Her legs were weak as she took one step at a time to him. Her gaze never left his face because no one had ever said those words to her. She knew she’d never felt it before, but if the feeling she felt when she was with him was love, she wasn’t falling, either. “I don’t know how it’s possible, but you’re on my mind every second of the day. When I’m not with you, I’m counting the minutes to when I will be and there’s this feeling right here,” she said and touched her chest. “That grows every time we’re together.” She stopped right in front of him. “I’m in love with you too.”
When she landed on the step below him, he took her hand that lie on her chest and put it to his own. “I feel it too.” Hank leaned down and kissed her, soft and sweet, taking his time roaming her mouth. He would have taken it further but the dinner tonight was long overdue and needed to be done. But after dinner…
* * *
Hank shoveled a bite of meatloaf into his mouth and spoke around chewing. “Nah, things have been pretty calm lately.” He finished chewing and swallowed before he told his dad, “Just the normal shit, loose pussies, bitchy old women, and temperamental chickens.”
Henry snickered, Arissa choked on her water. Even though they saw the humor, Catherine did not when she chastised, “Hank!” She placed her fork on the edge of her plate and finished, “Watch your mouth.”
Tossing a piece of homemade biscuit in his mouth, he talked around it. “Thirty-six, Ma, remember that.”
Catherine narrowed her eyes before she said silkily, “Doesn’t matter your age. Manners are manners and I taught you better than that.” Her gaze drifted to Arissa. “And we do have a guest.”
Arissa had sat quietly through the meal, watching the dynamic between Hank and his parents. She had taken time dressing for dinner. Saw the dress in a shop window on Main Street, the floral print sundress with dipping neckline and asymmetrical ruffled hem. Her hair was up; diamonds winked at her ears and on her feet were silver strappy-heeled sandals. She’d wanted to make a good impression. Despite her first encounter with Catherine, her hope was they’d come together over what they shared and that was their love for Hank. That wasn’t the case, though. Catherine was polite, painfully so, but she had yet to refer to Arissa by her name, calling her only a guest. She didn’t feel like a guest; she felt about as welcomed as a migraine.
She turned her focus on Hank, who was already looking at her, a grin playing on his mouth, a mouth she had plans for when they got back to his place. She intentionally baited Catherine when she said, “He’s serious.” Her eyes lit with mischief. “There’s a lot of pussy wrangling in town. It’s got to be exhausting.”
Henry began to cough, his green bean going down the wrong pipe. Hank leaned toward his dad, chuckling, and patted him on the back. Henry raised a hand to motion he was okay while he reached for his glass of water.
Catherine let out an exaggerated huff and tossed her napkin onto her half eaten plate, muttering, “I’ve lost my appetite.”
Hank grumbled, “Stop it, Ma.” Then he looked at Arissa again and grinned, leaving her eyes with a wink of his.
Arissa lowered her head to hide her smile. She should feel badly about upsetting Catherine, but for someone who had invited her to dinner, she hadn’t been at all gracious. Two wrongs didn’t make a right, though, so Arissa lifted her gaze to Catherine and tried, once again, to stir conversation with her. “This meatloaf is delicious. We did a contest for the magazine, and this would have definitely been featured.”
Catherine turned her focus on Arissa, her face smoothing out, a little smile touched her lips but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you, dear.”
Despite her words, Arissa felt a chill so reached for her biscuit and took a big bite so she didn’t have to talk again.
Henry placed his glass on the table, reached for his fork, and asked nonchalantly. “So, Hank tells us you’re going to do some spread about his house in the magazine you work for?” Even though the words came out with ease, there still was a hint of tightness around them.
So much for not having to talk.
At the mention of the magazine, Catherine let out a breath before pushing her plate aside.
Arissa’s attention jerked to Catherine and her odd reaction. Reaching for her water, wishing it was wine, she took a sip before turning her focus on Henry. “Yes, his place is amazing, but it’s the juxtaposition of the home and the man behind it that I want to focus on.” Her gaze turned to Hank and warmed. “It’s going to make a hell of a feature.”
“Seems to me that will draw unwanted attention,” Catherine said, dropping her elbows on the table. “I thought you didn’t like all the attention.”
Henry agreed with Catherine on a hum and turned to Hank. “Yeah, what’s up with that?”
Hank was enjoying his dinner, loved his mom’s meatloaf but suddenly it sat like a brick in his gut. He pushed his plate farther from him and laid his elbows to the table. “I didn’t, but why not share my pride and joy with the world.” He shrugged. “What’s the big deal?” Then he turned to Arissa. “Beer?”
She was tempted to crawl over the table and kiss him. Alcohol…perfect. “Yes, please.”
Hank rose. “Dad?”
“No, I’m good, Son.”
Hank started for the kitchen when his cell rang. He grabbed it from his pocket, looked at the screen and informed the room. “Gotta take this, be back.” He disappeared down the hall and out the front door.
Arissa felt her jaw drop; stared at the door Hank disappeared through leaving her alone with his
