Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
We’re in the car for maybe two minutes as we take the ten-minute drive up the mountain to get to my parents’ place before the word vomit begins. For a moment, I considered winging it, but my inner planner and the need to ensure everyone's comfort and happiness prevailed.
“Okay, so I probably should have asked you this before we headed over to my parents’ house, but if my mom and dad don’t ask, my brothers absolutely will, and I very much do not want to scare you off because my family is pushy.
” I try to sound casual, but my heart is pounding with nerves.
I didn’t want to force Adam into this talk just yet, but I don’t see any real way around it.
I know my family well enough to know going into this blind would be a terrible idea.
“Oh?” Adam asks. His head turns to look at me, smiling, my clear discomfort entertaining him.
“They’re going to ask what we are,” I blurt out before I lose my confidence to do so. “And I don’t want to push, really. We can even turn around and say you’re sick, and Madden and Jesse can help me pick out a tree for you and deliver it tomorrow. I won’t be offended, I—”
“We’re picking out a tree today, Wren,” he says, cutting me off.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to center myself. “I know, I know, but—”
“Together,” he continues.
He’s still not getting it, I think, so I try to explain. “Yes, but—”
“And I’m going to meet your parents.”
“We—” I try once more to interject.
“Because from what I understand, that’s what you do when you’re seeing a woman and know there’s something there.”
My words stop, my mind going blank at everything but what he just said.
That’s what you do when you’re seeing a woman and know there’s something there.
“So if your family asks—” he starts, clearly not stuck on his previous statement the way I am.
“When,” I correct with a sigh, trying to focus on the topic at hand. “There is no universe where no one is going to ask. They might wait to strike when they think I least expect it, but the question is coming. I’m the baby of the family, with two older brothers. It’s impossible to get around that.”
He chuckles, then corrects himself. “Okay, when someone asks, what do you want the answer to be?”
“What?”
“I don’t know how this works, Wren, if you haven’t figured this out. My dating life hasn’t been…typical. I’ve never been with a woman who lives in a small town with a family that cares about her. I’ve never had to meet the parents.”
My head snaps to him, and my pulse pounds. “You’ve never met the parents?”
He gives me a sheepish look, a light blush blooming on his cheeks. “Rock star and music mogul lifestyle doesn’t really lend itself to that, Birdie.”
“Oh,” I say low, and bite my lip. After the snowstorm, I searched for Adam Porter using the new parameters and the intel I had and brought up page after page of him in LA at restaurants with big stars, as well as a few rumored dates and girlfriends.
Some musicians, some producers, some freaking models, but all of them next-level gorgeous and put together.
My breathing quickens as my pulse pounds, and I realize just how different we are.
“Erase that look, Wren.” He reaches over and grabs my hand, gripping it right.
“Right now. I haven’t dated anyone in well over a year, and I'm not sure if any of my past relationships could be considered true relationships. I promise I am more out of my depth than you ever will be. I’m here with you because I really fucking like you, Wren.
I appreciate that you don’t view me as a stepping stone, nor do you seem to care about my past or potential future accomplishments or how they might benefit you.
I like that you haven’t changed at all since you found out who I am.
The only thing you seem to be using your wiles for is to see if you can put Christmas lights on my house, and that is refreshing.
It’s why I’m here with you, on my way to your parents’ Christmas tree farm to chop a tree down in the freezing cold. ”
I glance over at him and smile, though his eyes are on the road.
“Now, tell me, when your parents or your brothers or whoever asks what we are, what do you want me to respond with?”
“I don’t…” That panic returns, with a different font but the same pulse-pounding result, as I try to decide what I think he wants to hear. Does he want me to say we’re together or not? I don’t want to push things past what he’s comfortable with, but we really haven’t—
Suddenly, the car veers off the road, and Adam brings it to a stop, putting it in park before turning to me fully. He reaches across the console and slides his hands into my hair, pulling me close and pressing his lips to mine.
“Nothing you say will be the wrong answer, Wren. I’m trying to see where your head is at with this, not send you into a spiral. I don’t want you trying to weigh your answer against the answer you think I want to hear, okay?”
“I just—” I whisper, but he cuts me off.
“Let me give you my thoughts first, okay?” Some of that nervous panic leaves me.
