I narrowed my gaze. “Because you want to buy me the dress.”
“And the shoes and maybe even one of those little evening purse things.”
“I buy the dress, you buy the shoes and purse.”
He seemed to contemplate this. “Okay, fine. But I come with you to your parents’ house.”
“This isn’t a negotiation!” I protested, but I couldn’t help but smile. He was so damn nice and it was hard to fight him on everything. Why couldn’t I let him spoil me a little? We’d already slept together, dozens of times at this point, so what was the harm? And I liked him. A lot.
“You know you want to.” He was teasing me and I finally gave in.
“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. My parents are ten times worse than what you’re expecting. My mom will undoubtedly notice you first, and she won’t be so bad, but Dad…” My voice trailed off. “Well, you’ll see.”
“It’s going to be okay.” He kissed my forehead. “Let’s go.”
* * *
We walked into my parents’ house an hour later and it smelled of stale beer and smoke, worse than usual. I glanced at Declan to gauge his reaction. His face was impassive, so I had no idea what he was thinking, but I couldn’t worry about that now. I put the groceries down and immediately started filling the sink with water to soak all the dishes littering the kitchen.
“Want me to put this stuff away?” he asked quietly.
“Thanks.” I worked without saying anything else because it was so hard to be here. Especially with Declan. He’d been warned, and the way my parents lived had nothing to do with me, but it was embarrassing. I’d grown up in this house.
There was a loud clicking noise and then my father’s voice boomed, “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?!”
I whirled around, shocked to see my father standing there in nothing but his tighty-whities and a rifle that was trained on Declan.
“Dad!” I jumped in front of Declan, scowling at my father. “Put that down—where did you even get that? Jesus fucking Christ, this is my friend Declan.”
Dad slowly lowered the gun, glaring at me. “You brought some boy into my house without my permission?”
I bit back a sarcastic retort because it was obvious he hadn’t been to bed yet and was completely shit-faced.
“Nice to meet you.” Declan stepped around me and held out his hand. “I’m Declan James.”
Dad didn’t shake his hand, merely looked him up and down. “You sleeping with my daughter, son?”
Declan didn’t bat an eyelash. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, but if it’s your way of asking if I care about her, the answer is yes.”
Dad and Declan stared each other down for a few seconds, and I might have fallen a little in love with him right then and there. My father was an ass when he was drinking, never more so than right now, but Declan didn’t bat an eyelash. Dad finally put the gun down and scratched his chin.
“You bring food, Bri?”
“I did.” I was so furious him my hands were shaking. “Where’s Mom?”
“She’s in the shower.”
“You want some coffee?”
“Yeah, you could make some.”
I was mortified and looked over at Declan apologetically. “I’m sorry,” I mouthed.
He winked and smiled, going back to putting away the groceries while I made coffee and decided to fry up some eggs for them. I whipped up a batch of cheddar cheese biscuits, put them in the oven, and then added pepper and a splash of milk to the eggs.
“So what do you do for work, Declan?” Dad sat down at the table.
“I’m a musician.”
“That so? What kind?”
“I play drums. I was in a band called Pretty Harts.”
Dad burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah, this one’s a winner, Bri. Least he’s got a sense of humor.”
“Dad, he’s really the drummer for Pretty Harts. Or he was, until they broke up.”
Dad was quiet. “You’re full of shit. He’s yankin’ your chain, Bri.”
I sighed, but Declan seemed perfectly calm. He pulled out his phone and typed something in. Then he handed it to my dad. “Right there. My picture on the band’s website, my name, my bio. And here’s my driver’s license.”
“Declan, you don’t—” I began, but he held up a hand.
“It’s all right, babe. I probably wouldn’t believe me either.”
Dad looked at the phone. Then at Declan’s license. And then back at the phone.
“Well, I’ll be damned. You’re dating a rock star?” He stared at me as if he’d never seen me before.
I turned back to the task at hand because it felt weird to be talking about Declan that way. He was a rock star, of course, but my dad said it as though it was the only thing about him that mattered, and I supposed that was fair since Dad didn’t know him.
“Bri!” Mom came into the room with a smile, though it faltered a little when she saw Dad in his underwear and Declan leaning against the counter.
“Hi, Mom.” I smiled at her. “This is Declan. Declan, my mother Marj.”
“Hi.” Declan held out his hand. “Declan James.”
“He used to be with Pretty Harts,” Dad said proudly. “Ain’t that amazing? Our little Bri dating a big-time rocker.”
“Make him stop,” I whispered to my mother.
“Ed, go put some pants on,” Mom said. “We have company.”
“But—” Dad started to protest and Mom gave him the look, the same one she’d given us as kids that got us to stop doing whatever it was she didn’t want us doing anymore.
“Fine.” Dad muttered something under his breath and walked out of the room.
“When did he get a gun?” I asked Mom as soon as he was gone.
She sighed. “He traded Noah’s bed for it.”
“But Noah still lives here!” I protested. “He hasn’t moved in with us. This thing with Kiki could end today and then what?”
Mom shrugged. “I don’t know, honey. But you asked when he got a gun. Last week. Apparently, he has some gambling debts and thinks we need protection.”
I groaned. “Seriously?”
“Well, let’s not air all the dirty laundry in front of your new boyfriend.” She sat down at the table and smiled at Declan. “Tell me about yourself, Declan.”
“I’m a drummer,” he said. “And I adore your daughter.”
Mom beamed. “Well, she’s spectacular, isn’t she? Has she cooked for you yet?”
“She has. I’m hooked.”
Luckily, Mom was a lot friendlier than Dad, and a lot more tactful, and she surreptitiously got up and hid the rifle in the back of the pantry while they were chatting. Hopefully, Dad would pass out after he ate and forget all about it when he woke up. But you never knew with my father.
* * *
I was mentally exhausted by the time we left and I leaned back against the leather seats of Declan’s SUV. “I cannot believe my father pulled a gun on you,” I moaned as soon as we were alone.