Totally, Sweetly, Irrevocably(34)
“I mean, it was a good kiss.”
Nat’s eyebrow rose, and Gina’s cheeks grew warm. The realization she was blushing for the first time in she-didn’t-know-how-long made her cheeks burn hotter. Nat’s eyes grew rounder.
“Okay,” Gina said. “It was a very good kiss. Hell, he had me against the wall and panting for more.”
“And you didn’t give him more because…”
Gina frowned. “We kind of had to stop so he could go get stitched up.”
“I guess that’s kind of a mood killer.”
“You’d be surprised,” Gina mumbled.
Nat gave her a smug smile. “And now you’re going to meet his family. That must have been some make-out session.”
“He’s only taking me because his sister forced him into it.”
Nat shook her head. “Honey, one thing that I’ve learned over the years is you can’t force a man to do anything. At least not when it comes to something like that. He’s taking you home to meet his mother. I’m not saying it means anything, necessarily. But I guarantee you he wouldn’t be doing it if at least some part of him didn’t want to. His friends, maybe. Even some siblings. But this is his mother. He must like you at least a little, and probably more than a little, to introduce you to her.”
Gina dropped her head on the table, welcoming the sharp pain when her forehead made contact. “This is such a mistake.”
“Why?”
Gina turned her head enough to look up at her friend. “We aren’t together. We won’t ever be. There is no point in the whole familial meet-and-greet.”
“Oh, come on. You don’t know what’ll happen in the future. Maybe things will work out.”
“Doubtful. We’d drive each other nuts inside of a week. If it even took that long. I bet the man has never so much as drunk straight from the jug in his whole life. Can you imagine me with a guy like that?”
Nat looked her over, her smile growing as she did. “A week ago I’d have said no. Now…I’m not so sure.”
“What’s that mean?”
Nat shrugged. “Nothing. Stop worrying so much. Go have fun. It’s only dinner with some nice people he happens to be related to. No biggie.”
Gina laughed. “It does sound a little less terrifying that way.”
“See? You’ll be fine.”
Gina sighed. She hoped Nat was right.
Chapter Eleven
Rick waited outside the bakery for Gina to finish up, trying to keep his anxiety about the coming evening under control. He loved his family, more than anything. But they were loud, spirited, and except for his dad, all female, and they tended to want to be in everyone’s business all the time. They were overwhelming—on a good day when they were on their best behavior and nothing special was happening. But the only son of the family bringing home a girl? The impending third degree had him breaking out in a sweat.
He’d already told his mother in no uncertain terms that Gina was a friend and nothing more, and she had promised to try to rein in his sisters. But he knew the effort would be futile. Growing up it had been like having five mothers. Try being a teenage boy in a house with five women. It had been a weird, loving, but torturous upbringing. Some days he was still surprised he’d made it out without needing major therapy. His poor father had claimed he loved being surrounded by lovely ladies all day. But Rick was pretty sure that was just the Stockholm syndrome talking. The man had been surrounded for so long, he’d surrendered and joined the Pink Side long ago.
Gina finally came out, and all thoughts of his sisters evaporated.
“I hope this is okay,” she said. “It’s really the only semi-nice thing I have. My closet is mostly jeans and T-shirts.”
She smoothed her hands down the sides of her leather pencil skirt. A charcoal-gray shirt with sheer lace three-quarter length sleeves and a pair of black boots that encased her shapely calves completed the outfit. She’d swept her hair half up into a messy twisted knot on her head that showed off the mutli-colored streaks beneath the first layer.
“Jeans would have been fine. You look incredible, though.” He took her arm and pulled her in for a kiss.
“Nat offered to let me borrow one of her dresses but those…”
“Weren’t you,” he said, trying and failing to picture her dressed up in some flimsy sundress.
“Yeah.” She went back to gnawing on her bottom lip.
“Don’t look so worried.”
She frowned. “I’m not worried.”
“Then why are you chewing your lip?” he asked, reaching out to pull her lip from between her teeth.