32. Chapter 32 – Lucy
T rish and Carl retreated to the living room, giving Clay and me a moment alone.
He dropped his forehead to mine, his dark gaze pleading, his expression hopeful. “See, telling them wasn’t that bad. They like you.”
“For a moment there, I thought she was going to like me more than you .”
Clay leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his lips quirked up at the corners. Not at all bothered by the idea that his mother might have a new favorite.
“Yes. My mom’s a modern woman, but she has some fixed ideas about male and female roles.”
I chuckled softly. More like his mom had high expectations of her only son. But it came from a loving place.
“Luckily, what I lack in my ability to close the deal, I make up for in quantity of proposals.” I squinted at him, trying to follow his logic. “That’s just math,” he said confidently.
I patted his chin. “Whatever you say, Robertson.”
His smile softened, that tender expression he saved just for me surfacing. Something fluttered in my chest, a mix of affection and surrender.
Then he leaned down and kissed me. Soulful and soft, then harsh with need.
I struggled to catch my breath after we broke apart, more turned on than I wanted to admit in the fragrant kitchen with our holiday meal half-cooked.
Too bad I couldn’t drag him into our bedroom for an intermission with his folks in the living room.
I may have won his mother over, but there was a lot of ground between accepting our engagement and accepting me as a daughter-in-law. Sneaking away for midday nookie might put me back on her naughty list.
“I have something I want to give you.”
I arched my brow, dropping my gaze to his groin and the rough outline of his erection. “I know. But it’s going to have to wait. Your parents are in the other room.”
He sighed, the long-suffering kind that sounded as if it were drawn from the depths of his soul. His hand disappeared into his back pocket.
He extended his hand, a white velvet box in the center of his palm. “Lucy, I’d be honored if you’d wear this.” He snapped the box open, revealing a ring. The black quartz coffin-cut stone was edged in diamonds, the band delicate and ethereal. It was gorgeous.
“It’s – it’s beautiful ,” I breathed. My eyes glittered with unshed tears. A ring like that was likely custom-made. He didn’t just pick this up at a store.
“I wanted something as unique and stunning as you.”
He helped me slip on the ring and pulled me closer, capturing my mouth in a kiss that melded heat and a promise.
“As much as I want you to stay, I need to get this meal finished without setting anything on fire,” Clay said.
I fanned myself. “That’s okay. I should change. You’re not the only thing that’s hot in this kitchen.”
I slipped into our bedroom and swapped out my sweater for a fresh t-shirt.
I’d sweated through my original outfit. I could blame the heat, but it was one hundred percent his mom’s interrogation.
His mom seemed to appreciate a woman who could hold her own, making me think I’d done the right thing, standing up to her.
That maybe I’d passed the test, qualifying myself as her future daughter-in-law.
As I tugged my hem into place, my gaze landed on my hand. The ring sparkled on my finger. Simple. Elegant. Love bloomed in my chest. Clay had slipped it on with a reverence that stalled my breath. It still didn’t feel entirely real.
I returned to the living room, joining Trish on the couch. Her gaze skipped over my new outfit, landing on my ring. Her tiny smile of approval eased the last of my tension.
Maybe I wasn’t just passing a test anymore. Maybe I was starting to belong.
Clay emerged from the kitchen at one, announcing, “Dinner is served.”
Trish and I abandoned the puzzle we’d been working on together at the coffee table, following Clay’s dad into the kitchen.
Clay had claimed he was keeping things small, since there were only four of us, but if the counter collapsed under the weight of all the food, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Carved turkey, sausage stuffing, a box-free mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and roasted root vegetables infused the kitchen with the savory scents of sage and rosemary.
I leaned against Clay. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was.
This – Clay, a kitchen that smelled like home – was exactly what I’d never let myself want before him.
“Marry me.”
His head tilted, the beginnings of a smile curving his mouth. “Is that the hunger talking?” he teased. “Good thing I already said ‘yes.’ I wouldn’t want to take advantage of your weakened state.”
I kissed him. “I’m only weak for you, Robertson.”
“Dish up, kids. My manners expire in thirty seconds,” Carl warned with an indulgent smile. “This spread looks amazing, and I can’t wait to dig in.”
