His shoulders sagged in what seemed like relief. Whether it was from my serious tone or because he was letting his worry fall away, I didn’t care. As long as he understood the truth of my words. “And, it doesn’t matter that you don’t have a degree. You are the owner and operator of a family business. I don’t care what the paperwork says. Your mother isn’t involved in any way, and you have run The Little Bean since she stepped aside. It’s a thriving business and an integral part of the community. Don’t treat it like you’re a part-time worker pouring coffee from a little carafe. I’ve seen your ads and the way you are constantly improving the café in different ways. I’ve seen how busy the place is, and I’ve seen you talk personably to every customer who comes in. That’s a huge skill in and of itself, Sanders. Don’t downplay something that is a huge accomplishment.”
His eyes met and held mine, and he nodded then bent his head and rested it on my sternum. I rubbed his arms up and down and gave him a kiss on his hair. I clasped his hand and turned, pulling him toward the couch and then tugged him down to straddle my lap like I’d wanted to in the first place. I held his face in my hands until he met my gaze again.
“But the most important reason they’re going to love you, Sanders, is because I’ve fallen for you.” He gasped, and tears filled his eyes as I drew his forehead down to mine. “I’m so damn in love with everything about you, I can barely see straight. When I’m not with you, I think about you. When I am with you, I’m trying to think of more ways to make you happy, to put a smile on your face, and to make you laugh.”
He pulled back and looked into my eyes. “You love me?”
I smiled at the disbelief in his voice. “I do. I know it’s soon, and we haven’t been together long, but I can’t imagine my life without you. It’s okay if you’re not ready to say it, baby. I’ll wait—”
He let out a sort of sob laugh as he clamped his hand over my mouth. “Shut up, Daddy, so I can tell you I love you too! I’m so in love with you I feel silly about it. I’m so lucky to have you in my life, and I think about you all the time, and I wonder what our future will be like.”
I grinned at him as I pulled him forward and kissed his sweet lips. “Happy. Our future will be happy, Sanders. I’ll make sure of it.”
Sanders nodded, and a tear fell, so I kissed it away. “I promise to do my best to make you happy as well.”
“I know you will, sweetheart. I know you will. And circling back, just so you know, there is no way you can ever be too sexy. But as it is, you are gorgeous. You are perfect. And one more time so you believe it, my parents are going to love”—my doorbell rang, and I grinned at Sanders’s jolt of surprise. I kissed his nose and finished my thought—“you.”
He hopped off my lap like someone had prodded him with a hot poker and began to smooth down all the imaginary creases he had in his shirt and pants, muttering, “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,” until I pulled him with me to the front door and shut him up with a passionate kiss that dazed him enough to leave him rather breathless. Mission accomplished, I opened the door to my parents. There was a happy grin on my dad’s face and my mom was smiling like a crazy person, her hands outstretched for a hug. I moved to gather her to me, and she patted me perfunctorily before saying, “Yes, hello, darling, but I was trying to hug Sanders.”
My dad and I chuckled as I relinquished my hold on her and watched as she made a beeline for Sanders, enveloping him in one of her comforting mom hugs. She rocked him back and forth and then finally stood back to take a look at him, holding his arms out like she was having him model for her. I was about to interject when she finally let go of his hands. “Hi, Sanders. I’m Molly. Oh my goodness, you’re gorgeous. No wonder my son is head over heels for you.”
The blush that suffused Sanders’s face was lobsteresque in its shade. He bit his lip and looked down at the floor, embarrassed. My mom clasped his hand in hers and began walking into the house. “Come on, let’s get to know each other.”
I glanced at my father, a grin on my face, watching my mom move to wrap her arm around Sanders’s shoulders to lead him deeper into the house. He raised his hands as if to say, “What am I, chopped liver?” The look on his face was priceless.
“Molly, remember me? I’m your husband who would also like to meet our son’s partner if you don’t mind sharing him for at least a short hello.”
My mom turned back and smacked dad’s arm, laughing but turning pink at being called out. “Oh, fine, but then I get him for a while. I want to know everything about him.”
My father stepped forward and clasped Sanders’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, son. I’m Robert. We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
“You too, sir.”
“None of that nonsense. Remember to call me Molly and call him Robert. No formalities with us.”
Sanders nodded, a slightly overwhelmed look on his face. “Okay, Molly.” He turned his gaze to my dad. “And Robert.”
“There we go. Now, Robert, go help your son finish up the pot roast I can smell cooking and talk about manly, construction stuff for a bit so I can spend some time with Sanders.”
Before she could make off with my boy, I pulled him in and kissed him, whispering, “You going to be okay?”
He blushed even more and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“Love you, boy,” I said in a whisper only he could hear.
He gave me a shy smile and stood on his tiptoes to kiss me and then whisper in my ear, “I love you too, Daddy.”
And that was how I ended up in the kitchen, pouring my father a beer as we joked about how long it would take for Mom to learn Sanders’s whole life story. It would be a full thirty minutes before dinner was ready, so my dad and I did exactly what my mom had suggested—chatted about the bookstore’s renovations. The time flew by.
Before dinner, my mom pulled me aside, wiped tears from her eyes, and whispered, “He’s perfect for you, Brigham. I’m so happy you’ve found the right man for you.” Then she added a bit more seasoning to the roast before it was served—something she was much better at than me—and took the serving dish out to the table.
I’d followed her, then hugged her and thanked her, and my father had patted me on the back, knowing what we’d been talking about. Next thing I knew, I had an armful of Sanders who was oblivious to our little aside, as he looked up into my eyes, adoration clear in his gaze. “Anything I can do to help?”
“You can get yourself and my mom a drink if you’d like. The table is already set.”
Sanders went about preparing their drinks, taking more wine and a carafe of ice water to the table, a happy smile on his face. The atmosphere was casual and comfortable. Sanders fit in with my family like a piece of a puzzle. He had them laughing at stories from his past, and my parents, much to my dismay, regaled him with stories about my younger, more embarrassing years.
It wasn’t long before we were digging into our dessert, a caramel cheesecake Sanders had made for the occasion when he’d learned my parents loved cheesecake. There were a lot of very satisfied noises as they ate it, prompting much blushing and huge smiles from Sanders. My sweet boy loved praise of any kind, and I loved seeing so much happiness on his face as a result of my family.