Baiting Him (How to Catch an Alpha #2)(40)

I look away, trying to figure out how to tell her without making her feel bad.

“It’s my fault,” she says stiffly, and my throat gets tight when I hear the pain in her voice. “I . . . you didn’t want to tell me because you were scared of how I would react.”

“You weren’t in a good place. I wanted to tell you; I just didn’t know how to tell you. I’m sorry.” I shift uncomfortably on the stool.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. If I wasn’t acting like an idiot, you wouldn’t have felt the need to keep this a secret. I’m sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t trust me.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about either. I understood what you were going through. I’m just glad you’re dealing with things better now.” I reach across the space between us and clasp her hand.

“Your advice helped. I didn’t realize how much having to hear about your dad was hurting me. After I told all our old friends to stop telling me what he was up to, I was able to stop being angry all the time.”

“That was actually Gaston’s advice,” I say, giving her hand a squeeze before letting it go.

She tips her head to the side in confusion. “Gaston?”

“The guy I’m seeing—his name is Gaston.”

“Like the villain in Beauty and the Beast?”

“Yeah.” I laugh, not surprised that her reaction to his name is the same as mine was. “And get this: his dog’s name is LeFou.”

“I love it.” She grins. “Gaston and LeFou.” She shakes her head. “Perfect.”

“Most people call him Gus, but I agree, I love his name,” I say softly.

“Is he with his family today?” she asks, going back to mashing the potatoes.

“No, his dad passed away a few years ago, and his mom lives in Jersey and Florida, depending on the season. She’s flying in for New Year’s, but today, he’s spending Christmas with his best friend, who’s married and has a little girl.”

“You’re not seeing him today?”

I chew the inside of my cheek. “We spent last night and this morning together.” My stomach clenches as vivid memories of how we spent last night and this morning fill my mind, and I have to physically shake my head to remove them. “Plus, I wanted to be here with you.”

“You should invite him over,” she suggests, looking around at the counters covered with food. “We have plenty, since you can’t exactly buy Christmas dinner for two.”

“Um . . .”

“At least invite him for dessert,” she continues, reading my nervous expression. “I’d like to meet him.”

“I’ll send him a text.” I give in, thinking Gaston probably won’t want to drive over here, so I might have some time to come to terms with the two of them meeting.

“After you do that, I want to hear all about him.”

“There’s a lot to tell,” I inform her absently while I find my cell phone in my purse.

“We have a lot of time,” she says as I send him a quick text, telling him my mom would like to meet him—as in tonight—if he’s up for it, but it’s okay if he doesn’t want to drive over here. I also send him the address so he can see how far away it is. Approximately one minute after I press send on the text, my cell rings. “Is that him?” Mom asks, and I nod, looking at his name on the screen and wondering why he can’t be like every other guy and just send a text back. “Are you going to answer it?”

Without answering her question, I press the green button and put my phone to my ear. “Can’t you be like every other person living in this century and text back instead of calling?”

“Sweetheart.” He chuckles. “If I did that, I wouldn’t be able to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, but you’d still be able to answer my question. And just so you know, this isn’t helping you prove you’re not actually an alien,” I say, and then my head flies up when I hear my mother start to laugh. I study her face, wondering how much she can hear.

“You’re adorable, and the answer to your question is yes. What time should I be there?”

“Come whenever you want!” Mom shouts, and I groan. Apparently, she can hear everything, even him through the phone.

“I’ll be there at five,” Gaston responds, and I know he’s smiling. “I might be there before, depending on traffic.”

I look at the clock on the wall. “That’s in less than an hour.”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“Is Luke going to be upset that you’re leaving so early? Have you even eaten yet?”

“No. And Luke won’t give a shit.” He laughs. “Are you nervous about me meeting your mom?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you worry too much.”

“Whatever,” I grumble, and he laughs again.

“All right, sweetheart. I’ll let you go and send you a text if I feel like I have something to tell you.”

“Liar.” I smile. “Tell Luke and his wife hi for me.”

“Will do, but just so you know, Luke and Cammy want to meet you. And Cammy said if it doesn’t happen soon, she’s going to just show up at your shop one day.”