Chapter Thirty-Three Scarlett #2
Alex shakes his hand firmly, nodding at him. “Alexander. It’s nice to put a face to the person who has been taming Scarlett.”
“Taming?” Evan guffaws, sliding his hands back into his pockets. “That is the furthest thing from what I’m doing.”
I grin. “It’s true. I cannot be tamed.”
“Fair enough.” Alex laughs. He nods toward the door that leads to the dining room. “Dinner is going to be ready soon. Let’s get going, shall we?”
I watch as Evan marvels at the chandeliers in the dining room, not hiding his curiosity.
It’s so different to his house outside the city, where everything is warm tones and cozy wooden beams exposed on the ceilings.
The table is already set, and as my parents filter into the room, they immediately start talking Evan’s ear off.
I go to save him, but Alex grips my forearm.
I spin to him, and he’s smiling at me like a Cheshire cat.
“He’s nice, Scarlett. Too nice,” he murmurs to me, a slight twinge of his British accent slipping through.
I sigh as I watch my parents fuss over him. “I know. It’s weird, right?”
“How’d you get him to put up with you, then?” Alex mocks, bumping his shoulder into mine.
“I have no idea.”
Just as I expected, everyone takes their usual seats at the table when my mom calls out for them.
Leo sits beside me, Evan on my other side, and Alex beside him.
My mom’s at one end of the table, Arthur brooding next to her and Junior beside him, with my dad at the other end of the table.
Seeing everyone here, seemingly happy and enjoying each other’s company, feels special.
It feels perfect. Like this is how it’s always been.
As we get stuck into the cacio e pepe my mom’s prepared, Junior narrows his eyes at Evan from across the table. “On a scale of one to ten, how horrible is it to be in a relationship with Scarlett?”
I shoot daggers at him, wishing the table wasn’t so big so I could kick him in the shin. “Terrible,” Evan says, so I kick him in the shin instead. He only grins. “All she wants to do is watch horror movies and scare the crap out of me.”
My dad’s smile doubles in size. “That’s my girl,” he says, pointing his fork at me.
I shrug one shoulder. “It’s my love language.”
Junior scoffs. “You’re insane.”
“You know,” I start, pretending to look curious.
“The more you say that, the more it starts to feel like a compliment.” In true Junior fashion, he sticks his tongue out at me and slides down in his seat enough to kick me under the table.
I just accept it because nothing feels more perfect than annoying my brother at the dinner table.
My dad’s stern gaze lands back on Evan, and he straightens beside me. “You’re making her happy, yeah?” he asks.
“Dad,” I mutter like a teenage girl getting embarrassed in front of her crush.
“Every day, sir,” Evan says, sliding one comforting palm to my thigh, the weight of it anchoring me to this moment.
My dad’s eyebrow quirks up. “Every day?”
Evan nods, all assured and confident as he repeats, “Every day.”
I swear my mom almost starts crying. All these years she’s been trying to get me to take dating more seriously, and here Evan Branson is being the most perfect human in the entire world just by breathing. The conversation continues around us until Evan’s phone rings in his pocket.
He clears his throat, pushing his chair out from the table. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to take this,” he whispers, offering me a smile before kissing me on the forehead. I nod, and he turns to my mom first and then my dad. “Dinner was lovely, Mr. and Mrs. Voss. Thank you.”
“It’s our pleasure,” my mom says, and my dad nods.
“You can use my room if you need to take a private call,” I say, looking up at him.
I watch the way his chest heaves, and I want to comfort him in some way.
To let him know I’m always here for him.
His eyes connect with mine, and I know he can see all that just within my expression. He nods at me before he leaves.
“He’s good for you,” my mom says almost out of nowhere when she sets out the dessert on the table. “I’ve never seen you so happy, tesoro. It suits you. I just hope it lasts.”
I shrug, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I’m dying to talk to him again, to ask if he’s okay, to just be there for him. “He’s perfect,” I say. “He’s the love of my life, Mom. There’s never going to be anybody else.”
All the boys gag, including my dad, but my mom’s smile is so bright and full of life, I almost start crying. How pathetic. “I know what that’s like, sweetheart,” she says, looking over to my dad and then back to me. “You only get it once in a lifetime.”
Trust me, I got it. Being with Evan is like the first day of my life all over again. Everything feels fresh, new, safe, and perfect. Nothing feels out of place or uncomfortable. Everything feels the way it’s supposed to be.