Trust Me

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Anderson.”

  Mom’s hand fluttered near her neck, and she pressed it hard against her chest. “You too.”

  “I brought you some flowers. I hope you like lilies and roses.”

  Gabe handed over the bouquet. Her mom couldn’t take her eyes off him. Not even when she accepted his gift. Melanie was pretty sure her mother had gone into shock. While Melanie grabbed a vase from a nearby cabinet and filled it with water, Gabe attempted small talk.

  “You have a lovely home, Mrs. Anderson. Uh, and a great dog.”

  “Lucy?” Mom asked, glancing down at the gray-mustached dog at Gabe’s feet who was staring up at him adoringly. “Lucy hates strangers.”

  “Well, she obviously loves Gabe,” Melanie said, taking the flowers out of her mom’s hands and sticking them in the vase. “He has a couple of Labradors.”

  “Is that right?” Mom said, finally allowing her eyes a swift blink.

  “Lady and Beau,” Gabe said.

  “Could you carry this out to the deck?” Melanie asked, handing a bowl of potato salad to Gabe. He took it and turned, looking for the way out to the deck. Visible through the sliding doors, a big plume of smoke billowed from the grill as Dad manned the fire with his back to them. Gabe headed in that direction, Lucy on his heels, and Melanie reached for the bowl of coleslaw. Mom lifted a pitcher of lemonade and grabbed Melanie’s arm.

  “You didn’t warn me that he was gorgeous,” Mom said, leaning close to whisper in Melanie’s ear. “I made a fool of myself.”

  Melanie blinked at her. That was why she’d been staring at Gabe like that, because she thought he was good looking? Melanie laughed. “Hey, Mom,” she whispered so Gabe didn’t overhear, “my new boyfriend is very easy on the eyes. Don’t step on your tongue.”

  “Mel!” she admonished, but then she laughed. “Actually, that is a possibility.”

  Gabe slid the door open and waited for both women—and the dog—to exit before he followed them out.

  “Thank you for the flowers,” Mom said to Gabe as she passed him. “They’re lovely. And please, call me Linda.”

  “You’re very welcome, Linda,” he said, pulling the glass door closed behind them.

  Melanie couldn’t stop herself from touching his arm as she stood beside him.

  “You look just like your mom,” Gabe said.

  “Everyone says that,” she said, “but I have my dad’s eyes.” She set her bowl on the rectangular table, and Gabe followed her lead with his bowl.

  “Daddy?” she said, wondering why he hadn’t turned around. He had to know they’d come outside. Lucy was standing on her back legs right beside him, begging for a rib.

  “Just about ready,” he said, closing the lid on his smoky charcoal grill.

  He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and then turned. She watched Dad search Gabe’s face, the sides of his head that the hat didn’t conceal, and the little hint of a tattoo at his collar, and then narrow his eyes at the tattoos peeking out at each wrist.

  “I assume you’re wearing long sleeves in late June to hide something,” Dad said, his hazel eyes boring into Gabe’s emerald green ones.

  “Out of respect, actually,” Gabe said, not breaking eye contact.

  “Mark,” Mom said, moving next to him and kissing her perturbed-looking husband on the cheek. “You promised.”

  “I promised I wouldn’t castrate him on sight.”

  “Daddy!” Melanie said, laying a hand on Gabe’s back to let him know his junk was safe. If necessary, she’d defend his nether parts with her life.

  “I didn’t promise to like him,” Dad added.

  “You haven’t even given him a chance,” Melanie said.

  “If Melanie were my daughter, I wouldn’t have let me in the front door,” Gabe said with a disarming smile.

  Dad seemed to like his answer. He actually laughed and offered his hand for a measuring handshake. He seemed to like the handshake as well, because it was accompanied by a hard clap on Gabe’s opposite arm.

  “I hope you like ribs,” Dad said, turning back to the grill and opening the lid. A fragrant plume of smoke puffed toward the cloudless sky, and tongs in hand, Dad removed the ribs from the grill and placed them on a huge platter.

  “If they taste half as good as they smell, I’m in for a treat,” Gabe said.

  “They’re always delicious,” Melanie said, sidling up to her father to kiss his cheek. “How was your week?”

  “Just fine,” Dad said. “We missed you Wednesday night.”

  She usually had dinner with them at least once a week, but had been dealing with Nikki’s admission into the hospital most of the day on Wednesday. She hadn’t told her parents why she’d turned down a home-cooked meal, just that she was busy.

  “Haven’t seen much of you for the past couple of weeks, to be honest. Does this fella have something to do with that?” Dad nodded toward Gabe, who was helping her mom fill glasses of lemonade.

  “He might,” she said. “He’s important to me, Daddy, or I wouldn’t have brought him to meet you.”

  “Not sure how you got him to agree to that.”

  “It was his idea.”

