He’s confused at first and then it dawns on him. “I know, but like I said, Mom’s are so much better. I might’ve put in a little request when I talked to her yesterday.”
I lightly smack his chest and turn my attention back to his mom. “I’m sorry. I hope you didn’t go through too much trouble. He was supposed to make them for me to prove he could cook,” I ramble on nervously.
“Nonsense.” She waves her hands in the air. “He actually did me a favor since I didn’t have to decide what to make.” She smiles broadly. “No
w y’all take a seat before it gets cold.”
Mike leads me to the table with his hand on the small of my back. Pulling out a chair, I sit and he takes the one beside me. Leaning in, he whispers, “Told you so,” with a kiss just below my ear. I fight the urge to shiver, but I can’t prevent the goose bumps that break out across my skin from the feel of his lips on me, his hot breath. It’s a lethal combination.
“So, Jamie, Mike tells us you’re a paralegal,” his dad says.
“Yes. I started out doing odd clerical jobs for the attorney in high school, and once I graduated he helped pay for school. I’ve been there ever since.”
“I bet it’s exciting. Something new every day?” his mom asks.
“That’s a perk of the job. Same work, but some of the dramatics from the cases keep it entertaining.”
“We’ve spent many nights laughing about what some people try to sue for,” Whitney chimes in. “Although, no matter how hard I tried, she wouldn’t tell me who it was.”
“Confidentiality,” I remind her.
“Yeah, yeah.” She grins.
“How long are you here for?” his dad asks.
I feel Mike squeeze my leg. Neither of us is liking the answer to this question. “Today, actually. I need to get on the road before one if possible.”
“Well, eat up. And next time you need to stay a little longer, or this one”—she points to Mike—“needs to learn how to share.” His mom mock glares at him.
“Not gonna happen,” he says, shoving a forkful of dumplings into his mouth.
Heat rushes over me and I can actually feel the blush creep across my cheeks. He did warn me that he was always honest to a fault.
The rest of lunch goes smoothly. Whit talks about the wedding, which has the women at the table, including me, entrapped in the conversation. Who doesn’t love a wedding? The guys talk about fishing and some other stuff I’m not real sure about as I tune them out. I’m trying to keep up with Whit’s conversation, though Mike’s hand gently caressing my thigh makes it a struggle. Not to mention I’m watching the clock; I don’t want to stay too long and end up getting back late.
Glancing at my watch, my heart sinks. It’s already one thirty. I really need to get on the road.
Mike notices and audibly sighs beside me. “Time to go?” he asks, even though he knows the answer.
“Yeah. Thank you all so much for lunch, but I really should be getting on the road. I have a long drive ahead of me.” Mike and I both stand from the table. After hugging Whit, Olivia, and Mike’s mom, I head outside to my car with him by my side.
“I hate this,” Mike says from where we’re both leaning against my car. He still has an iron grip on my hand, his thumb tracing over my knuckles. “Saying goodbye,” he clarifies.
“Not really a fan myself,” I confess.
“I hate that you drive it all on your own.”
“I’m a big girl, Mike. I can handle it.”
“You’re a beautiful woman who’s driving way too many miles on her own. It’s dangerous as fuck.”
“I’m sorry,” I say softly.
“Fuck, Jamie.” He tugs on my hand, guiding me to stand in front of him. Reaching out, he wraps his arms around me and rests is chin on the top of my head. “It’s not on you, baby. I just hate it. I worry about you.”
“I’ll text you and call as soon as I get home.”
“I’m going to miss you,” he whispers.