Me: Can’t. Mom wants me to try a new restaurant with her tonight. She’s an obnoxious foodie. : (
Ryle: I like food. I eat food. Where are you taking her?
Me: A place called Bib’s on Marketson.
Ryle: Is there room for one more?
I stare at his text for a moment. He wants to meet my mother? We aren’t even officially dating. I mean . . . I don’t care if he meets my mother. She would love him. But he went from not wanting anything to do with relationships, to possibly agreeing to test-drive one, to meeting the parents, all within five days? Good God. I really am a drug.
Me: Sure. Meet us there in half an hour.
I walk out of my office and straight up to Allysa. I hold my phone in front of her face. “He wants to meet my mother.”
“Who?”
“Ryle.”
“My brother?” she says, looking as shocked as I feel.
I nod. “Your brother. My mother.”
She grabs my phone and looks at the texts. “Huh. That’s so weird.”
I take my phone from her hands. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
She laughs and says, “You know what I mean. It’s Ryle we’re talking about here. He’s never, in the history of being Ryle Kincaid, met a girl’s parents.”
Of course hearing her say that makes me smile, but then I wonder if maybe he’s doing this just to please me. If maybe he’s doing things he doesn’t really want to do just because he knows I want a relationship.
And then I smile even bigger, because isn’t that what it’s all about? Sacrificing for the person you like so that you can see them happy?
“Your brother must really like me,” I say teasingly. I look back up at Allysa, expecting her to laugh, but there’s a solemn look on her face.
She nods and says, “Yeah. I’m afraid he does.” She grabs her purse from beneath the counter and says, “I’m gonna head out now. Let me know how it goes, okay?” She moves past me and I watch her as she makes her way out the door, and then I just stare at the door for a long time.
It bothers me that she doesn’t seem excited about the prospect of me dating Ryle. It makes me wonder if that has more to do with her feelings toward me or her feelings toward him.
• • •
Twenty minutes later, I flip the sign to closed. Just a few more days. I lock the door and walk to my car, but stop short when I see someone leaning against it. It takes me a moment to recognize him. He’s facing the other direction, talking on his cell phone.
I thought he was meeting me at the restaurant, but okay.
The horn beeps on my car when I hit the Unlock button, and Ryle spins around. He grins when he sees me. “Yes, I agree,” he says into the phone. He wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me against him, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he says. “Something really important just came up.”
He hangs up the phone and slides it into his pocket, then he kisses me. It’s not a hello kiss. It’s an I’ve-been-thinking-about-you-nonstop kiss. He wraps both arms around me and spins me until I’m backed up against my car, where he continues to kiss me until I start to feel dizzy again. When he pulls back, he’s looking down at me appreciatively.
“You know which part of you drives me the craziest?” He brings his fingers to my mouth and traces my smile. “These,” he says. “Your lips. I love how they’re as red as your hair and you don’t even have to wear lipstick.”
I grin and kiss his fingers. “I better watch you around my mom, then, because everyone says we have the same mouth.”
He pauses his fingers against my lips and he stops smiling. “Lily. Just . . . no.”
I laugh and open my door. “Are we taking separate cars?”
He pulls the door open for me the rest of the way and says, “I took an Uber here from work. We’ll ride together.”
• • •
My mother is already seated at a table when we arrive. Her back is to the door as I lead the way.
I’m instantly impressed by the restaurant. My eyes are drawn to the warm, neutral colors painted on the walls and the almost full-sized tree in the middle of the restaurant. It looks like it’s growing straight out of the floor, almost as if the entire restaurant was designed around the tree. Ryle follows closely behind me with his hand on my lower back. Once we reach the table, I begin to pull off my jacket. “Hey, Mom.”
She looks up from her phone and says, “Oh, hey, honey.” She drops her phone in her purse and waves her hand around the restaurant. “I already love it. Look at the lighting,” she says, pointing up. “The fixtures look like something you’d grow in one of your gardens.” That’s when she notices Ryle, who is standing patiently next to me as I slide into the booth. My mother smiles at him and says, “We’ll take two waters for now, please.”
My eyes dart to Ryle and then back to my mother. “Mom. He’s with me. He’s not the waiter.”
She looks up at Ryle again with confusion. He just smiles and reaches out his hand. “Honest mistake, ma’am. I’m Ryle Kincaid.”
She returns the handshake, looking back and forth between us. He releases her hand and slides into the booth. She looks a little flustered when she finally says, “Jenny Bloom. Nice to meet you.” She places her attention back on me and raises an eyebrow. “A friend of yours, Lily?”
I can’t believe I’m not better prepared for this moment. What in the heck do I introduce him as? My trial run? I can’t say boyfriend, but I can’t very well say friend. Prospect seems a little dated.
Ryle notices my pause, so he puts his hand on my knee and squeezes reassuringly. “My sister works for Lily,” he says. “Have you met her? Allysa?”
My mother leans forward in her booth and says, “Oh! Yes! Of course. You two look so much alike now that you mention it,” she says. “It’s the eyes, I think. And the mouth.”
He nods. “We both favor our mother.”
