wrong.
“She shouldn’t meet me.”
“Why not?”
“Mothers should only meet significant others who have the potential for being around for a while.”
“Look, telling her I was dating someone was easier than showing up and there being some single female there eager to meet me and plan our future together. It’s really not as big a deal as you’re making it for you to come to my parents’ at Christmas.”
Maybe not to him, but the thought of meeting his family was a very big deal to her. She didn’t meet families. That implied things that just weren’t true.
“Obviously you haven’t been paying attention,” she pointed out. “I’ll be here on Christmas, working.”
“The shifts are abbreviated on the holidays. What time will you get off?”
“Oh, no. You’re not trapping me that way.”
He gave her an innocent look. “What way?”
“The way that whatever time I say you’re going to say, ‘Oh, that’s perfect. Just come on over when you’re finished.’”
“Hey, McKenzie?”
She frowned at him, knowing what he was about to say.
“The time you get off from the emergency room is perfect. Just come to my parents’ house when you’re finished.”
“Meeting parents implies a commitment you and I don’t have,” she reiterated.
“There’ll be lots of people there. Aunts. Uncles. Cousins. People even I’ve never met. It’s a party. You’ll have fun and it’s really not a big deal, except it saves me from my mother trying to set me up with every single nonrelated female she knows.”
How in the world had he talked her into this? McKenzie asked herself crossly as she pushed the Spencers’ doorbell.
She didn’t do this.
Only, apparently, this year she did.
Even to the point she’d made a dessert to bring with her to Lance’s parents. How corny was that?
She shouldn’t be here. She didn’t do “meet the parents.” She just didn’t.
Panic set in. She turned, determined to escape before anyone knew she was there.
At that moment the front door opened.
“You’re here.”
“Not really,” she countered. “Forget you saw me. I’m out of here.”
Shaking his head, he grinned. “Get in here.”
“I think I made a mistake.”
His brows rose. “McKenzie, you just drove almost an hour to get here and not so you could get here and leave without Christmas dinner.”
“I’ve done crazier things.” Like agree to come to Christmas dinner with Lance’s family in the first place.
“Did you make something?” He gestured to the dish she held.
“A dessert, but—”
“No buts, McKenzie. Get in here.”
She took a deep breath. He was right. She was being ridiculous. She had gotten off work, gone home, showered, grabbed the dessert she’d made the night before and typed his parents’ address into her GPS.
And driven almost an hour to get here.
“Fine, but you owe me.”
He leaned forward, kissed the tip of her nose. “Anything you want.”
“Promises. Promises.”
He grinned, took the dish from her, and motioned her inside. “I’m glad you’re here. I was afraid you’d change your mind.”
“I did,” she reminded him as she stepped into his parents’ foyer. “Only I waited a bit too late because you caught me before I could escape.”
“Then I’m glad I noticed your headlights as your car pulled into the driveway, because I missed you last night.”
He’d driven to his parents’ home the afternoon before when he’d finished seeing his patients. It had been the first evening since their frozen yogurt date that they’d not seen each other.
She’d missed him too.
Which didn’t jibe well, but she didn’t have time to think too much on it, because a pretty woman who appeared to be much younger than McKenzie knew she had to be stepped into the foyer. She had sparkly blue eyes, dark brown hair that she had clipped up, black slacks and the prettiest Christmas sweater McKenzie had ever seen. Her smile lit up her entire face.
Lance looked a lot like his mother.
“We are so glad you’re here!” she exclaimed, her Southern drawl so pronounced it was almost like something off a television show. “Lance has been useless for the past hour, waiting on you to get here.”
“Thanks, Mom. You just called me useless to my girl.” Lance’s tone was teasing, his look toward his mother full of adoration.
McKenzie wanted to go on record that she wasn’t Lance’s girl, but technically she supposed she was. At least for the time being.
“Nonsense. She knows what I meant,” his mother dismissed his claim and pulled McKenzie into a tight hug. She smelled of cinnamon and cookies.
Christmas, McKenzie thought. His mother smelled of Christmas. Not McKenzie’s past Christmases, but the way Christmas was supposed to smell. Warm, inviting, full of goodness and happiness.
“It’s nice to meet you,” McKenzie said, not quite sure what to make of her hug. Lance’s mother’s hug had been real, warm, welcoming. She couldn’t recall the last time her own mother or father had given her such a hug. Had they ever?
“Not nearly as nice as it is to finally meet one of Lance’s girlfriends.”
Did he not usually bring his girlfriends home? He’d said her being there was no big deal. If he didn’t usually bring anyone home, then her presence was a big deal. She wanted to ask, but decided it wasn’t her place because really what did it matter? She was here now. Whatever he’d done with his past girlfriends didn’t apply to her, just as what he did with her wouldn’t apply to his future girlfriends.
Future girlfriends. Ugh. She didn’t like the thought of him with anyone but her. His smile, his touch, his kisses, they belonged to her. At least for now, she reminded herself.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Lance leaned in, kissed her briefly on the mouth, then took her hand. “I hope you came hungry.”
Her gaze cut to Lance’s and she wondered if he’d read her thoughts again?
“Take a deep breath. It’s time to meet the rest of the crew,” he warned.
“Be nice, Lance. You’ll scare her off. They aren’t that bad and you know it,” his mother scolded.
Lance just winked at her.
Two hours later, McKenzie had to agree with Lance’s mother. His family wasn’t that bad. She’d met his grandparents, who were so hard of hearing they had everyone talking loudly so they could keep up with the conversation, his aunts and uncles, his cousins, and a handful of children who belonged to his cousins.
It was quite a bunch: loud, talking over one another, laughing, eating and truly enjoying each other’s company.
The