“Just can’t.” I shrug, bushing it off.
“Does this have something to do with Haven?”
I scoff, wishing he would drop the conversation. “She tricked me into having dinner with her parents,” I complain.
He starts laughing, visibly shaking with tears in his eyes. “Doesn’t her father hate you?”
“It was her way of getting back at me. You know how she loves to get under my skin.”
“You mean the same way you do to her?”
“It means absolutely nothing. I grew up with her. She was at my house more than Frankie was and she lived there.”
“I wonder why that was…” He trails off, sounding like he’s implying something.
“Don’t be gross. She’s like a sister to me,” I lie, afraid to admit the truth out loud.
“Is that why you’ve hated every boyfriend she’s ever had?”
“What can I say? They’ve never been good enough for her.” Just like me. But at least I’m honest in knowing that.
“Maybe if you showed her dad that the rodeo isn’t such a bad place, he would hate you less,” Crash offers, standing up and stretching. His eyes stay on the sailboat just like mine do.
“Naw, he’s just a hater.” I stand up next to Crash. “What about next week?”
“We’ll see. My mare should be going into labor in the next week or so.”
“Well, DON’T YOU clean up nice.” Haven’s mother pulls me into a hug when she opens her front door to the two of us.
“Don’t be filling this big head with more hot air, Mama,” Haven scolds, but her smile stays on her face as she waits for her hug.
She releases me, and I give Haven a wink before I walk in like this is my home. “Danger, nice to see you at church last week,” her father says to me. His face is contorted in a ridged scowl like he’s in pain from directing nice words toward me.
“Is that steak I smell cookin’?”
Haven hits me in the gut, making me lose the lungful of air I had. She knows I’m well aware her parents are vegetarians. Her dad eyes me for a second before going back outside to their back deck, not giving my question any of his time.
“Mushroom burgers,” her mama says, coming up from behind us, not missing a beat.
“Did my ma tell you those are my favorite? I hope you put extra on for me,” I tell her sweetly, watching her beam at my approval. Haven’s mother could put anything in front of me and I would eat it. But I don’t see how a mushroom burger will be able to keep me full for long.
Haven’s throwing daggers at me with her eyes, and I’m not sure if I should stay in here or go outside with her dad. They’re both equal in their challenge.
“What can I do to help, Mrs. Rose?” I divert my attention back to her mother. At least she likes me.
“Why don’t you help Adam with the BBQ?”
Now that idea has Haven smiling from ear to ear. I nod, taking it in stride as I step outside and let the girls do the inside stuff.
“Pastor Rose.”
“Hi, Danger. I see you have my daughter living in sin for the second time in her life,” he grunts out while flipping the so-called patty.
I scratch at my head. “It’s not really like that, sir.”
“I’m not blind.” He points at me with his finger. “I see how you look at her.”
“Honestly, Haven is like a sister to me. I just want what’s best for her.”
His eyes narrow into slits as he stares at me. I can feel the heat from hell he’s trying to rain down on me, and my collar feels like it’s suddenly choking me. “I am a man of God, Danger.”
I can feel the speech coming, and I have no escape. I bet Haven’s listening to us and is enjoying the way I squirm.
“When I met Haven’s mother, I knew instantly she was the one. We married within a month. There were no games, no pissing around.”
When he pauses, I add in my comment, not needing to hear him get all holy on me. “You telling me to marry your daughter, Pastor?”
He scoffs. “The church doesn’t believe in marrying your sister, or anyone who feels like one.”
My heart pounds as he lays into me. He’s looking at me like he can see right through me. “For what’s it worth, I will protect Haven no matter what. I may not be able to keep the ‘thou shalt not kill’ commandment if that scumbag shows his face in town ever again, but I will never hurt her in any way. When I make promises, I don’t break them. You may not believe me, but I am honorable.”
As much as I tell myself that I don’t care if he likes me, I’m faced with times when I do care. When someone calls in my honor or intentions, I never lead people on. I’m an open book; you get what you see. I won't lie, never needed to. In fact, I’m insulted that he would think anything else. He’s known me since I was eight years old, when they moved here.
His face is less of a scowl, his lines not as deep, as he listens to my defense. He nods, turning back to the BBQ. I wait to see if he’s going to finish the speech he started, but he doesn’t.
“Thank you for your honesty, Danger,” he finally says, breaking the heavy air that clings around us. “I’ve seen you around town with a few different girls in the last month. I just wanted to make sure we were both on the same page. You’re a good man. Your parents brought you up right. Not how I would live, but I can respect our differences when our main goal is the same. We both want Haven happy.”
He hands me a plate with the mushroom circles. I bring them up to my nose for a quick smell. I’ve smelled worse; hopefully, it isn’t that bad. With enough toppings, I’m sure I can make anything taste decent.
As we walk in, the women have set the table, and I notice Mrs. Rose has a bottle of sparkling peach juice out. It warms my heart. They don’t drink, but she has done this for me each time I’ve eaten over since I was twenty-one. It’s endearing.
“Can you open that up for us, dear?”
I pick it up to comply with Haven’s mom’s request, then walk away from the kitchen, not wanting to accidentally hit anyone when the cork flies out like a real champagne bottle. Their mantel is lined with pictures of the three of them. One big, happy family.
I grew up with a fantastic family, but when my dad had his bull riding accident, the brightness in our family diminished. Dad was thrown off a bull, and the rodeo clown couldn’t distract the animal in time. He was trampled, leaving him in a wheelchair for about a year. To this day, he still needs a cane to walk and prefers to use a wheelchair if he’s going to be out for a long time. My parents never smiled as brightly after that day.
Quickly, I open the cork, and it flies into the ceiling before falling and knocking a picture down. It’s a picture of Haven’s parents on their wedding day. She’s tenderly touching her flat stomach. It makes me wonder if the old pastor isn’t as squeaky clean as he pretends. My parents married because my ma got pregnant with me. I just didn’t think Haven’s parents would be the same.
Putting the old photo back up, I place it front and center before heading back into the kitchen.
Haven