Until November (Until, #1)(22)

“It was what I said about you being ‘too much.’” He didn’t ask, it was just a statement. I nod my head because I can’t talk. “You’re beautiful when you laugh. Not too many women would get tackled to the ground by a dog, even their own, and laugh about it, definitely not in front of a man. That’s why I said you were too much. I love that you don’t care what people think and that you act like yourself around me. I'm sorry that your mom is a bitch. I bet that she’s jealous of you so she cut you down, hoping you would always feel infer to her. Hopefully, we can work on filling all the marks she left,” he says softly. His fingers wipe away my tears. I feel it down to my soul. The words that he said feel true but then I remember that I can’t trust it or believe him.

“I can’t do casual,” I blurt out. I wanted to cover my face or go hide in the bathroom. Instead, I close my eyes. His body is shaking so I open my eyes and he’s laughing. “What’s funny?” I ask, irritated.

“Do you think I would try that with you, knowing that your dad, uncle, and cousins would come to kick my ass if I wanted something casual?” he asks, searching my face.

“Ugh…” That never crossed my mind.

“This isn’t casual. Christ!” He growled. “You’ve met my brothers, mom, dad, and grandma. No woman I’ve ever dated has met my whole family. I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you in the club, hanging on your dad. That’s why I was pissed when I caught you outside. Then when I saw you with my grandmother, I knew I was f*cked. She’d been talking about you for weeks, telling me that I need to meet this girl that’s so beautiful and sweet. She told me that she just moved into town and I should ask her out before someone else did. She was right. I realized yesterday that I needed to stake my claim before some stupid f*ck got to you. That’s why I did what you called ‘kidnapping.’ I like to call that ‘securing my future.’ We’re going to see where this goes, November, and while we’re doing that, it’s not going to be casual.”

“Okay,” I say, feeling excited and a little scared from the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes. I can tell he’s dead serious.

“Okay.” He kisses me softly. “And just so you know, if your mother ever comes to visit, I won’t be nice.”

“I don’t think my mother will ever come to town.” I’m looking over his shoulder at the same time as I’m praying that I’m right. I truly hope my mother never shows her face in this town. My dad would flip and my grandmother would probably shoot her.

“Alright, now we need to get up before Ma comes in here. She’s worried about you after what happened last night and the look on your face when you walked out of the kitchen. Let’s go have breakfast then go meet your dad at your house.” As if Asher summoned it from thin air, my phone started playing Highway to Hell, my dad’s ring tone. Asher stands, bringing me with him, then walks to his jeans on the floor and pulls my cell out of his pocket and hands it to me. I turn around and put my phone to my ear.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hey, baby girl. How are you feeling?”

“Um, I'm good. I'm getting ready to feed Beast and then I'm going to eat breakfast with Asher and his mom.”

“His mom is there?” he says, sounding surprised.

“Yeah, she came by this morning. Mr. Mayson told her about what happened last night and I guess she wanted to make sure I was alright.”

“Hum,” I hear my dad say then he’s quiet.

“Dad, you still there?”

“Yeah, I'm here, baby girl. So what time are you going to be home?”

I turn and see Asher leaning against the door, watching me. “What time do you think we’ll be at my dad’s?” I ask him.

“In about an hour and a half, baby,” he says softly. I feel a small smile touch my mouth at the word baby.

“Asher says about an hour and a half.”

“I heard him, baby girl. Can you put him on the phone for me?”

“Um, sure. Hold on. Dad wants to talk to you,” I say to Asher, holding out my phone. He slides it from my hand and kisses me on my nose then takes a step back, putting the phone to his ear.

“Mike,” I hear him say. “Yeah, we’ll talk when I get there.”

Then he hands the phone back to me. “Dad,” I say, hoping that with the tone I'm using, he understands that I'm not being stupid.

“See you when you get here, baby girl. Love you.” He hangs up before I can tell him I love him too. Asher is watching me.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, looking at the phone.

“It’s all good, baby. Let’s eat.”

“Okay,” I say, feeling dread creep up my spine. I knew Dad was going to say something to Asher when we got to the house and I was suddenly nervous about going home. We walk back into the kitchen and Mrs. Mayson is standing at the stove.

“Do you like grits?” she asks with a smile. I have no idea what grits are and she must have read the look on my face.

“Okay, how about some eggs and toast?”

“That’s fine. Thank you, Mrs. Mayson.”

“Call me Susan, beautiful. Mrs. Mayson makes me feel old.”

“Okay. Do you have a bowl I can use to put Beast’s food in?” I ask Asher. He gets up and walks around the island to pull out a huge bowl. The kind that you would use to make cookies or bread in. He fills the bowl to the top. I watched this in horror, too stunned to stop him. I always measured his food so he doesn’t eat too much. I read online that you have to be careful with big dogs and their diets.