I shake his shoulder to redirect his attention. “What about Kate?”
He levels me with an unamused look. “Kate’s more complicated.”
“How so?” I ask, my mind drifting to all sorts of scenarios. “Are you…into her?”
“No…not anymore.”
My eyes widen.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Suddenly, he pushes me out from his grasp into a surprisingly effortless spin and pulls me back, tight into his body, and I have to tell my heart rate to settle down. “I had feelings for her at one point. They weren’t reciprocated. End of story.”
My jaw drops. “Dean Moser rejected by a female. Alert the presses.”
He scoffs. “You reject me every day.”
“That’s not real.” I pin him with a knowing look. “I know you’re not truly into me. You’re just a big flirt.”
His brow furrows, but he lets it go. “If you saw my current text chain with Kate and Lynsey right now, you wouldn’t have any doubts that they’re more like annoying sisters than sister wives.”
“What’s going on?” His reaction about his friends is so unlike him and has my interest in their relationship piqued.
His jaw tightens as he grumbles out a frustrated sound. “They’re trying to set me up. They keep texting me pictures of girls like I’m on some horrible episode of Boulder Bachelor. You think your mom is bad? Try fighting off Kate and Lynsey after they’ve had a few tropical drinks. There’s usually wrestling and bloodshed involved.”
I can’t help but laugh at that image. “Why do they want to set you up so much? I wouldn’t take you as a man who sleeps alone often.”
Dean’s eyes flicker down to me, clearly shocked that I said something so bold. I’m a little shocked too. I’m more curious about Dean’s personal life than I care to admit out loud, but I don’t need him to know that.
Heat rises in my cheeks, so I stammer out, “I ju-just mean if you’re finding women desperate enough to beg you to be their fake date, surely you wouldn’t have any issues finding a real one.”
He hits me with a look that says, stop feeling sorry for yourself. “It’s not that I can’t find a date. They just don’t like the kind of women they’ve been seeing me with lately.”
My nose wrinkles. “What kind of women are you hanging out with?”
He spins me again, catching me off guard as he pulls me back into him with my back pressed to his chest as he whispers in my ear. “It doesn’t matter. If Kate and Lynsey don’t like them, they make my life miserable.”
He swirls me to face him again, and I notice his attention is distracted by my parents dancing near us. He squeezes my side and chin nods to them. “Look at them. They’re actually talking to each other and laughing. You paint a pretty grim picture of your mom, but your dad looks no worse for the wear.”
I sigh heavily. “Yeah, he’s always doted on her. He’s never minded that she’s uptight and tense about everything. A bit of an enabler if you ask me.”
Dean huffs out a laugh. “Well, at least they actually speak to each other.”
My brow furrows. “Are your parents not like that?”
Dean shakes his head like this conversation is taking a turn he doesn’t want it to take. “No…my parents are divorced, thank God.”
“Was it pretty bad when they were together?” I pry further, noting that Dean suddenly tenses beneath my hand.
He looks away, his jaw muscle ticking beneath his stubble as he thinks for a moment. “My parents could barely be in the same room with each other. And when they did talk, it was usually screaming horrible, vile things about each other that no child should ever have to hear about a parent. I was twelve when they finally split up, but I saw enough to know marriage is a great way to ruin a relationship. Frankly, to have a thirty-fifth wedding anniversary seems…I don’t know…too good to be true, perhaps? Is that image your parents are putting out right now real? Do you truly think they are still in love?”
My face twists as his question triggers a horrifying memory.
“What?” Dean asks, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s with that face?”
I groan and press my forehead into his hard chest. “Don’t make me tell this story. I’m scarred for life.”
His hand squeezes tightly around my waist, his thumb digging into my hip. “Now you have to tell me.”
I lick my lip and tilt my chin up to whisper in his ear. “Last summer, I came home to borrow my mom’s porcelain soufflé dishes.”
“Naturally,” Dean deadpans.
“Anyway, I let myself in with my key, and I caught them.” An uncontrollable shudder runs through me as a horrific image of them reemerges in my head.
“Caught them?” Dean asks like he can’t begin to imagine what I mean.
“I caught them,” I repeat dramatically for emphasis because surely, Dean isn’t this dense.
“What are you talking about?”
“They were boning in my dad’s recliner, Dean,” I exclaim, and Dean quickly claps his hand over my mouth and shushes me as both of us erupt into uncontrollable giggles.
Dean releases his hand and wraps his arms around my waist, his entire body vibrating with silent laughter as he hugs me to him and whispers, “Seriously? A recliner?”
“His recliner.” I clasp my hands together behind his neck and do my best to contain my laughter, but it’s no use. I giggle even more into his chest because I can’t think of a less sexy piece of furniture to have sex on. I tilt up to add quietly into his ear, “The worst part is that it was one of those automatic ones, and my mother’s leg must have been bumping the remote because while she was on top of him, it was reclining backward.”
Dean jerks back to gaze down at me, his entire face lit up with amusement. “How long were you watching, you pervert?”
“Shut up!” I squeeze his neck in warning. “I was frozen in shock for like five seconds. It was enough to hear the sound of the motor or whatever…I’m scarred for life now. I’ll never be able to sit in a recliner again.”
Dean laughs and pulls me a little closer as we both try to catch our breath. “Nothing says true love like a power recliner.”
I sigh and glance over at my parents again. They are pretty damn cute, even if my mother is a pain in my ass.
The next couple of hours fly by, and despite my earlier thoughts, I’m actually having a good time. Dean smiles perfectly in all the photos and visits with everyone so easily. He even convinces one of my mother’s friends to host their weekly book club meetings at the bakery. My mother is in that damn club and has never once suggested that to them. Even my father was impressed by Dean’s predictions about my franchise expansion. It was exactly what I was hoping for tonight. In fact, the night has been going so smoothly I sort of forget this is all supposed to be fake. Having Dean by my side feels natural.
Dean is just dragging me back out to the dance floor for one of my favorite Heart cover songs when my mother’s voice peals from behind me. “Norah, look who’s finally here.”
My hand tightens around Dean’s, and I desperately want to turtle shell my way out of this meet and greet and run for the hills. Dean gives my hand an encouraging squeeze, and I exhale heavily. This is why he’s here. This is what we’ve been breaking all the rules for all night long. I can do this.