“Not today, Kitty, not today.”

When the house comes into view, a wave of relief washes over me and then it hits me. “Oh my God. Are we at your parents’ house?”

A cocky grin pulls up one side of his mouth and he settles a big hand on my leg and squeezes. I’m sure it’s meant to be reassuring, but my body tingles and clenches at the contact that’s gone before I can even properly enjoy it.

“This is the best way I know to get you your answers.”

“Couldn’t we have just called your mom and asked her? This seems like overkill. I can’t just barge into their house and interview them.”

“Relax. The whole family is over for lunch. We do it every Sunday. “Cuantos mas seamos, mejor.” He winks. “The more, the merrier.”

Since it looks like I’m not getting out of this, I take in the beautiful Spanish-style house. Joel parks under the port cochere and kills the engine. I glance out my window and down the mountain looking over Valley. “This view is incredible.”

He nods in agreement without looking and opens his door. “Ready?”

“Anything I should know? It’s been awhile since I’ve met a guy’s parents. And not usually before we’ve had our first date.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Just don’t let Dylan saw you in half.” I give him a quizzical look. “You’ll see.”

He leads me through a house which I silently catalog with amazement like I’m on an episode of MTV Cribs.

“My mom will be in the kitchen,” he says as we walk toward the sound of voices.

It’s in this moment that I realize I should probably have checked my hair and makeup, maybe had him swing by my apartment so I could put on something besides leggings and an open back t-shirt. There’s no time for any of that now, though. I’m pulled into a room and all eyes are on me before I can even think through what it is I would have worn had I known.

There are at least ten women in the room and one by one they each notice the girl next to Joel. Unfortunately, that girl is me. The room feels too quiet and too concentrated on me for two whole seconds before Joel breaks the silence.

“Hey, Ma,” he says and walks us toward a gorgeous woman standing on the other side of a huge island in the kitchen. Joel’s mom is hot. I’ve never called someone’s mom hot, but it’s the best way to describe her. Hair the exact same color as Joel’s, she’s tall and fit just like her son but in a feminine way. Her eyes are a shade lighter, and her smile holds none of the arrogance his does.

She drops the scissors she was using to cut the stems off what looks like two dozen white roses. The rest of the room has gone back to whatever it is they were doing and ignoring me – thank God.