Page 96 of Her Filthy Grump
One week later, we pull into Layla’s parent’s driveway. To say I’m nervous is an understatement. They know we’re seeing each other but they don’t know about our engagement, the baby, or that we’re moving in together before the wedding.
Her mom sounds like a sweet woman. Her dad. Well, I already know Chief Monroe is a ballbuster. So if he objects, I’m not sure what I’m going to do. It’s not like we can put the frosting back in the tube. The damage is already done.
“Would you stop fidgeting.” Layla bats at my upper arm as I throw the pickup into park.
“That’s easy for you to say. They’re not deciding if they’re letting you into the family.” I drum my fingertips on the steering wheel.
“You’re ridiculous.” She places her hand on the handle. “My mom will love you, and my dad is a teddy bear.”
“More like a grizzly bear,” I mutter under my breath.
“Are those the ones you play dead to avoid? Or are they the ones where you march up to them and punch them in the face.”
“Funny.” I glare at her. “And don’t you dare open that door. I’m sure they have their faces plastered to the window. I don’t want them thinking I’m not going to take care of their little girl.”
She winks and giggles. “You took outstanding care of me this morning.”
I waggle my eyebrows. “Yes, I did.” I open the door and round the front of the pickup. Layla makes me happy. A couple of months ago, I wouldn’t have believed it was possible to be this content.
In bed, we’re lights out amazing together, but that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Her sense of humor fits mine perfectly.
The only issue is her phone has a built-in camera, and she’s constantly snapping photos of me. In the bathroom. When I’m asleep. In the kitchen. And I never have clothes on.
This is a problem. If she ever accidentally hits send on one of those puppies, I’m going to be humiliated. How do you show your face in town when your dicks on display for everyone? I wear clothes. Frequently. But there isn’t one photo on her camera roll of me with a stitch of clothes on.
Before I can grasp the door, it’s yanked open, and a woman with red hair and green eyes smiles. “Boy, you are handsome. I never noticed the color of your eyes.”
I stop in mid-step and grab Layla’s hand. “What does she mean by that?”
Her eyes are huge and innocent as she looks up. “You’ve had to work almost every night since you got back, and I wanted mom to see what you looked like.”
“What did I look like?” My jaw is tight. Image after image flashes through my mind, and my horror grows larger.
“Pft.” She smacks my chest. “I cropped the good stuff out.”
“Much to my disappointment.” Her mom shakes her head. “Layla’s always been an amazing photographer. She caught all the good angles except for….” She waves her hands in front of my pelvis. “Anything below the Adonis belt. Much to my disappointment.”
“Layla?”
“Don’t be a prude. My parents had to have had sex, or I wouldn’t be here.” She grabs my hand and drags me forward.
Well, this is not how I envisioned this encounter going. At least I haven’t had to play dead or punch anyone in the face. I slap a smile on my face and pretend this situation isn’t one of the most embarrassing ones I’ve encountered. “Hello, Mrs. Monroe. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh, how sweet.” She grabs me in a bear hug and pats my back. “Good looking and a charmer.”
When she stands back, she studies me. “Layla says you’re permanently moving here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Please, call me, Katherine.” She waves dismissively. “We’re not formal here.”
“Katherine.” I nod and wait for her next question. It’s like being grilled by a twenty-year older version of Layla.
“And you’re a fireman, like my Alan?”
“Yes. I’ve worked as a fireman since I was twenty-one. I’m also working toward a degree in business administration and finance.”
“Oh.” Her eyes glow. “That will come in handy as Layla advances her photography business. Ever since she was a little girl, she’s been dying to have a studio of her own.”