Borrowing Trouble (14 page)

“I’ll let you know.”

“What are you kids’ plans for this weekend?” asked Jimmy.

“Having dinner with Marisa’s parents tomorrow,” replied Trip, squeezing my hand while simultaneously draining a glass of wine. Bitsy’s eyes sparkled and her smile widened.

Oh, no. Bad idea. I know that look. That’s the I’m-finally-going-to-get-grandkids look. Mom’s had it a few times.

“That is so nice,” she practically squealed. Jimmy shook his head at me, catching my eyes. I gently shrugged.
I didn’t bring it up. Blame your son.

“Where are y’all going?”

“We haven’t talked about it, but I was thinking about inviting them over to the house. Since they welcomed me into their home, I thought it might be fitting.”

“You’ve met Marisa’s parents?” Jimmy asked in amazement. Now it was his turn to have visible thoughts of grandchildren dance across his face. “When did that happen?”

“Oh, what about two months ago? A while before we went down to the beach, they had me over for Sunday dinner.” I nodded in agreement, hoping Jimmy would do the math and realize that Trip liked me enough to meet my parents well before he sought his dad’s permission to, um, date me.

“That would be very appropriate, Trip,” assured a greatly pleased Bitsy.

“I thought about just meeting them at Café Piazza in Collierville. I don’t know what their plans are for tomorrow and I’m not sure they want to come all the way downtown,” I hedged.

“Well, let’s call after dinner and see if that works for them.” Trip pushed back from the table. “I hate to end this, Mom and Dad, but I’m exhausted. I slept some on the plane, but I’m still on London time, which means it’s like four am for me.”

We walked out of the country club, bid our goodbyes to Trip’s parents, and I climbed into his car. Dropping into the passenger seat, I exhaled. “Whew. That was exhausting. Craziest day ever. You’ve got to be bushed. Why don’t you drop me off at my place and we’ll chat tomorrow?”

“Why would you say that?” He paused holding the door open.

“You were just talking about how you’re on London time and you want to crash.”

“No. I just believe I got us out of dessert. Now we’re going home.” He closed the door and walked around. My eyes followed his lithe and tired frame lope around the car to the driver’s side. He fell into the seat, cranked the car, placed his right hand on my left knee and took us home.
Yes, home
.

             
Chapter Twenty-three

I woke up Saturday morning and ran a slow five miles. When I returned, Trip’s house was still silent. I fed myself the yogurt and granola that Bitsy had dropped off.

Looks like someone has figured out that I like strawberry. Whether she’s going through the trash or just noting which containers are missing, I’m damn impressed.
I turned on the coffeemaker, happy that unlike Josh, Trip had a normal coffeemaker.
Josh.
I’m a crappy friend.

I hadn’t called Erica all week. At first I wanted to give her space to deal with Josh’s sudden arrival home after so long away. Then I got caught up in my own head, as so often happens. I grabbed my phone out of my black satin clutch, which was on the breakfast table where I’d tossed it once Trip began to ravish me as soon as we’d gotten into the house last night.

I fixed a large mug of hot, milky coffee, still amazed that someone could be out of town for a week and come home to fresh dairy products. As much as Bitsy’s arrival yesterday afternoon had been extremely unfortunate, it did come with some upsides. Namely in the form of breakfast.

I shouldn’t be a bitch about her being here or be too ashamed that I’m here. It’s her son. He’s my boyfriend. We’re adults. As long as she doesn’t hate me, I’m sure we’ll just go the next however long pretending that it never happened.

I hopped up on the island, took a sip of coffee, and dialed Erica.

“Hey,” I said, when she answered. “Still on for tomorrow night?”

“We’re going to reschedule. Josh has to go back this afternoon.”

“Really? I thought he was staying?”

“Something about a big meeting on Monday that he has to prepare for. Then he started going all quant on me. Metrics, this, code, that. Even though I don’t know math or computers, it was clearly bullshit. It was easier just to let him go than to listen to him try to fabricate a story on the spot. Whatever is going on with him, he still hasn’t told me what’s really up.”

“I’m sorry. We can move back dinner or we can still come or we can meet somewhere.”

Erica sighed into the phone. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, well in that case, it’s me, you, and the kids for an easy dinner out. How about Pete and Sam’s?”

Erica laughed. “Pete and Sam’s? Is that place still open?”

