"Not a chance."
"First, I didn't agree to stay with you. Second, even if I did, there's no way I'd tell my parents. Do you have any idea what will happen? When my mom meets you, she'll act cool, pretending it's no big deal. But in truth, she'll be secretly shopping for wedding invitations and china patterns. She'll call daily, dropping hints and asking obscure questions. Before you know it, there will be a Pinterest board. She'll tell all her friends that I finally landed a man, and her weekly girl's night out will turn into strategy sessions on how to get me hitched. Then we have my dad. Oh God, my dad." She takes a deep breath, looks to the ceiling, and blows it out. "He will have the complete opposite reaction. He will flip, and I don't mean in the general 'Dad' way." She air quotes and shudders dramatically before continuing.
"Dozer Rhodes will not be happy. He was so convinced that I'd lost my mind when I bought this house that he offered to buy it and move me back to Atlanta. He's been quiet these last few weeks, and I suspect it is my mom putting him in his place because only she can handle him. Regardless, he hears I'm moving in with a man who he thinks I recently met, it will not be pretty. Unlike Mom, he won't see it as me meeting a wonderful guy who swept me off my feet."
"You saying I swept you off your feet?"
"His first instinct will be to shoot you."
"I have a daughter like you, I'd want to shoot me, too."
"This is not funny. My dad was a sharpshooter in the Army. His gun collection is his second pride and joy behind his family."
"And his name is Dozer?"
"His legal name is Grant, but he goes by Dozer, as in a bulldozer. A name he picked up in the service."
"Any particular reason?"
"Oh yeah, he earned the name."
"Good to know. Your dad has a right to be worried about you. Quitting your job, buying a house, and moving to a new city all alone? He needs to see for himself you haven't lost your mind, and even more, he needs to know you've got a man in your life who’s going to take care of you. That's why I need to meet him."
"No, that's exactly why you don't need to meet him. This is too new. Our history is complicated enough without bringing my family into it."
"Princess, we may be new to those around us, but we know the truth. I'm a man who knows what I want, and I want you. It's not fair to keep your family in the dark. They deserve to know what's happening and not be blindsided. We’re moving forward together, and I'm thinking about the future here."
"You're thinking about the future?"
"Fuck yes."
"What kind of future?"
"Are you ready for that kind of reality?"
"I think I have to be."
"The sort of future that will thrill your mom to death."
Her eyes bulge at the same time she let's out a high-pitched, "We started dating yesterday!"
"I've been paving the way for a few weeks, so I'm a little ahead of you. And, baby, considering what you gave me yesterday, there's no way you're getting away from me."
"I think I need to lie down." She sifts her fingers through her hair and massages her scalp. "Maybe I have lost my mind. Did we leap through time at warp speed?"
"We get through the meeting, call your parents, come back here and tear shit up, and get back to my house tonight. Tomorrow, things will slow down."
"I'm staying here tonight."
"Baby, you don't have cable."
She scrunches her nose, looking at me sideways. "So?"
"Monday Night Football."
I see the argument brewing in her brain, and before she can say anything, I beat her to it. "You want to fight me on this you'll be on your back, and I'll find other ways for you to use your mouth. Then it will definitely be worn jeans and an oversized sweatshirt, your call."
She flings her head back and groans into the room. "Put me down."
I bend in, kissing the column of her throat, and gently set her on her feet. She mumbles while yanking her robe off a hook and hurrying around me.
"Hey, Princess?"
She doesn't answer, but her footsteps stop.
"If your mom wants to plan the wedding before you're wearing the ring, it's fine with me. And if your dad brings his gun, I'll watch my back."
"ARG!!!!!!" The bathroom door slams.
I smile, going to her coffee maker at her side table and popping in a pod, then assess the room. She was correct that she's cramped in here. Suitcases, bags, boxes, rolling wardrobe hangers, plastic storage containers, shoe racks, the bay window still loaded with stacks of papers and miscellaneous items. Even with the bed, Pierce and I can get this moved in one load.
I head out to my truck for my toolbox and the packing supplies I threw in this morning. It doesn't take long to stack the storage bins in the front room and move the fridge to the back porch. By the time the shower shuts off, the French doors to her room are off the hinges and leaning against the wall.
I take her coffee to her bathroom and knock, twisting the knob and grinning when it's locked.
"Go away."
"Let me in."
"Nope."
"Good thing I planned for this," I mutter, taking the pick out of my pocket and working the lock.
She's in her robe, towel drying her hair when the door creaks open and her eyes come to me. "Brought you something, gorgeous." I set the coffee on the vanity and back away with a wink.
The sun is rising when she appears with a full face of makeup and hair dry. She stops, taking in the open doorway, the bins, and landing on the pile of packing boxes and tape in her room. Without a word, she takes her phone out of her purse, grabs
