Page 89 of Beautiful Killer

I turned back to her. She had her silvery-blond hair pulled back in a neat bun, and her dark brown eyes were sparkling with happiness. There was no mistaking who she was. Zeke had her hair, and her eyes. Only his didn’t sparkle all that often.

He shoved his door open and caught her up in his arms when she reached him, lifting her off the ground in a warm hug. I sat there for several seconds, stunned by the show of affection, warmed by it. I opened my door and climbed out of the car as well, and as soon as Zeke lowered his mother back to her feet, she flew at me, pulling me into a tight, warm hug. My arms immediately went around her, and I hugged her back.

“It’s so nice to meet you, honey,” she said as she stood back and took me in, and I could tell she meant it. “Goodness, you’re lovely.”

My face heated. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

She squeezed my hand. “Come on inside. You must be starving.”

I glanced at Zeke. He was watching us, and the expression on his face was one I had no hope of reading. Nothing new there.

We headed inside and Zeke greeted his dad with a handshake. His father pulled him in and they exchanged manly back thumps then stood back. Zeke had gotten his build from his father. Ron Stanton was tall and lean and despite his age, and recent heart attack, looked fit and strong. He greeted me warmly as well, but it was obvious he was a man of few words, like Zeke. I could also see by the way he looked at his son that he was extremely happy to have him home.

The whole scene was foreign to me. When my dad had come home from business trips, he’d usually gone straight to his office. I might see him at dinner, I might not. I knew for a fact he’d never looked at me the way Zeke’s parents looked at him. For some silly reason this made my nose sting and my heart hurt.

I wanted my baby to have that, with both his parents. I wanted to have the kind of relationship with my child that I’d dreamed of having with my own mother. I didn’t want my baby to miss out the way I had . . .

I glanced at Zeke. His eyes were on me. I forced a smile.

His eyes narrowed.

I wasn’t hiding a damn thing, not from him, not anymore.

“Through here,” Jane said, shaking me from my thoughts, thank goodness. I wasn’t excited about the idea of having a mini breakdown in front of Zeke’s family. She led me to the kitchen.

His mom had the table set, waiting for us, and we took our seats while she served up mac and cheese and a big salad.

“Wow, I think I’m in heaven,” I said when Zeke spooned a big helping on my plate.

Jane chuckled. “It’s Zeke’s favorite.”

I smiled at her. “Mine, too.”

She smiled warmly back, and Zeke had that look on his face again, the one I couldn’t interpret.

“Would you like a drink, Sunny, maybe a wine?” Jane asked me.

“No . . . thank you. Water’s fine.”

“It’s a celebration. Are you sure you won’t have one little glass?” Jane said.

“Oh, I . . . um . . .” I felt my face start to heat, which was ridiculous. “I’m not really . . .”

“Sunny doesn’t drink,” Zeke said.

“Oh.” His mom frowned a little. “Well, I think we can do better than water. How about some iced tea?”

I let out a relieved breath. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

The conversation flowed well after that. We chatted away all evening. Well, Jane and I, anyway. The Stanton men said the occasional thing, but mainly sat back and observed. Zeke’s mom was just so sweet and welcoming, I couldn’t help but feel guilty. She thought Zeke and I were a real couple, that her boy had found the woman of his dreams. And that’s not what this was at all. I felt safe taking a wild stab and guessing this wasn’t the way he’d envisioned his homecoming.

Then again, I had no idea what Zeke thought or felt, not one clue what he wanted.

Yes, he said he wanted to be with me, but was I willing to trust it? Risk it? Honestly, I didn’t know if he truly wanted me . . . or if he just thought it was the right thing to do.

“Coffee, honey?” Zeke’s mom asked me after we’d eaten.

I straightened in my seat. “I’ll have tea if you have it?”