GUNNER
Diana looks at me for a long moment, as if trying to decide what she’s going to do or say. I take a drink from my scotch and offer it to her. “Need a morning jump start.”
“You have … interesting mornings here.” She glances back into the kitchen.
I follow her gaze and see that Sophie is conveniently gone. Roman looks unbothered, just eating pancakes like any civilized person would. I take another drink. “Sophie’s cooking is just amazing. Did you teach her?”
“No. she likes the cooking channel. I thought she was going to be a chef when growing up.” Diana’s eyes flick back to me with all the threat of a jungle cat. “And now I’m wondering exactly what her position entails.”
“Diana.”
“So maybe you can explain to me exactly what the fuck you’re doing with my daughter?” The honey-sweet tone of voice doesn’t hide the venom underneath.
“That might be a conversation that involves Sophie, who, um … just happens to be missing.” I try my best to avoid the conversation all together.
Sophie doesn’t need more stress at the moment, and honestly, I’m not about to explain to Diana that I love her daughter and will happily show her that in whatever way I can all day, every day. Especially not when I haven’t told Sophie yet.
“Oh, I think you are perfectly capable of telling me what I saw in the kitchen.”
“Or you could tell me what you think you saw.”
“Are you gaslighting me?”
“Never.”
“Then spit it out.”
“You could ask Miles.”
She blinks at me a few times, shakes her head, and barrels into the kitchen to take on Roman. Roman nods to us as he rinses his plate before putting it in the dishwasher. Sophie comes up behind him a moment later, as if it’s possible that her mother didn’t see her five minutes ago, happily sandwiched between the two of us.
“Sophie?”
“Morning, Mom. Would you like some pancakes?” Sophie offers, smile still in full affect.
“No, I’d like to know what’s going on here while your father is away. I thought I heard some things last night, but I was sure that was just my frayed nerves … now, I think the moans and whispers were exactly what I thought they were.” She crosses her arms over her chest and stares down at Sophie. “Care to enlighten me?”
“I would love to help explain, but we have to start our day and-”
“Don’t make me pull out the middle name and mom tone.” Diana threatens.
Roman wraps an arm around Sophie, pulling her towards him, and I stand at her other side, determined to make sure she feels safe. She’s not alone in this, and she shouldn’t be the only one forced to own up to what’s going on.
I rub her shoulder softly. There’s not a single joke on my tongue that will help defuse the situation; there’s only the concern I have for Sophie and our current, fragile feeling situation. I clear my throat. “Diana.”
“You should probably call me Miss Lane.”
“That doesn’t change what I’m about to say.”
“No, but I might be less pissed when you say it.
“Miss Lane, we’re dating your daughter,” I say evenly.
She laughs. Once, twice, a third time, then she shakes her head. “Very funny. Saying “we” like you both are. That’s a good laugh, Gunner. I was prepared to kick your ass.”
Roman and I exchange a look, and Sophie huffs. “I am, Mom. I’m dating all four of them.”
“That’s not a thing.”