Reading Online Novel

Every Kiss(100)



“Hi, beautiful.” Wes steps forward to kiss my forehead. “Wow. You’re gorgeous.”

My eyes drift over him from top to bottom. He’s still in his suit, but without the jacket, and he looks as ridiculously delicious as he always does. “Hi, you’re not too bad yourself.”

“Are they here?”

“Yes,” I whisper, leaning in enough to catch a hint of his cologne. The dark, musky scent makes my heart skip a beat or two. “But I haven’t told them yet.”

“Damn it, Callie.” Letting out an irritated sigh, he narrows his eyes before peering past me into the cracked door. “Throwing me to the wolves, eh?”

“Oh, kiss my ass. You’ll be fine. Let’s get this over with.” Just as I’m turning back toward the door, he grabs my elbow and pulls me back just enough to snag my lips in a fiery kiss.

He smirks when he releases me. “God, I’ve missed that big, opinionated mouth,” he growls hungrily, reminding me of when he told me that before.

Before I get myself in big trouble by jumping him right here on my porch, I bump the door open with my hip and step inside, grabbing Wes’ hand as I go. I drag him toward the kitchen while Mom and Dad watch in astonishment. “Mom. Dad. I want you to meet Wes . . . uh, Wesley Baxter.”

Wes reaches out to firmly shake both of their hands while they exchange greetings. He speaks to them easily, with an unnerving amount of confidence. “Please, call me Wes. It’s nice to finally meet you both.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. We’re just getting ready to set the table for dinner. I hope you like lasagna.”

He rubs a thumb just under my wrist, sending chills all the way up my arm. “That sounds great. Would you like some help?”

Mom’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. I know the feeling. “Oh, no, but thank you. Callie and I will take care of all of that, and you two guys can sit here in the living room and talk.” A.K.A. I want Callie alone, so I can dig for details and so Dad can size him up.

I barely turn into the dining room before Mom corners me just inside the door, gripping the tops of my shoulders. “Who is this guy? Are you dating him? Why haven’t you told me?”

“He’s Wes. I think so. And I just haven’t thought about it.”

Both eyebrows raise over her widened eyes. “You think so?”

“I mean, yes . . . it’s sort of a new thing, so I haven’t really put a label on it yet. It’s not something we’ve discussed.”

“Hmm,” she says, twisting her mouth to the side. “So when you didn’t come home Saturday night . . .”

No sense in lying about it. “I spent the night with him.”

“So it’s serious?”

“Yes.”

She sighs. “You’re going to give your dad a heart attack. He’s been dreading this day since you were born. He knows you’ve dated and all that, but this is the first guy you’ve really brought home. This is big.”

“Don’t start naming your grandchildren,” I throw in her earlier quote. “Just give him a chance. If Dad gets to know him, I think he’ll be just fine. Wes is a good man.”

“How old of a man is he exactly?”

“Don’t freak . . . he’s twenty-six.”

She just stares at me blankly.

“Just five years older, mom. He has a great job, has his own house, and he has an amazing, supportive family. You’ve met his brother, you know. Shane? Makenna’s boyfriend?”

Her mouth falls open slightly. “I like Shane. He’s a very polite young man, but he’s not twenty-six, Callie. Please just tell me he isn’t married with kids.”

“Uh . . . he’s divorced.” I’m not even going to broach the subject of kids because I honestly don’t know the answer. I really need to talk to him about that.

“Callie!”

“Mom, just get to know him. Please don’t make assumptions.”

“Okay, fine,” she sighs, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “I’ll try.”

She doesn’t say another word while we set the table, but the deep murmur of voices echoing from the living room is reassuring. It seems like he and my dad are getting along, at least. I even hear my dad chuckle a time or two.

When Mom calls them into the dining room, it all becomes a little too real. Wes sits next to me, and my parents sit across from us, like we’re about to be interrogated. No, I know we’re about to get interrogated. Polite conversation begins as soon as we’re seated, and continues while we’re passing dishes around. And I just almost start to believe they’re going to behave.