Flirting with Forever: A Hot Romantic Comedy(28)

An unexpected surge of nervousness swirled through me. I didn’t usually mind social situations with strangers. I liked meeting new people and I was comfortable with small talk.

But something about the intimacy of a family barbecue was oddly intimidating.

Maybe I’d make an excuse and cancel. It wasn’t like they’d miss me.

What was wrong with me? I wasn’t meeting my boyfriend’s parents, desperately hoping they’d approve of me. It was just Dex and Riley. And I’d met his parents already, so what was I worried about?

Still, I second-guessed my outfit, trying on different combinations, until I finally circled back to the clothes I’d already chosen.

No one had told me what time to come over, but the party was clearly in full swing. So I grabbed a bottle of wine—my favorite, a dry Riesling from Salishan Cellars—and headed out the back door.

The shrill laughter of children filled the air and a few women milled around Dex’s backyard. My stomach tightened with nervousness but I tousled my hair and pushed the sensation aside. This was just a casual get-together at a neighbor’s house. Nothing to fear.

Riley came out the sliding glass door, looking adorable in a cropped t-shirt and ripped jeans. Maybe it was my imagination, but she looked straight at me, as if she’d come outside specifically to see if I was on my way over yet.

She smiled and ran to meet me. “Hi. You made it.”

It hadn’t escaped my notice that she always seemed surprised when I showed up, as if she hadn’t been expecting me to follow through. “Sorry if I’m late. I thought this was a dinner.”

“Oh, yeah.” She glanced over her shoulder. “My family seems to think dinner starts right after lunch. I guess they just like to hang out.”

That was rather endearing. “I love that. How was your sleepover with your friend last weekend?”

She shrugged. “It was okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” She grabbed my hand. “Come on, I want to introduce you to everybody.”

I recognized the way she’d said fine. It meant something was wrong but she wanted to avoid the topic. As much as I wished I could stop and dig into it with her, she led me to her backyard, right into the middle of her family.

“Grandma,” Riley called. “Nora’s here.”

Gillian was dressed in a blue floral blouse and trouser jeans. Her chin-length bob was exquisite on her, highlighting her eyes and cheekbones perfectly.

“Nice to see you again.” I held up the wine. “Should I give this to you, or go in search of your son?”

“I can take it for you.” She took the wine with a smile. “I’m glad you made it. I hope we’re not too intimidating for you.”

“Not at all,” I lied. It felt like everyone was watching me. “I’m excited to meet everyone.”

“These are…” Gillian hesitated, gesturing vaguely at the hoard of small humans running around. “My grandchildren. I’m hoping the bounce house will be a good outlet for their energy and they’ll calm down by dinner.”

“Yeah, right,” Riley said. “My cousins are cute but they’re all crazy.”

Two women approached, both with a striking resemblance to Gillian, although they had eyes like Dex.

“My daughters, Angie and Maggie.” She pointed to another woman standing outside the entrance to the bounce house, apparently supervising. “That’s my daughter-in-law, Tori.”

“The men are all inside,” Angie said. She had long hair in a simple ponytail and wore a black t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops. “I’m sure they’ll be out soon to stand around the grill and talk about cars and football.”

“And pretend the kids don’t need supervision in that thing,” Maggie said, gesturing to the bounce house. “Are your boobs real? Because you’re stunning and I’m wondering how much it costs to look that good.”

Riley put a hand over her mouth to cover her giggle.

Angie rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, Maggie.”

I just smiled. “They’re all mine. Good genetics. My mom has a fantastic rack.”

“You’re so lucky.” Maggie cast a rueful glance at her own chest.

“You’ll have to excuse my daughter,” Gillian said. “Being the youngest makes her think she can get away with saying anything.”

“We were all thinking it. I’m just the one brave enough to say it. And no offense, Mom. It’s not your fault my boobs are sad.”

“You can blame your grandmother St. James,” Gillian said. “The women on my side of the family are well endowed.”

“It’s really more about how you dress them.” I stepped closer to Maggie and unfastened two of her buttons to show a bit more skin. Her shirt was too baggy, so I reached around and cinched it at the waist behind her. “See? Your boobs look better already.”

“She’s right,” Angie said. “That shirt just got about ten times cuter.”

A man in a polo shirt and cargo shorts came outside with a beer in his hand. He paused, his eyes on Maggie, and blinked a few times. “Wow, babe. Were you wearing that earlier?”

Maggie looked down at herself. “Yeah.”

He licked his lips and shook his head before coming down the steps onto the patio.