  “That so?” Dad assessed Gabe even more closely as he added the platter of BBQ-sauce-encrusted ribs to the center of the table.

  “Family is important to me, sir,” Gabe said.

  There was no doubting his sincerity.

  Dad’s eyes narrowed marginally. “That so?”

  “I’ve met his parents already,” Melanie said. “You’d like them. They’re both doctors. His sisters are also doctors. I haven’t actually met them yet, but I’m sure they’re as awesome as the rest of his family. And he’s great with dogs. You know what they say about men who are good with dogs. They make great fathers. Not that I’m pregnant or anything. I just wanted to assure you that family really is important to him—he wasn’t just saying that to impress you—and . . . I’ll shut up now.” She didn’t know why she was babbling. Probably because she so wanted her parents to accept the man she loved. She didn’t want to have to give up her close bond with her family to be with Gabe, but she would. At least Mom seemed to like him. Based on her appreciative stare, perhaps a little too much.

  “So,” Dad said, taking a seat in his usual spot at the head of the table. The rest of them found chairs as well, with Gabe across from him, and his women at either side. “Family of doctors, huh? What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m not sure at the moment.”

  “He plays drums for a famous rock band.” Melanie squeezed his hand under the table.

  “Of course he does,” Dad said with a frown.

  “The band’s on rocky ground right now,” Gabe said in a tone far calmer than he usually used when talking about Sole Regret’s troubles. “I’m currently trying to decide my next move. Start a business. Go back to school. Try to get my band straightened out.” He shrugged and scooped a pile of potato salad onto his plate.

  “I dated a musician right after high school,” Mom said, her chin in her hand as she gazed at Gabe.

  “You see how well that turned out,” Dad said, sawing between ribs with a huge chef knife. Gabe eyed the sharp instrument warily.

  “I never knew that,” Melanie said. “I thought you and Dad were high school sweethearts.”

  “We were,” Mom said, “but we broke up for a few months before we came to our senses and decided it was meant to be.”

  Dad reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I’m glad you came to your senses.”

  “Me too, but those three months with Darryl sure were fun.”

  Melanie blinked at her mother. How come Mom had never told her that she’d dated some musician named Darryl?

  “He played guitar,” Mom elaborated. “In the backup band for a country singer. I think he still does, but I’m not sure. We lost touch long ago.”

  “He wasn’t right for you, Linda,” Dad said, and Melanie recognized bitterness in the ti
ght press of his lips.

  “No, he wasn’t.” Mom leaned closer to Gabe to whisper, “But he was a lot of fun.”

  As Mom leaned away, her eyes focused on the side of Gabe’s head where a hint of dragon claw was visible beneath the brim of his hat.

  “Do you have something on your head?” she asked.

  Gabe went entirely still, a forkful of coleslaw halfway to his mouth. “Uh, just a little ink.”

  Mom grinned. “You do know that if you don’t show me, I’m going to look you up on the internet and find out just what kind of rock star my daughter is tangled up with.”

  Melanie had already googled him and knew there wasn’t much incriminating evidence out there about Gabe. Compared to what she’d read about Jacob and Adam, Gabe was relatively boring. But there was a lot of commentary on his dragon tattoos.

  “You might as well show her,” Melanie said.

  After a few seconds of hesitation, he removed his hat and set it on the table beside him before picking up a rib and gnawing off a bite.

  “You’re such a nice-looking young man,” Mom said, “Why would you permanently ruin your looks?”

  Gabe turned to offer her a hard stare, and she shrank back into her chair with her hand over her chest as if he’d threatened her. He then smiled, and her shoulders relaxed.

  “That’s why,” he said.

  “I still don’t get it,” Dad said. “Or the red hair dye. What are you thinking, boy?”

  “It’s part of his image,” Melanie said. “For the band. It toughens him up.”

  “And if he ever wants to lose that image?” Dad asked.

  “I’ll grow my hair out.”

  Just in the few days he’d been off tour, a fine layer of dark brown hair had started to fill in the sides of his Mohawk.

  “Now that I’m used to them, I like your dragons,” Melanie said. She touched a spot just behind his temple where the tips of flames from the dragon’s mouth extended a few centimeters beyond his hairline. “I’m not sure they’ll be entirely covered anyway.”

  “For the most part they are. I always let my hair grow out when I’m not on tour. It’s a total pain in the ass to have to shave your head every day.”

  “You might be able to get a real job, then,” Dad said.

  Apparently the man was already comfortable enough around Gabe to offer parental criticism.

  “I might,” Gabe said.

  Melanie supposed he got similar talks from his own parents. Maybe he was used to this kind of thing, but it still annoyed her.

  “I didn’t start going out with him because he’s a rock star,” Melanie said, “but I’m proud to be his.”

  “That sounds pretty serious,” Mom said, her gaze darting to Gabe’s head whenever he was looking the other way.

