Page 12 of Resisting His Charm
“Texas.”
“What the fuck is in Texas?”
“A friend.”
My mom squints her eyes, assessing me. “What friend, Sammie J?”
“One you don’t know.”
“You know I have ways to find out. You might as well tell us,” she reminds me.
My mom is one of the best assassins in the country. There isn’t anyone she can’t find. I have no doubt she already knows who I was with last night.
“I’ll tell you when there is something to tell,” I say and then turn back to my dad. “You busy this morning?”
“This have anything to do with the package Alfie has on ice for you?” he questions.
“Yep.”
“I’m not busy,” Mom chimes in.
“Me neither,” Imogen says.
“You’re not invited,” I tell my sister.
“Don’t be sexist. I can torture someone just as well as you can,” Imogen retorts.
“I’m aware. But this one isn’t for you.”
“I’ll come. Let’s go.” My dad stands. He kisses my sister on top of her head and then wraps my mother up in his arms and presses his lips to hers. I watch as my mom melts into him.
I don’t know if I ever want that, what they have. The risk of loving something that much isn’t one I want to take in life. It’s worked out for my parents, but I always wonder what’s going to happen when one of them dies. Because we’re all destined to do that at some point, which means one of them will have to face life without the other. And when that time comes, it’s going to be fucking hard to watch.
My dad climbs into the passenger side of my car. “What’s in Texas?” he asks as soon as I’m pulling out of the driveway.
“A woman.”
“It’s always a woman.” He laughs.
“She’s… different,” I admit. I don’t know what it was about Poppy, but I’m not about to walk away from the best fucking sex of my life. If I have to fly to Texas to have her one more time, I will.
“Who’s the guy on ice?” Dad presses.
“Some tool Imogen went on a date with,” I tell him.
“You don’t usually have an issue with your sister dating.”
“I do when the asshole puts it into her head that she needs to lose fucking weight,” I grunt, my fingers tightening around the steering wheel.
“He what?” My dad’s head spins to mine. “That’s what breakfast was about?”
“Imogen didn’t eat dinner last night. I wanted to make sure that skipping meals wasn’t becoming a thing for her.”
“You think she let this asshole get into her head?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t think so,” I say, but I’ll be keeping a close eye on my sister to make sure she doesn’t start to believe she isn’t perfect just the way she is.
The moment we pull up to the warehouse, I’m ready to get my hands dirty. Although, judging by the look on my father’s face, he’s going to have all the fun here.