“I want to be with you. I want to be yours. I would be very much okay if we walked into their home hand in hand and told your family that I’m your boyfriend, even if I’m thirty-five and that makes me feel like I’m seventeen. ”
“What term would you prefer?” I ask without meaning to.
“Yours would suffice. Or your man. But that’s not the point right now, Wren.
The point is, in my perfect world, you’re mine, and we’re together, no matter what you title it.
But the truth is, I don’t think I’ve ever been a boyfriend, so I don’t know how to do this properly. If you’re not ready for that, then—”
“No, no,” I say, shaking my head at him. “No. I um.” I bite my lips, nerves fluttering in my belly.
God, why was it easier to ask Tim Higgins to the Sadie Hawkins dance in seventh grade than it is to tell a grown man whose face I have sat on that I want to be his girlfriend?
“You have to use your words, Wren. You’ve gotta tell me what you actually want.”
His words remind me of many other circumstances where he’s said that to me, and it sends liquid warmth to pool in my belly.
It also gives me the jolt of courage I need.
I take in a sharp breath, and satisfaction spreads over his face, like he knows where my mind went.
But I’m stubborn, and I don’t want him to win this, so I just glare.
“We’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on in your pretty little head. Tell me what you want, Wren.”
“I want you to be mine,” I whisper.
He smiles at me, the real one, the one that meets his eyes, the one that he always gives me any time I tell him an honest answer. He leans in, his hand going on my jaw, his forehead resting on mine.
“Then I’m yours.”
“Hey, Mom,” I say, walking into the kitchen of the house I grew up in.
It smells like cinnamon and pine trees and my childhood, and when I see her reach into the stove to pull out a giant tray of cinnamon rolls, I fight back an excited squeal, knowing I'll be sent home with some. At the kitchen table are my two brothers, which tells me my niece Emma is probably in the playroom. My dad is nowhere to be seen, which means he’s probably out preparing for when the farm opens at two.
Madden and Jesse are probably supposed to be out there with him, but they are biding their time for what I know is coming next.
“Jesse, Madden.” They both give me grins, and I roll my eyes.
“Hey, sweetheart,” my mom says, coming over to press a kiss to my temple before turning to Adam. “And you must be Adam.”
He puts his hand out for my mom, but she waves it away, wrapping her arms around him and forcing him into a hug.
His eyes meet mine and go wide, and I fight back a laugh.
I warned him about my family’s inevitable question of What are you two?
…but I also probably should have mentioned that my mom is a hugger.
When she steps back, she looks him over, her hands going to her hips. “My, you’re a big guy, aren’t you?” As soon as the words leave her lips, a pink flush I’ve seen in the mirror on my own face a million times blooms on her cheeks, as if she didn’t mean to actually say that.
“Jeez, Mom,” I grumble, turning to my brothers, wanting to get this over with. “Jesse, Madden, this is Adam. Adam, these are my brothers. Feel free to ignore them.”
Madden turns to give Jesse a wicked, mischievous look before turning back to me and putting a hand to his chest, feigning hurt.
“Hey, is that any way to introduce your favorite brother to your…” The words trail off, and he lifts an eyebrow firmly at Adam, and I know a bright red flush burns on my cheeks without even having to touch them to feel the heat.
“Boys,” Mom warns in her stern tone, but Adam was prepared for this.
He steps over to my brothers, putting a hand out to them. “Her boyfriend. Nice to meet you; I’m Adam.”
My brothers look at one another before Jesse puts a hand out to shake. It’s firm, too firm to be casual and kind. I want to cut in, but when I look at Adam, he’s smiling, seemingly entertained by the battle of wills. He repeats the process with Madden, and I relax a bit.
Maybe this won’t be too bad.
Maybe—
Then Madden opens his stupid fat trap.
“What are your intentions with our baby sister?” he asks, and I try to seem annoyed and not blush, but I know I fail desperately.
“You guys, stop it. You’re being weird,” I say, my cheeks now feeling like they were recently doused in lava. “It’s weird when a brother is that invested in his sister's personal life. This isn’t the 1800s.”
He looks up at me with the most innocent expression, the one that absolutely used to work on my mom and absolutely works on the women in town now.
“What? We’re just trying to get to know the mystery man our baby sister brought to the farm. You never bring men here.”