  “We are serious,” Gabe said. “And I was going to wait until after dinner to do this, but now seems like a good time.”

  Gabe stood and slid his hand into the front pocket of his slacks. He went down on one knee beside Melanie’s chair, some small object in his hand. She smiled at the look of love in his eyes and was sure a similar look was showing on her face as well.

  “I planned to ask permission, but I doubt your parents will grant it, so I’ll just make this official.” He took her left hand in his and slipped a dazzling diamond ring onto her finger. “You already said yes once, but I’ll ask again anyway, this time with witnesses and a ring. Melanie Anderson, you are my one. I promise to love you as you deserve to be loved every day for the rest of my life. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

  His face blurred behind the sudden rush of tears in her eyes. “I meant it when I said I would. Ring or no ring, my answer will be the same even if you ask me a thousand times. Yes, Gabe Banner, I will marry you.”

  Her mother produced a barely perceptible squeak. Melanie forced her eyes from Gabe’s smiling face to make sure Mom was okay.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Mom said, climbing from her chair to circle the table and wrap her arms around Melanie. “I’m so glad you found someone to love.” She kissed the top of Melanie’s head, nearly smothering her against her chest.

  Melanie felt some of the strain in her spine ease. She hadn’t realized how worried she was about her parents’ reaction until her mom so easily accepted the inevitable. There was still a bit of tension in her body as she turned to her father. His face was nearly purple.

  “No daughter of mine is marrying a . . . a . . . a thug.”

  And here was the man she knew as her father. She’d wondered where he’d been hiding.

  “He’s not a thug,” Melanie said, her spine stiffening defensively. “He’s the greatest man I’ve ever known next to you.”

  Dad didn’t take that as a compliment. “Musicians are all alike—head in the clouds, impractical, self-serving destroyers of virtue.”

  Melanie didn’t know which part to laugh about. Gabe was none of those things—except the musician part—and Melanie had been far from virtuous when she’d met him.

  “Mark,” Mom said softly, “this isn’t about me and Darryl. This is about Melanie and Gabe.”

  The flush on Dad’s face seemed to be embarrassment rather than anger as he ducked his head and then stood. “I need a beer. Melanie!” he said sharply as he headed for the garage where he’d set up the little microbrewery he was so proud of.

  Melanie cringed. She was very familiar with that tone; in the past it had meant she was about to be grounded. And even though she was fully grown, living on her own and now engaged, she never wanted to disappoint her dad.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said to Gabe as she stood.

  She rubbed the unfamiliar band on her left finger and took a second look at her new diamond. She smiled, her heart brimming with happiness. The ring was perfect. Not too big, but not tiny. Like the man, it was perfect. When had Gabe found the time to get her a ring? When he’d been out test driving her car, she realized with a rush of pleasure. She glanced over her shoulder and offered him a courageous smile before entering the overwarm garage. Dad shut the door behind her.

  “What are you thinking?” he said, taking her firmly by one arm. “You cannot marry a guy like him.”

  “A guy like who? Like Gabe? I’m lucky to have him. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “You said that about the last guy.”

  She didn’t remember ever saying that about any of her previous boyfriends, but it didn’t matter. “This will be my last guy. Gabe will be my husband. You’d better get used to the idea.”

  Dad shook his head. “I’ll never get used to the idea. Will you look at him?”

  “Will you?” Melanie said, tugging her arm out of his grasp and going to the small refrigerator where Dad kept his various home brews. “Look at him, Dad, not at what’s on the outside.” Though she was undeniably attracted to that part of him as well. “But what’s on the inside. I guarantee he will surprise you.”

  “He surprised me all right,” Dad said. “At first glance he looks ordinary. But underneath?” He shook his head as if unable to believe that Gabe was real.

  “He’s anything but ordinary, Dad. He’s remarkable. I see it, and I hope someday you’ll see it too. I’m moving to Austin to live with him.” She opened the refrigerator and peeked inside. “Which beer should I try?” Maybe that question would distract him from her previous statement.

  “You’re not moving in with him.”

  “I am. And I’m marrying him. There isn’t anything you can do about it. I’m a grown woman.”

  He closed his eyes and bit his lip. After a moment, he said, “But you’re not. Not to me. To me you’ll always be my little girl.”

  “Would you give beer to a little girl?”

  He laughed and opened his eyes. She’d never seen her father cry, so the mistiness in his eyes made her own tears well up.

  “You’ve always been clever. Do you know how exasperating that is?”

  “I get that from Mom, and you must li
ke it if you married her.”

  “Take a beer to your friend and give me a minute to compose myself,” Dad said. “And you might want to hide the knife before I return to the table. I might find a new use for it.”

  “Daddy!” She pulled two beers from the fridge, closing the door with her hip. “You aren’t going to stab anyone.”

  “I believe I have a castration on my agenda.”