“Let me check. It just sounds like you need some serious comfort carbs and Pete and Sam’s lasagna seems to fit the bill,” I said, pulling up Yelp on Trip’s iPad. “Yes, it’s still around and based on the reviews, it sounds like it hasn’t changed since we were kids. Huge portions of homey Italian in a building without windows.”

“Oh! I’d forgotten about that. I mainly remember the tired wallpaper. A tiny floral.”

“Leave it to the artist to remember the wallpaper.”

“Okay, it’s done. Five-thirty tomorrow at Pete and Sam’s. Wear stretchy pants.”

“Marisa, I’m a suburban mom. It’s an amazing day when I’m
not
wearing yoga pants.”

***

I stood in the shower with Trip behind me, lathering shampoo through my hair. “What do you want to do today?”

“This,” I answered, luxuriating in the feeling of his fingers on my scalp in the steamy shower.
Can we just stay like this forever?

“You read my mind.”

“What?” I said, snapping out of my reverie.
Did I just say that aloud?

“Let’s stay like this forever.” He enfolded me in his arms and rested his chin on my shoulder. “Is that so crazy?”

Is he saying what I think he’s saying? No way. Clearly no. We’ve just started dating. We’ve known each other a few months. But that’s not what I want. I want him. Forever.

“Probably,” I whispered, my heart filling and aching from so much love mixed with fear of verbalizing the truth.

“Good. Glad we’re on the same page,” he said, releasing me. As I stepped under the streaming water to rinse my hair, he smacked my ass. “It will make negotiations go much more smoothly.”

After a little slippery play, Trip fixed his oatmeal breakfast. “Do you have any decaf?” I called from the walk-in pantry. “I’m trying to cut back on caffeine on the weekends, so I get a good kick on Monday mornings.”

“Not sure. If you can’t find any, I’ll ask for some.”

I stepped out of the pantry empty handed. “No, if you don’t have any, I’ll get some at Kroger.”

“You don’t have to do that. Ophelia can pick some up.”

“Did you just forget what happened yesterday?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. So, what do you want to do about that? Let’s be honest. It’s not like I’m going to start grocery shopping. I’m mean you’re cute, but I’ve already gone to the grocery store once for you. That’s probably enough for a lifetime.”

I couldn’t tell if he was kidding or being serious about the horror he had experienced by going to Whole Foods. “Did you have a traumatic childhood experience at the grocery store or something? You do realize that most adults go to the grocery store.”

“No, no traumatic childhood experience. I just don’t like it. If grocery delivery were a thing in Memphis, I’d do that. Instead, my mom just handles it. It works for me.”

“Well, it’s not my house, so how about this: She’ll call before she stops by, right?”

Trip nodded.

“And I haven’t met Ophelia yet and don’t want to have a similar ‘Hi, I’m Marisa’ experience with her. Again, it’s not my house, but can you ask her to check first?”

“Fair enough. Does this mean that I might come home to my own centerfold one day?”

“And if I want decaf coffee, I’ll bring my own,” ignoring his comment even as my cheeks burned.

“That’s just silly, but it’s your life.”

“Trip, I’m not looking to you or your mom or your mom’s housekeeper to take care of me.”

“It’s fucking coffee. I’m not arguing with you about coffee. Christ.” Trip scrubbed a hand through his sandy hair and across his face. He set down his empty oatmeal bowl on the counter and opened his arms. “Come here.”

I walked toward him feeling like crap.

He just got home and we’re in a fight? A fight about who buys the coffee? I am the bad guy here.

As soon as his arms wrapped around me, I rested my head on his chest and my thoughts shifted.

Don’t fuck this up, Marisa. Don’t. It doesn’t matter who buys the coffee. Get over yourself. This is what matters.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I’m really sorry.”

“No. But let’s not fight about coffee. I know this isn’t about coffee. Let’s just go one step at a time, right?”

“Can’t we just forget about the past twenty-four hours?”

“No. In fact you spread like a centerfold is all I’ve been thinking about.”

I pushed back from him, but didn’t leave his arms. “Are you serious? You’ve been back for less than a day and we’ve been at it like rabbits ever since we got home last night.”

“Not complaining. Though the phone has been nice, it’s not you.”

“I know,” I sighed back into him.

But I really want this to be more than sex. It’s more than sex for me.

“Okay, so we survived last night.”

“Arguably,” I laughed. “But yes, we survived.”

“Tonight is round two with your parents. What do you want to do about that? Dinner here okay?”

“Hold that thought.” I reached for my beeping phone and read the text:
Josh is staying in town. Dinner’s back on at our house.

“Can you go three rounds?”

