It's Just Dinner

Brody skipped Thursday's happy hour, but he picked me up after and drove me home before he went home for the night.  He said Cassie had sent her resume and he was impressed by it and was going to have her come in for an interview.  I was surprised she had sent it already, but she had seemed excited about the idea when I had texted her earlier today.

"So," he said after updating me about that.  "Next week is Thanksgiving.  You still want to come, right?"  I nodded apprehensively.  He glanced at me and chuckled.  "Don't be nervous, seriously.  At least not for Thanksgiving."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, my anxiety increasing.

He paused before continuing.  "My dad.  He always comes up for Thanksgiving.  He doesn't actually come for dinner because my mom won't invite him, but it's really the only time of the year that all the kids are in one spot, so he does individual dinners with us over the weekend."

"Oh," I said, my stomach dropping.  I had no desire to meet Brody's dad.  I didn't have a very high opinion of him and he didn't sound very nice.  "Thanks for not telling me that before I agreed to go!" I tried to keep my tone light and joking, but I don't think it came out as light as I was going for.

"It'll be fine.  It's just dinner," Brody assured me.  "But if you're really uncomfortable with it, you can stay at my mom's while I go with him.  I'm sure my sister would love someone to hang out with."  The idea of hanging out with his family without him was even more scary.  "Or, you can take my car and go to a coffee shop or the mall for an hour or something.  You don't have to decide now."  He looked uneasy now too.  Was he upset that I was balking at meeting his dad?

I took a deep breath, "You're right, it'll be fine," I said, aiming for a breezy tone.

"My mom lives outside of Colorado Springs," he said, changing the subject quickly.  "Dinner is always at 4, so I thought I could spend Wednesday night at your place and we could leave around lunchtime on Thursday.  Dinner with my dad is usually Friday, so we can head back here Saturday afternoon."

"Sounds good," I agreed.

"I'm really happy you're coming," he said, slipping his hand around mine.  "I'll brief you on the family on the way down."  I nodded.

We were at my house by this point, sitting in the driveway in his idling SUV.  He turned it off and got out.  As I was unlocking my door, his phone rang.  He looked at it and frowned, then looked up at me.  "Go ahead," I said, taking off my shoes and closing the door.  He sat on the steps and had a quick conversation before hanging up.

"Sorry," he said, shoving his phone back into his pocket.  I shrugged.  "I'd better go."  We kissed goodbye and he left me alone with my anxious thoughts about Thanksgiving.

The next week flew by.  Brody ended up flying to Dallas Sunday morning to deal with a client issue, and he didn't get back until Tuesday.  By the time we went out for dinner on Wednesday, I was a bundle of nerves.  I was quiet while we waited for our food.

"Is everything okay?" Brody asked.  "You're very quiet."  I nodded and looked over his shoulder.

He reached across the table for my hand and I jumped when his fingers brushed mine.  "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure you're lying," he prodded gently.  I blushed.  For a second I considered denying it, but since Brody had turned off his phone when we sat down, I figured I could try to be open for once.

"You're right.  You know I'm super anxious about tomorrow," I started.  He nodded, running a finger over my knuckles.  "I have a really great track record of royally fucking up my first time meeting boyfriends' parents.  So, I'm terrified I'm going to do that, and your family is going to hate me, and I care because I want them to like me because, well, because it's important."  I stopped and took a deep breath, trying to stop the rambling.  Brody squeezed my hand.  "And if I'm nervous to meet your mom and siblings, I'm positively terrified to meet your dad.  You've made him sound, well, not terribly friendly."  Brody laughed at this.

"Well, that's accurate," he agreed.  "Go on."

"And to be honest, I'm really mad at him." I stopped.  Brody didn't look surprised.  He didn't say anything, so I kept going.  "I'm mad at him for yanking you back to Miami and everything that happened because of it.  And at the same time, I'm worried he's going to hate me and somehow influence you to hate me too."  There we go.

Our food came then, and we put the conversation on hold while our server set down plates and refilled waters.  When he left, Brody looked at me.  "My dad has lost all his influence over me now that he doesn't own my company and my job," he said firmly.  "Going head to head with him to negotiate his demand for my change in position is probably one of the most nerve racking things I've ever done, and I did it because of you.  So if I can manage that, I'm pretty sure I can resist him trying to get me to not like you, if he even tries."  I blushed again, feeling a little silly.

"And," he continued, looking at me seriously, "I don't blame you one bit for being angry at him.  I'm still a little angry about the whole thing too.  I don't expect you to like him.  In fact, I will be shocked if you do.  I'm fully aware of what a dick he is.  But, I want my family to know you, and it will help me get through dinner with him if you're there."  I nodded.  His words had relieved some of the pressure of meeting his dad.   "Anything else bothering you?" he asked, studying my face.

"No," I said, smiling.  "That was all, and I do feel a little better."

"Good," he said, his face relaxing.  The rest of dinner went a little more smoothly and I felt much more relaxed.  After dinner, he parked his SUV in my driveway and grabbed his bag out of the back.  It was already 9:30 by the time we got inside.  I was glad we didn't have to be up early to go tomorrow.  Little things.

"You still look stressed," Brody commented as I got some water from the kitchen.

"I am.  I mean, work this week was just not good, even for a short week.  And I'll probably have crises to come back to on Monday, because that's what happens on holidays.  I haven't heard back from any of the places I've applied to yet, and I'm not sure how much longer I can keep my head above water at this place," I admitted.

He hugged me.  "I think you're the one that needs a massage this time," he said.  He pressed both thumbs into the base of my skull before working down my neck.

I leaned into his touch, flinching a little as he hit a sore spot.  "If you're trying to seduce me," I said with a smirk, "your chances are 100%."  He laughed at my spin on his warning from last week and leaned down to kiss the back of my neck.

"In that case, I guess we'd better go upstairs and do this the right way, huh?" he asked, pointing me towards the stairs.  Once up there, he worked out all the knots in my neck and back before moving to my arms, then my legs.  When his hands began kneading the muscles of my inner thighs, I flipped over and stared up at him.  He wasn't able to hold my gaze for long, and his eyes drifted down over my naked body.

I reached up for his hands and pulled him down to the bed with me.  "This massage better come with a happy ending," I said, sliding my hands under his shirt and tugging at his belt.  I got it undone and went for the button and zipper next.

"I think that can be arranged," he said.  His lips found mine and his right hand moved up to cup my breast, his thumb brushing across my nipple.  I pulled at his shirt, and he stood up long enough to pull it off and step out of his pants.  He pushed my knees apart and lowered his head between my legs.  I gasped as his tongue touched me but was soon pulling him back up.  He nudged my knees further apart and pushed into me.  I moaned and wrapped my legs around his back.  He moved slowly on top of me, and I dug my fingers into his arms.

After, I laid curled against Brody's side with my head on his chest.  He wrapped both arms around me, pulling me tightly against him.  "Feeling any better?" he asked.  I nodded, tracing abstract patterns across his shoulder with one finger. 

"Just tired now," I replied.

"That's way easier to deal with," Brody said.  He ran his fingers lightly up and down my arm.  The repetitive sensation was soothing and quickly put me to sleep.