She quickly stood, and he took her hand, guiding her outside with his dad in tow.

  “Gonna get some fishin’ in while you’re here?” Dad asked.

  “Yeah. Figured Sunday afternoon I can take her out on the boat.”

  “Oh, I brought the cutest swimsuit. I can swim while you fish.”

  Dad laughed and Bryson smiled at her. “No swimming in that lake, darlin’. Too many stumps and snakes. You can swim at the lake we’re going to tomorrow, though.”

  She paled. “You want me to fish?”

  His lips twitched at how nervous she got again. “It’s not hard. I’ll bait your hooks and everything.”

  “But if you catch it, you clean it,” his dad said with mock authority.

  “Dad,” Bryson said with a chuckle as he unlocked the car. “Don’t say stuff like that.” He glanced at Taylor, who looked completely grossed out. “You don’t have to do that. Just reel them in. If you don’t want to do that, you can wear your suit and get some sun while I fish.”

  She nodded and exhaled loudly as if she’d been holding her breath. The two guys got all the bags and toted them into the house. Taylor followed along and rushed in front of them to grab the door. “That’s my job,” he murmured and kissed the top of her head as he walked past her.

  He had started up the stairs to his room when his mom came into the entryway. “Bry, you know where your room is. Butch, you can take Taylor’s things to the first-floor guest bedroom.” She looked at Taylor. “It’s a suite, so you’ll have your own bathroom.”

  Taylor opened her mouth, but instead of responding, she looked to Bryson.

  Oh shit. What was he supposed to say? He hadn’t thought about them sleeping in two separate rooms. He frowned and looked at his mom. “There are too many people here for her to have her own room. She can stay in mine with me.”

  His mom waved a dismissive hand. “Oh nonsense. We have six bedrooms in the house, not to mention pull-outs in the den and office. Plus, Tucker is the only one staying here besides the immediately family. Even if some of the others want to bunk here, we have plenty of room even with her staying down here.”

  He quickly tried to think of another point to argue in his favor but came up blank. His mom was old fashioned, so it was something he probably should’ve prepared for. He’d just assumed it’d be packed with people claiming all corners of the house. Them sharing a sleeping space would’ve freed up more room elsewhere for others.

  He nodded once at his mom but couldn’t help the sigh that escaped, knowing his playtime with Taylor had just been quashed. Sneaking around to get a little alone time probably wouldn’t happen either with all the family festivities that had been planned. The moment they snuck away they’d be missed.

  He dropped his bag and took the one of Taylor’s his dad was carrying. “C’mon, babe. I’ll show you where it’s at.”

  She turned stiffly beside him.

  “I’ll take your stuff upstairs, son,” his dad called out.

  “Thanks,” he said over his shoulder. He pushed the door in and kicked it shut behind them.

  He didn’t have to look at her to know she was pissed.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t just say I’d sleep in the room with you,” she whispered heatedly.

  Fuck, he didn’t want her mad about this. He put the suitcases on the floor and her smaller bag on the bed. “What did you want me to say?” he asked, crossing his arms.

  “Oh, I don’t know. How about, ‘You want my girlfriend to sleep in another room like it’s the fifties? Thanks, but no thanks, Mom.’ Yeah, that would’ve worked just fine.”

  He blinked. She couldn’t be serious, could she? Her red cheeks were proof positive that she was. Her red hair and Irish heritage made it easy for her to blush with many emotions.

  And to get pissed off easily. Not that he’d tell her that.

  “Look, I wish it wouldn’t have gone down like that. Obviously, I didn’t think this would happen. If I did, I’d have given you a heads up.”

  “What?” she whispered, and the tone actually made his balls shrivel. “You have no idea how messed up that is, Bryson.”

  “How do you figure? You’d prefer I would’ve not said anything had I known?”

  She scoffed. “That’s not what I mean. The fact that your instinct is to do what your mommy tells you, and not stand up for what you or your girlfriend want, that’s what’s so fucked up!”