Clay and I loaded plates, joining his parents at the kitchen table. After we’d stuffed ourselves silly, Trish and I tackled the dishes while Clay and his dad consolidated leftovers.
“I don’t even think Anya and Vi need to cook tomorrow. We should just invite everyone here for Friendsgiving,” I said.
“Bite your tongue, woman. There’s always room for more food.”
I held up my hands in surrender. “Forget I said anything.”
Trish’s eyes twinkled. “We’ll take care packages with us on the ferry. I’m sure the TSA won’t have an issue with a container of leftovers, right? We’ll make new friends at our gate.”
“Or enemies,” Clay’s dad muttered. “I’m not sharing.”
Trish and Carl went for a walk after we finished cleaning up, considerately giving us privacy for the call to my parents. Clay and I sat thigh-to-thigh on the couch, and I wiped my damp hands along my legs.
“Don’t worry, Lucifer. People love me.”
“Prepare yourself, Robertson. It’s about to get real.”
He tangled my fingers in his, drawing my attention away from my phone. “It’s always been real for me.”
He said it with such sincerity, rubbing a finger over my ring like a magic lamp granting him his heart’s desire. My heart clenched.
“Marry me,” I said softly.
His eyes danced, humor twinkling in his deep brown gaze. “You can keep asking, but I already said yes, and I’m still winning.”
“It’s not a competition,” I groused, letting his teasing relax my nerves. This was why we worked so well together. He knew just how to talk me down and wind me up.
His smile turned lopsided, pure mischief. “It is. And again.” He pointed both thumbs at himself. “Winning.” His eyes softened. “Mostly because I can’t wait to be your husband.” His sweet words reached into my chest and squeezed.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” He gestured to my phone. “Now, quit stalling. I need to charm my future in-laws.”
My mom picked up after the first ring, my dad and siblings smooshed into the frame.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” they shouted. “We miss you, Lucy.”
“Happy Thanksgiving. I love you and miss you too.”
“Who’s the handsome guy snuggled up next to you?” my mom asked with faux innocence.
I’d already told them about Clay. That we were dating. That I’d moved in. There was only one last bit of news to share.
“This is Clay Robertson… my fiancé.”
The broad grins from my mom and dad washed away the last of the concern I had about telling them. That they’d call it too fast. That they’d question if I was ready.
“That’s wonderful news. Lucy’s told us all about you. We can’t wait to visit and spend time together in person,” my mom said enthusiastically.
My dad, not quite as verbose, simply said, “Nice to meet you, Clay.”
My brother and sister added their congratulations, and we chatted for a few minutes, catching up on family news.
My brother had started a new job and had a new boyfriend.
They weren’t at the holidays together phase, but the light in Marcus’s eyes when he spoke about his new man was promising.
My sister and her husband had announced their pregnancy in the summer.
I was looking forward to a mini baby shower for them at Christmas.
Clay gathered me in his arms after our call ended, expression relaxed. “Well, Luce. We did it. We conquered Thanksgiving.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, we did.” I wreathed my arms around his neck. “How much longer before your parents come back?”
“Probably not long enough,” he said ruefully, dropping a quick kiss on my mouth.
The rest of the day passed in a haze of puzzles, board games, and leftovers. Now that I didn’t have the weight of sharing our engagement hanging over my head, it was easier to relax with Clay’s parents.
On Friday, Clay and I dropped his folks off at the ferry dock, exchanging hugs.
“We won’t see you at Christmas, but we’ll be back this spring for a visit,” his mom promised. She whispered, “I wasn’t sure at first, but I think you’re perfect for him. Welcome to the family, dear.”
Stunned, I didn’t know what to say, woodenly accepting Carl’s hug before they waved, suitcases trailing behind them, as they walked onto the ferry.
Clay took my hand in his, swinging our clasped hands gently. “Know what I’m thankful for today?”
I shook my head.
He kissed our entwined fingers. “Four hours of alone time before we meet the gang for Friendsgiving.” He grinned at me. “Race you to the truck?”
Laughing, he took off, me fast on his heels.