don’t care either way, she tells my mom, “Yeah, okay. Sounds like fun.”

Turning to me, Will interjects, “Hey, Chase, since Kay will be out with Mom, do you want to do something tomorrow, just us?”

I wait for Mom to chime in with, “Oh, aren’t you going to include Greg,” but then I am informed that Greg is leaving late tonight for a three-week business trip in Phoenix.

Sigh of relief. Hate to say it, but I’m kind of glad he won’t be around the house. Greg is a nice enough guy, sure, but he’s too hands-off in the parenting department.

“I’m sure we’ll find something fun to do,” I say to Will, and then, because I know it gets him all worked up, I reach over and ruffle his dark-blond hair.

Will swats me away. “God, you are such a freak,” he mutters.

But really, he likes the big-brother attention.

The remainder of Sunday is uneventful; we all just laze around the house. In the evening, Mom announces she wants us all to watch a movie in the family room.

“Before Greg has to leave,” she says, eyeing me with hope in her gaze.

Sorry, Mom, I think before I decline the invitation. Movie nights used to be a big thing for me, my mom, and my dad, but that was like a f*cking thousand years ago. Greg is not Dad, and I won’t pretend he is.

Mom is disappointed, but she gets over it quickly enough. Especially when Sunday rolls into Monday and noontime arrives. It’s lunchtime for the girls, and let’s just say Mom is chomping at the bit to get rolling.

“Kay, are you ready?” she calls out loudly from the hallway as she’s knocking on our closed bedroom door.

I roll my eyes and try to catch Kay’s gaze from where I’m seated, leaned back against the headboard. My wife, though, is too busy in front of the mirror, adjusting her cute, floral strapless dress. She pays me no heed.

Hmm, I know what will get her attention…

“Good thing I don’t have you bent over that dresser,” I say in a low, suggestive tone.

“Chase!” Kay motions to the closed door. “Hush, before your mom hears you.”

“Like I care,” I scoff.

Mom knocks again, and this time Kay steps away from the dresser and opens the door.

“I’m ready,” she announces brightly to Mom, who peeks in nosily.

I give my mother a wave from my spot on the bed. Thank God Kay and I actually decided to make the bed earlier. It was a wreck from a torrid morning, and I wouldn’t have wanted the sight to scar Mom for life.