  He shook his head. “You’re getting all worked up about nothing, baby. We’re still going to see each other all day, everyday.”

  She threw her arms up. “That’s not the point.”

  “Then tell me what is. I honestly don’t see what the big deal is here. Hell, it’s not like we live together and sleep together every night anyway.”

  The bright color of her cheeks drained. “Get out,” she said flatly.

  His mouth fell open at her words, and he tried to figure out how he could get out of this mess without digging the hole any deeper. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  She laughed without any humor. “Doesn’t matter. You clearly don’t give a shit if we sleep together at night or not.”

  “Come on, babe. We can still be together. We can do everything and anything we want. You won’t even realize I’m not there when you’re sleeping.” She ground her teeth, so he tried another tactic to lighten her mood. “I can still have you naked and beneath me.” He didn’t know how well that would work, but he’d do whatever he needed to for her to feel better about this.

  Her eyes popped. “Did you really just offer me a booty call? What, I’m good enough to fuck in secret but not good enough to sleep with out in the open?”

  Okay, that hadn’t worked at fucking all. “No. Shit, Taylor. I’m just trying to make the best out of a bad situation.”

  “I think you’ve done enough for one night. Better run along before it’s your bedtime.” She turned toward the bathroom.

  “Baby,” he breathed, walking toward her. He’d almost reached her when she slammed the door in his face.

  He groaned, banging his head against it.

  This was definitely not how he’d planned on tonight going.

  Chapter Three

  Taylor lay in the bed the next morning after a crappy night’s sleep, wondering how this weekend had gone to shit so quickly.

  Oh that’s right. My boyfriend’s a momma’s boy.

  Was it fair to think of him like that? Probably not, but she was still too mad to be rational. Seriously, what grown man didn’t stand up to his mom? It wasn’t as if the two of them hadn’t stayed the night at each other’s places or even gone on vacation together. Sleeping together when they were away with one another had never been an issue before.

  Until now.

  One tiny part of her knew it was the gentleman in him that wouldn’t talk back to the woman who brought him into this life, and if she had to admit it, she still found that courtesy instilled within him charming.

  Except when it was working against her.

  Did he honestly expect her to be okay with his family pushing her off into a room by herself in a home she wasn’t familiar with and surrounded by people she didn’t know?

  And that comment he’d made about still wanting to screw around? Jesus, he was lucky to have made it out of this room alive last night. Why didn’t he just tell his family she was a big ho-bag.

  Apparently that hadn’t been necessary. His mother had obviously jumped to her own conclusions about their relationship. If they’d been married, Taylor seriously doubted the sleeping arrangements would’ve been an issue. Bryson’s girlfriend was good enough to play around with, but not shack up with?

  This trip was turning into a nightmare.

  She groaned silently as she looked around the room, her sight landing on decor littered with spurs and horseshoes. It was a different way of life down here. Living in Arkansas had given her a taste, but where she lived, she could be at any store, restaurant, or business district within fifteen minutes. The last fifty minutes of their trip had been single lane highways and dirt roads with no place to stop for her to pee. This was real country living. No doubt about that. But she like being exposed to different ways of life. Maybe not ones centered around stinky barns, but she had no problem being open to them. Up until last night, she’d been enjoying the idea of being exposed to this other side of Bryson’s life, even if her friends tried to freak her out about the meaning of it

  Now, she was counting down the seconds until she could return home.

  Staying in bed all day wouldn’t make this any easier, though the appeal was almost too great to reject. Mustering up her resolve, Taylor got up and hit the shower. “In my own private bathroom,” she mocked with fake enthusiasm. Whatever.

  She took as long of a shower as she could without her fingers pruning. When she got out, she took her time drying her hair, applying her makeup, and getting dressed—cutoff jeans and a thin tank top over her bikini. She’d been looking forward to Bryson’s reaction to it.

  Now she just hoped he suffered seeing her scantily clad. Why should she be the only one miserable?

