Family Ties

“Oh look,” I said, “another kitchen table.”

Her eyes widened.

“Mmm hmm. I definitely need to fuck you on a kitchen table.”

“Oh my gosh.”

“When you’re ready,” I told her softly. I kissed her again, but without the heat from before. “Till then, you’ll just have to imagine it.”

She let out her breath with a soft groan.

“Two can play the teasing game,” I said with a grin.

“You can say that again. No, don’t!”

My grin widened, and she returned it before she kissed me again.

“We have to stop,” she said at last, breathless.

“Yeah. Are you ready to head back?”

“I think so. Are you?” She glanced down. She couldn’t see my erection,

but she knew it was there.

“Yeah. He’ll go soft on the drive back. Just… don’t look at him. He might think you’re interested.”

“I am interested. Just… later. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She uncrossed her ankles, and I set her on the floor. Her apron caught on my hard-on and left it bobbing gently. She grinned at the sight of it, but then her expression changed.

For a moment I thought she might drop to her knees and blow me then and there, but she controlled herself and looked away. I didn’t say anything and neither did she, but we both knew. I silently cursed my rule and conjured a smile to hide my disappointment. Christy took a deep, steadying breath.

“We’d better go,” I said at last. “Being alone with you is dangerous.”

She nodded and helped me carry the towels to the car.

My erection had softened to half-mast by the time we returned to the clubhouse. It was still full and thick, but not so stiff that it stuck out. Susan did her best to hide a grin as I returned her car keys. Christy seemed relieved when no one said anything about how long we’d been gone or why we were both flushed with excitement.

I sent her back to work with a quick kiss. Then I took the stack of towels to where Kirk and Doug had assembled a long table out of several smaller ones. I walked around and dropped a towel on each chair. Most of them had padded vinyl seats, which were a nuisance with bare skin.

The women started bringing food over almost immediately. Dinner was simple but abundant: spaghetti with meatballs, garlic bread, and a huge tossed salad.

Christy managed to hide her look of dismay when Susan handed her a plate of pasta with several meatballs.

“Let me know when you’re ready for more,” she said.

“I will, thanks,” Christy said. Then she looked at me with pleading eyes.

Don’t worry, I told her silently. I moved my own plate toward hers and stabbed one of her meatballs with my fork.

“What’re you doing, Paul?” Erin protested. “Those are hers.”

Christy looked at me again and begged me not to say anything. She even tried to push my hand away.

“Get your own,” Erin said.

Mom gestured. “Hand me your plate, Paul.”

“No, it’s fine,” Christy said. “He can have mine. I—”

“She doesn’t eat meat,” I told them. “And she’s too polite to say anything.”

“Oh, thank God,” Dawn said out of the blue.

Kirk looked chagrined.

“I thought I was the only one.”

Everyone shifted their attention from Christy to Dawn.

“I’m a vegetarian too,” she explained.

“Is that all?” Susan said. “For heaven’s sake, why didn’t you just tell us?”

Then she looked horrified. “Oh my goodness! And I asked you to make the meatballs.”

It was Dawn’s turn to look chagrined. “It was all I could do not to gag.”

Susan turned her gaze on her son and glared. “Kirk Edward MacLean, why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been trying to feed this poor girl meat since I first met her. Almost two years!” Her expression softened as she looked back to Dawn. “You should’ve told me. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Dawn said. “I didn’t want to make a fuss.”

“Bless your heart. But make a fuss next time! I don’t mind. I want you to be happy.”

“Thank you.”

I’d just started to relax when Susan turned her high-intensity look to me.

“And you should know better too. You and Kirk! I thought we raised you better than that. Both of you! If your girlfriends don’t like something but are too polite to speak up, it’s your job to have a quiet word with one of us.”

I felt a sudden fit of pique. “Why? Because we’re the men?”

“No,” Susan said with deliberate calm, “because we’re your family and you know us better than they do. So if they’re uncomfortable about something, it’s your responsibility to make it right. I’d tell them the same thing if they were my daughters and you were the ones who had a problem.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed! Did you think this was a man-woman thing? It isn’t. It’s common courtesy!” She drew breath for another lash of the whip, but changed her mind when my mom laid a hand over hers.

“I think they understand,” Mom assured her. “And… maybe you’re a little embarrassed that you didn’t figure it out sooner? About Dawn?” She caressed Susan’s hand to take the sting out of her words.

“Maybe you’re right,” Susan admitted.

“No ‘maybe’ about it.”

Susan nodded and then smiled at her with such tenderness that my breath caught in my throat. Christy’s hand found mine under the table and squeezed.