They all watched as Tesha took a hesitant step forward, craning her neck for a sniff. She must’ve deemed Iris trustworthy, because she took another step closer, then another until Iris was able to give her bony head a scratch.
“She’s a little underweight,” Iris said when she stood tall again.
“It’s a long story,” Brantley explained. “But she’s in a much better place now. The weight will come in time.”
Iris nodded, understanding glittering in her eyes. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“We thought we’d eat on the back patio,” Brantley informed them. “Since it’s a nice evening.”
“That would be lovely. Why don’t you and your father properly dish the food. We will not be eating out of Styrofoam. Reese and I will carry out the drinks.”
“Be nice, Mom,” Brantley warned, although he said it more to help Reese along than anything. One would’ve thought he was going before a firing squad, not meeting his future in-laws for the first time.
That thought had Brantley pausing as he lifted one of the Styrofoam containers out of the sack. That was … not where he’d thought he would be going so early in this relationship. But oddly enough, and for the first time in his entire life, the idea of marriage didn’t scare the hell out of him. Of course, he’d never considered it before, wasn’t even sure it was on his life’s to-do list. There was no denying Reese Tavoularis had thrown him for a loop from the moment he met the man, so it made sense he was thinking long-term, right? If you’ve got something good, grab it with both hands and hold on tight.
“Somethin’ wrong, boy?” his father asked in that grumbling tone that the Walker men were well known for.
Brantley shook himself back to the present. “Not at all, Pop. Somethin’ wrong with you?”
Frank laughed that easy laugh Brantley was used to hearing from him. “Can’t say there is, no.”
They dished up the food onto plates his mother would approve of, then carried them outside, where his mother and Reese were already sitting. The instant Brantley stepped outside, Reese was on his feet, assisting by taking a plate, setting it in front of Iris. Once they had everything situated, Brantley took a seat beside Reese, reaching over and patting his thigh as reassurance.
“I heard a rumor you helped out my nephews a few years back,” Iris said casually once everyone had started to eat.
Reese paused, his fork suspended in midair. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Your nephews?”
“Wolfe and Lynx Caine,” she noted. “They live in Embers Ridge.” She smiled kindly. “It’s where I grew up. With my two brothers.”
“Oh, yes, ma’am,” he said, still stumbling over his words a bit. “I still talk to them every now and again.”
“Good boys, those two,” she tacked on. “A little rowdy, but good nonetheless.”
“And your momma?” Frank inquired. “How’s she doin’?”
Once again, Reese appeared tongue-tied.
“Keep in mind, my folks are part of the fabric of this town,” Brantley said, hoping to ease some of Reese’s obvious discomfort. “They know anyone and everyone who’s ever lived here.”
“Your folks are good people,” Frank continued. “I was sure sorry to hear about your father.”
“I … uh … yes, sir,” Reese muttered, staring wide-eyed at Frank.
Iris reached over, patted Reese’s hand. “Relax, child. We don’t bite. I promise.”
Brantley leaned toward Reese, lowered his voice. “Not like I do.”
The choked laugh he got was the turning point.
Thank goodness.
***Reese wasn’t sure he’d ever been more uncomfortable in his entire life. It sort of reminded him of the first time he had launched his ass out of an airplane. He’d been terrified but determined not to show it and intent on completing the task. Similar to how he felt now.
He had attempted to psych himself up for this dinner, but no amount of muttering had helped. Plus, even if it had, all that would’ve gone right out the window the minute Iris and Frank Jr. walked in the door. Why Reese was intimidated, he didn’t know but he was. Intimidated and insecure, two traits he wasn’t all that familiar with.
Then again, meeting the parents wasn’t something he did on the regular.
Or ever.
“My mother’s doin’ well,” he heard himself say, though he wasn’t sure where the words were coming from because he was pretty sure his brain had gone offline in a desperate attempt at self-preservation.
“And your brother and sister?”
“Good. Both of ’em are up in Dallas.”
“Not sure if you know this or not, but your sister dated our youngest in high school,” Iris said.
Reese stopped chewing, stared at Brantley’s mother. “Really?”
“One for the record books, that relationship.” She smiled sweetly. “All of three days.”
Brantley and Frank laughed.
“Evidently, Cal was smitten with her back in high school although he was a senior and she a sweet-faced freshman.”
How the woman could remember that far back, with so many kids, so many memories, he didn’t know.
