“Come on, Mom,” I groan. “I’m happy, can’t you just be happy for me?”

She crosses her arms and I catch sight of her gorgeous, red nails. “Fine, but you know I worry about you, Tia. You’re not getting any younger.”

“Gee, thanks, Mom. Next you’ll be asking how many of my pubic hairs are turning grey.”

She gasps. “Tia, watch your mouth.”

My father bursts out laughing, leaning back and wrapping a hand around his stomach. His blue eyes sparkle when he looks over to me. He loves how I wind Mom up. Shaking his head and trying to contain his laughing after Mom gives him the stink-eye, he runs his hands through his salt-and-pepper hair and gets back to his newspaper.

“How are things back home?” I ask her, trying to change the subject.

“Same as always. Betty next door is still trying to get her claws into your father.”

Here we go.

Betty, our life long next-door neighbor, has always had a thing for my dad. What can I say? The man is handsome. This has always riled my mother up, and every time I see her, she has another story about what Betty has done to try and ‘steal’ dad off her.

“That whore.” I gasp, smothering a laugh. “You should go and show her who’s boss, Mom.”

My mother straightens. “Oh, I did. She baked some cupcakes and brought them over. She knows your father loves cupcakes.” Her eyes flash. “I told her right where to put those cakes.”

I laugh softly. “Right up her bum hole, no doubt.”

“Tia!” she chastises again. “Your mouth has run away with you.”

“Actually, it ran away with Betty. The two of them are close friends.”

My father barks a laugh again, and my mother puts her nose up in disgust. I stand, walking over and wrapping my arms around her shoulders. “Calm your farm, Momma. I’m only joking.”

“I should think so.”

We spend the rest of the day just lazing about before going out to dinner that night. I haven’t heard from Reign all day, but maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t know how I feel about this situation, and I certainly don’t like how it’s probably going to end for me. Which is badly, by the way.

We arrive home just after eight p.m., full and content. We’re all laughing as we get out of the car, still teasing Mom about Betty. I hear someone clear his or her throat, and I spin around to see Reign standing at my front door. What. The. Fuck? I told him he couldn’t come over; I made it clear.

“Hey,” he says, then moves his gaze to my parents.

“Ah, Reign,” I mutter, walking over to him and leaning in close. “What the hell are you doing?”

“We have to talk,” he murmurs and then lifts his head and stares at my gaping mother.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt your time with Tia. I just need a quick word with her.”

“And who is this fine young gentleman?” my mother says, pulling herself together and sweeping past me to stretch out her perfect hand to Reign.

God, help me.

“Reign Braxton, Ma’am. You must be Tia’s mom.”

He kisses her hand and I can practically hear her swoon. Shame on you, mother.

“And you know our Tia . . . how?” my mother prods, smiling up at him.

“She works for me.”

“Isn’t that lovely?”

My father walks up, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, son.”

Reign shakes it and nods. “You too. I won’t be a minute with her.”

“Don’t be silly, come in and let me make you a cup of tea.”

Oh, God. A cup of tea. I want to groan.

Reign flashes me a cocky grin and turns to her. “I’d love to.”

Oh, no you don’t!

I reach out for him, but my mother has already dragged him in the front door. Letting out the groan, and figuring what the heck, I follow them inside. My mother is already chatting to Reign as if they’re best friends, having known each other for years and years. My dad squeezes my shoulder as he walks past me.

“She is your mother.”

I grunt. “You married her, you old fool.”

He laughs and kisses my head. “Best day of my damned life, too.”

I smile. Regardless of Betty and her old, dirty flaps, my dad has never had eyes for anyone but my mom. It makes me sad. I want a man that looks at me that way, that will never let his eyes travel to another woman’s, never forget how much he loves me and why he chose me in the first place. So many relationships end on a cruel and bitter note. I wonder when and how they forgot what it was they once adored about the other person.

“Tia,” my mom says, snapping me from my thoughts. “Reign here tells me you’re doing wonderful things for his business.”

“He’d say anything I told him to. He loves me.” I grin and he smiles.

“She’s only in it for the pay.” He winks at my mom.

“That’s my Tia. She never holds back.”

I’m so glad she’s proud of me for being . . . money hungry?

Surprisingly, Reign gets along really well with my parents, I mean super-dooper well. They laugh and joke, talk about things like fishing and cooking, and by the time he stands to leave, they actually look like they’ll miss him.

“I’m afraid I have places to be. I promise to return Tia after I’ve spoken to her. It was lovely to meet you both.”

He kisses my mom’s cheek and shakes my dad’s hand again, before turning to me with a devilish grin. “Outside, Tia?”