  Unable to stall any longer, she unlocked the bedroom door—because if Bryson had tried to get his booty call last night, blood would’ve been spilled—slipped out of her comfortable prison, and made her way to the kitchen, following the noise of voices and soft laughter.

  When she entered, they quieted. She saw Bryson stand up at the far end of the table, but she threw her shoulders back with an air of confidence she did not feel, smiled to everyone in general, and said, “Good morning. I hope there’s coffee,” as her boyfriend made his way to her.

  “Hey,” he said softly and bent to kiss her. She turned her head at the last second, so his lips landed on her check.

  “Hi.” At least he still thought her worthy enough to show affection in front of his family. Then again—she glanced at the table before heading to the coffee pot—his mother wasn’t in the room. That didn’t mean Taylor was willing to kiss and pretend she wasn’t still mad at him.

  Bryson pulled a cup from the cabinet and she took it without looking at him. She poured heaping amounts of sugar and creamer—not caring if it was healthy—and had just grabbed the coffee pot when Bryson reached for it. He dropped his hand but stayed beside her.

  “I hope the bed was comfortable,” Butch said from across the room. She stiffened and Bryson’s hand rubbed small circles on her lower back.

  She moved away from the comfort of him and smiled at the older man still seated at the table. She made her way over to it, making sure to sit closer to the coffee pot and away from where Bryson had been earlier. “It’s lovely,” she lied smoothly before taking a sip.

  Bryson pulled out the chair right next to her and sat. Of course he wouldn’t go back to his seat from before. She didn’t know why she’d even tried sitting away from him.

  “Caterers are on their way to the lake. Mom headed there this morning,” he said softly from beside her.

  She gave a noncommittal sound and took another drink, cupping her coffee, letting it warm her hands. It was late summer, but it had to be sixty degrees in this house.

  “We were gonna head over there as soon as you were ready,” Brent said.

  She smiled at him. “You didn’t have to wait on me, but I’m ready whenever you all are.” She took a hasty drink of her coffee since it was going to be a luxury she’d have to do without today. Hell, it was barely ten o’clock. She’d been up for two hours, true, but it was still technically morning.

  And mornings required coffee.

  She put the cup down and stretched, encouraging the blood flow in her extremities.

  “We can stop and get some coffee on the way there,” Bryson said softly.

  She dropped her arms and plastered a fake smile for him. “Not necessary.”

  Standing, she reached for her cup, but he was quicker at grabbing it. She finally looked at him, and he gave her a sad smile. She could see that he felt bad about their fight, but she wasn’t ready to let it go. As long as she was staying alone in that room, she knew she wouldn’t.

  That didn’t mean she was going to be a bitch. No reason to make everybody else feel awkward.

  Only Bryson.

  After all, if she had to feel uncomfortable, so did he.

  “Dad’s riding with us,” he said after rinsing out her cup and putting it in the dishwasher.

  She was A-okay with that. If she had to be alone in the car with her boyfriend right now, she couldn’t promise screaming wouldn’t be involved. “Sounds good.”

  Everybody gathered their things, and she dashed into her solitary confinement bedroom to grab her beach bag. She figured the essentials would be the same regardless of the body of water. When she came back out, Bryson, his dad, and Brent came walking out. When her boyfriend took the bag from her, she didn’t protest. If she knew he was being nice because he felt bad, she’d probably tell him to go screw himself … she could carry her own stuff. But she knew that was just how he was. Feeling bad had nothing to do with his manners.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She’d almost rather he was groveling at her feet, but if she were realistic, she’d know that doing something like that would royally piss her off. There was no way he could win right now, so it was best if he didn’t try too hard.

  And he probably freaking knew that, too. The jerk.

  When they reached the car, he put her bag in the trunk, and she walked around to the passenger side. The back passenger side.

  “What are you doing?”

