“Not a marriage. They never got married, but yes. He was with my mom first. My biological mom, I mean.”
“Joanne’s not your mom?”
“Joanne is definitely my mom. As much as my biological mom is. More so, in some ways. But yes, I have another mom.”
“Huh,” he said, sipping his beer as he absorbed that. “And where is she?”
“She lives in Victoria, too. Alone. She grew up there, and she never got married after her and Dad broke up. I was just a baby when that happened. I don’t even have memories of them together.”
“What’s she like?”
“Hmm. Hard to explain,” I said, wondering if I really had to. “Are you really interested in this?”
“Of course,” he said, like he was surprised I’d even ask.
“Okay.” I searched for the right words to describe the woman who’d given me life, kinda skipped out on raising me, and whom I still loved, but didn’t totally respect. “Well, she was a single mom, and she wasn’t all that great at it. I don’t fault her for that. I think being a single mom has to be about the hardest job on the planet. I was supposed to be with her half-time, but my dad and Joanne wanted me with them more than that, especially after Justice came along. He was born when I was three.”
“You’re half-siblings?”
“Yes, biologically. But he’s always been my little brother. Him and Dad and Mom… Joanne, I mean… they were my family. And honestly, Mom was always okay with that. My other mom… let’s just call her Sharon. That’s her name. Sharon never fought to see me more. I remember her dropping me off at Dad’s place even when I was supposed to be with her for the weekend or whatever. She’d last one day and then she’d take me back. She struggled to be a mom. She struggled with money even though my dad paid support. She struggled to keep jobs, to keep friends.”
“She doesn’t sound much like you,” Ronan observed.
“She’s not. I’m a lot like my dad, and his mom. Other than our matching noses, I swear, I have zero in common with my biological mom. I always got along way better with Joanne.”
“It’s nice, though, that you call them both Mom.”
“Yeah, I do. Joanne’s been there for me in more ways than Sharon has, though. And she’s been good for my dad. They’re a great couple. They’re still in love, like a couple of teenagers. They have great chemistry. I’ve caught them making out way more times than I’d like to remember.”
Ronan chuckled.
“Sharon, on the other hand… I’ve never even known her to have a boyfriend. She tries, but they never stick around.”
He considered that. “Why do you think that is?”
“Because she’s never been comfortable in her own skin, and people can sense that. She’s not all that… fun… to be around. She’s the last woman who would ever throw a party. And if she did… who would come?”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. She’s socially awkward. She’s always broke. She’s alone…”
“In other words, all the things you never want to be,” Ronan said.
“That’s very perceptive,” I said, a little uncomfortable. “Now, why don’t we talk about something else.”
He smirked a little. “Not your favorite topic?”
I sighed. “I don’t want to give the impression that I don’t love my mom. Sharon, I mean. I do.”
“But…?” he said. “I’m sensing a but there.”
“But…” I tried to put it as honestly yet fairly as I could. “Some people are a little harder to love than others.”
I gazed at the man next to me, wondering how hard he would be to love.
Not hard. Not hard at all.
Damn… I was in trouble here.
I was falling for him, already. I could feel it.
I was way too intrigued by the thought of him sticking around.
And if he was planning on turning stony on me at some point and walking away… it was gonna be fucking hard. It was gonna hurt like hell.
“Do I get to meet her?” he asked me. “Mama Sharon?”
“I suppose so,” I said, wondering if this was wise. Bringing him deeper and deeper into my life… which would only make it more difficult, more complicated, more fucking painful if things between us didn’t work out. But fuck it; I had a high tolerance for risk when it came to romance. Too high, maybe… “As long as we’re agreed that you never call her ‘Mama Sharon’ again,” I added.
He chuckled.
I took a sip of my drink. “I suppose you’ve already met Gunnar and Joanne and survived. So what’s one more parental introduction?”
“Yeah. I’m pretty confident I can win her over.” His eyes sparkled a little, and I liked that slight cockiness. It was understated, but it was there. Confidence. “If I was gonna bomb, I think it would’ve been meeting your dad where I crashed and burned.”
“Sweetheart, you impressed the hell out of him.”
“Did I?”
“You know you did. He knocked on my door, unannounced, and you answered it with your bed hair and that guilty I-fucked-the-shit-out-of-your-daughter-last-night look on your face, and he actually talked to you. The last guy he met like that, he wouldn’t even look in the eye. My dad is big on first impressions, and they are make-or-break. You don’t get a do-over.”
“Well, I’m glad I made it past his defenses,” he said. Then he got serious. “He truly adores you.”
I smiled. “I know.”
“What’s that like?”
I laughed a little. “You’ve never been adored?” I didn’t buy that for a second.
“Not by my parents, that’s for sure.”
Hmm. I considered that.
What kind of parents wouldn’t be proud of this big, strapping, alpha gentleman?
“What about that uncle of yours?” I asked him. “He seems to think you’re something special.”
“We get along well,” he said, modestly. “Always have.”
“He left his business to you when he retired. Don’t downplay it. I bet you’re like the son he never had and he’s proud as hell of you.”
“Maybe,” he admitted. “Something like that.”
The server dropped off our appetizers, and as
