Joy grinned at him. “Thanks, Kyle. I feel a little overdone, but—”
“Not overdone, Mom,” Britt said. “Like Kye Kye said, you’re gorgeous. Movie star material. Troy had better appreciate you, because if he doesn’t, the rest of the world is going to be lined up to take his spot after they see you in that dress.”
Joy smoothed her black and silver cocktail dress and smiled gratefully at her daughter. “I have to admit that this was not what I expected to be wearing at forty-eight years old.”
“Yeah, we had you pegged for muumuus and obnoxiously bright leggings with oversized shirts that hide your butt,” Britt said with a wide smile. “But then you had to go and turn into a fancy model and actress, and now we have no choice but to watch you strut around here like Heidi Klum. I tell you; it’s exhausting just keeping up.”
Joy chuckled and retreated to her room to get into her boots. She was just touching up her red lipstick when she heard the doorbell ring. Her hands started to shake so bad, it was a miracle she didn’t end up with red lipstick all over her face.
“Calm down, Joy. It’s just Troy. Relax,” she told herself in the mirror.
“So, Troy,” she heard Kyle say from the living room. “I hear you’re dating our mother. Does that mean you’ve been keeping it in your pants while you’ve been out of town, or have you been—”
“Kyle!” Joy cried as she rushed down the hall and into the living room. “Stop interrogating the man.”
Troy let out a long low whistle. “Joy Lansing? Is that you?”
She grinned at the tall man with the kind blue eyes and felt a rush of heat run down her spine. Damn, he was handsome. The memory of running her hands through his thick dark hair swam in her memories, and she was certain that, given a chance, she’d gladly do it again. “It’s me. In the flesh.”
He walked over and leaned in, giving her a gentle kiss on her cheek. Then he whispered, “You are smokin’ hot.”
“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself. I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk much at your gallery show this afternoon. The place was packed, and I didn’t want to bother you.”
“You’re never bothering me, but thanks for coming out. It made my day.”
Kyle cleared his throat, and Joy looked over to find him with his arms crossed over his chest, eyeing Troy suspiciously.
“What is it, Kyle?” she asked, giving him a look that told him to behave himself.
“I just wanted to know what time we can expect you home tonight.”
Troy glanced between Kyle and Joy and then chuckled. “Do you have a curfew, Joy?”
“I don’t know. Do I?” she asked Kyle, giving him a warning tone.
“Of course she doesn’t,” Britt cut in. “We just wanted to know if you’re coming home tonight. We don’t want to worry.”
Kyle let out a grunt but didn’t say anything else.
Joy shook her head. “Just this morning I was thinking how nice it was to have you guys home. Now I’m wondering how much longer I’m going to have to put up with you two freeloaders.”
Britt snorted while Kyle rolled his eyes. He looked at Troy and said, “Don’t let her fool you. I’m fairly certain that if I gave her the greenlight, she’d go over to my apartment and pack everything up herself if I told her I wanted to move home permanently.”
Troy grinned at her. “You know, after spending a little time with her, I’d have to say you’re probably right.” He walked over to the couch where Kyle was elevating his broken leg and held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Kyle. I’m Troy.”
Kyle reluctantly shook his hand but still nodded an acknowledgement.
Troy turned his attention to Britt and charmed her immediately with a kind smile and by complimenting her shoes.
Joy laughed and tugged him out of the house. On her way out, she called over her shoulder, “I’ll be home tonight sometime. Don’t wait up.”
They both called after them, Kyle protesting and demanding a time and Britt reminding them to not forget protection.
“They’re colorful,” Troy said as he opened the passenger door of his Toyota Sequoia.
“They’re a pain in my ass,” she said, stepping up into the SUV.
He leaned in and said, “You like it though.”
Chuckling, she nodded. “I do. They’re fun.”
He shut the door, and in no time, he was in the driver’s seat, steering the vehicle down the road toward Prissy’s cocktail party.
“Your photos from Europe are really spectacular,” Joy said. “I especially liked the ones in that small town in Italy that documented everyday life. The emotions you managed to capture were breathtaking. I mean, the range… you really have a gift, Troy.”
He flashed her a wide smile. “Thanks. But really, it’s the people who allowed me to photograph them that deserve the credit. They were just being themselves, and I somehow managed to capture a small piece of them.”
“That’s humble,” she said kindly. “But we both know it takes a special eye to capture that kind of emotion. I think my favorite is the older couple who were sitting on a bench, holding hands with their heads bent together while smiling at each other. I made up an entire story in my head about them being married for fifty years and still being deeply in love even after weathering countless obstacles.”
“You’re actually not that far off,” he said, looking amused. “They’ve been married for forty-eight years, have nine children, buried two, and have reinvented themselves three different times to stay afloat. And they still really like each other. There’s a ton of love there. I just hope I did them justice.”
“You did,” she said simply.
He glanced over at her, his cheeks flushed slightly. Then he cleared his throat and asked, “So, what did I miss in Premonition Pointe?”
Joy stared at his handsome profile and shook her head. “What didn’t you miss? You’ve been gone for… I don’t know how long.” She shrugged. “Everyone thinks we’re dating, thanks to that interview you did. Filming has come to a halt because Prissy threw a temper tantrum. My son broke his leg in a car crash. And well… you know about Carly’s niece.”
Troy glanced at her. “That’s a lot.”
“Yeah, but I’m handling it,” she said with a shrug.
“Of course you are. Since we’re headed to Prissy’s cocktail party, why don’t you tell me why she threw a tantrum?”
Joy let out a sardonic chuckle. “I called her a hateful bitch on set.”
He snorted. “I bet she deserved it.”
“She did.” Joy studied him, noting his amused smile. “Do you know her?”
“Nope. But when she kept trying to get in touch with me about her cocktail party, I asked a couple of people who are in the position to know her. None of them were terribly impressed with her personality.”
“So why did you agree to go with me?” Joy asked curiously.
“Because you asked me to,” he said simply.
“That’s… really kind.”
“I had an ulterior motive,” he admitted.