  She looked over to Butch and back at Bryson, smiling as naturally as she could. “There’s no room back here, and your dad is over six feet tall.” She chuckled as if what she’d said should’ve been obvious and pulled the handle.

  “You don’t have to sit back there.”

  Oh now he cared about her comfort? She glared at him over the hood of the car. Her car. She got the better gas mileage, so they’d chosen to bring her ride instead of his. “No need to worry about me. At least I don’t have to sit by myself.” She glanced at his brother as he made his way to the other side of the vehicle.

  Bryson muttered something, but let it go, choosing instead to get into the car. His dad had already gotten seated. Seemed as if he knew when to make himself scarce. She liked him already.

  “So, Taylor, what do you do?” Brent asked. She tamped the need to roll her eyes. Brent was nice, and she got the feeling he was only asking to fill the silence. Plus, she’d already been grilled last night at the dinner table when this subject had come up. It was sweet of him to make her feel comfortable though, so she didn’t want to offend him with a knee-jerk response.

  “I’m a loan officer at a bank.” She wasn’t a big numbers person like Morgan’s boyfriend, but Taylor liked money, and it fit with her need to help people achieve their dreams.

  “Oh, sorry. That’s right. I forgot Bry said that’s how y’all met.”

  Bryson looked in the rearview mirror and their gazes met. She quickly turned away.

  “Yeah, I met Taylor when my company was contracted to design a new monetary clearinghouse system. She was part of user testing before it went live.”

  Brent’s head jerked up. “That reminds me. I’m not getting my email on my tablet. Can you take a look at it?”

  Bryson sighed, and Taylor bit her lip to keep from laughing. So it wasn’t just friends who tapped him on anything related to technology because he worked in information systems development? Poor guy. If she weren’t angry with him right now, she’d try jumping to his rescue.

  Then she looked at Brent and decided she couldn’t keep from doing just that anyway.

  “Jeez, not you, too,” she joked. “That’s like asking a waitress to prepare a gourmet meal since she works in the restaurant industry.”

  Color tinged Brent’s cheeks, and Bryson choked on a quick laugh.

  “Hey, who says waitresses can’t cook?”

  “And tech guys can’t fix email problems?” she asked, raising one eyebrow. “Many people can do a lot of things, dude. I just hope I don’t make a habit of throwing around assumptions based on association.” To lessen the blow of her playful chastising, she added, “If you come into my bank asking me to mint new coins because I handle currency, I’ll kick you in your family jewels.”

  “Ha. Ha,” he said, but laughter swam in his eyes. “Point taken.”

  “Thanks, babe,” Bryson said, then glanced at his brother. “But I’ll look at your email anyway. Just don’t let me forget before I leave.”

  He muttered his appreciation and looked at Taylor. “Don’t know why he loves you. You’re a menace.”

  She giggled. “I’m irresistible.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  Her gaze met his again, and she smiled before remembering she was still irritated at him. God, this was going to be a long few days.

  Bryson drove through a coffee shop against her protests, but once she had the fresh brew in her hands, she didn’t complain. She stayed lost in caffeinated bliss the rest of the ride to the lake.

  “Oh damn.” Butch looked over his shoulder at her. “Sorry about my language, dear.” Then he looked at Bryson. “But what in God’s name is your mother doing?” He got out of the car the moment they pulled to a stop.

  Taylor glanced out the windshield right as Bryson said, “Shit.”

  He and Brent jumped out of the car and jogged after their dad to reach his mother, who was carrying what looked to be a stack of stainless steel containers, which shifted precariously in her arms as she made her way to the table.

  Taylor made her way over there, but the guys had come to the matriarch’s rescue long before she’d been in reach.

  “…Told you not to lift anything heavy,” Butch grumbled as put some of the metal dishes on the table.

  “Well, if you’d have come with me this morning like I asked instead of staying behind to pamper Bryson’s— ” Joanie cut herself off when she noticed Taylor standing beside the stack of paper plates. “Oh, hi,” she said, smiling at her.

 

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