“Pretty sure you already know that.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled.
He never stops.
“We’ve been invited to Sunday dinner at Josh and Erica’s. So, yes or no?”

“Of course yes, if you think we should go, we’ll go.”

“We should go.”

“Done. Okay, so dinner tonight? What about grilling steaks?”

“Sounds good. Will you go to the grocery with me?”

“It’s not like I have an allergy. It’s just not how I like to spend my time, but I can go.”

“Okay. Great. Here’s the other thing about my parents coming over here. I’m going to have to leave.”

His head cocked and his blue eyes stared at me in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I just can’t stay here after dinner. That’s just going to be awkward. I don’t want them knowing that I’m here
here.
”

He shook his head. “What about Shithead? It was okay they knew you lived with Shithead, but not okay that you’re spending time with me?”

“That was never talked about.”

“You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack, which is what would happen if either of my parents thought I was ‘living in sin,’ ” I answered, employing air quotes.

“So how did that work?”

“We just avoided the conversation. And he officially rented a room in a friend’s apartment.”

“Wow. That’s some serious deception. So they think you’re like some thirty year old virgin?”

“Again, not something we’ve ever talked about or will ever talk about.”

“Okay, whatever. Can I give you your present now?”

“You got me a present?”

“Well, it’s for our mutual enjoyment.”

“Trip, you really can’t say things like that in front of other people.”

“I like where your mind is, Miss Tanner, but that isn’t what I’m talking about. Come on.” He grabbed my hand and led me through the living room to a closed door on the far side of the house.

Oh, dear God, he really is into BDSM and this is his dungeon. Holy fuck.

He turned the handle and pushed the door open.

Oh, an exercise room.

“You like it?”

“Sure,” I replied, surveying the rack of weights, a bike on some sort of stand, a TV suspended from the ceiling, a treadmill, and some yoga mats on the floor in the otherwise bare room. “Nice home gym.”

“No, your present. The treadmill.”

“You got me a treadmill?”

“Yes. Winter is coming and since you run and I bike, I thought we could exercise together in the mornings.”

Wow. That’s forward thinking. He wants me here in the winter?

“Winter’s a long way off, Trip.”

He shook his head and smiled. “Don’t fight me on this. I’m going to the dreaded grocery store for you.”

I laughed and kissed him. “You are lovely.”

“So are you. Okay, so early dinner here, then you can drive around the block or do whatever it is to keep up your virginal charade with your parents. I’ll be here.”

We played happy couple at the grocery store. Trip once again morphed into his playful state and made a beeline toward each of the tasting displays, bringing me back samples to try.

“Wow, hunting
and
gathering for me. You are quite the catch, caveman,” I teased, taking a proffered cube of cheese.

“Me go to Switzerland. Me get woman cheese. Groo-yeer.”

I rolled my eyes and popped the gruyere into my mouth. “Good caveman. So, steaks? Fish? What do you want to grill?”

“Is it wrong to say since I’m cooking for your dad, I’m going to feel like less of a man if I don’t serve him a hunk of cow?”

“Don’t have some venison in a deep freezer from a buck that you took bow hunting?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, pretty sure that’s what my dad would serve you, if he wanted to impress you.”

“Yeah, so, I don’t hunt.”

“Didn’t think so. I’m quite happy with a caveman who knows European cheeses.” I leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Good. So, how about some locally-raised grass-fed filet mignon?”

“Applewood bacon-wrapped?”

“I’m never letting you go,” he pulled me away from the grocery cart and into his arms.

“Get a room,” a male voice called. Our heads swiveled to find Josh manically grinning at us. “Hey, man,” he stuck out his hand and he and Trip shook. “You guys going to be able to not do that in front of the kids tomorrow night?”

“No promises. I might make it through dinner, but I’m definitely having her for dessert”

Holy shit. Did he just say that? To Josh? In the middle of Whole Foods?

“Man,” said Josh with a whistle. “Marisa Tanner quiet. You don’t appreciate how rare this is. I’m leaving before she slaps you and then tells Erica it was my fault and I have more apologizing to do.”

“Is this some weird male-bonding? Because I’m totally going to call Erica and then you’ll really have some apologizing to do.”

Josh raised his hands in surrender and backed away slowly, rubbing his jaw. “Fine, I’ve already been apologizing so much my jaw is sore. See you tomorrow night.”

Seriously.
“Seriously?” I turned to Trip. “You guys share one meal a couple of months ago and now feel like you can share that much?”