I almost laugh at that, but that wouldn’t do Kinsley any good. “I guess not,” I say. “What’s impressive is Kinsley’s skills in the kitchen.”
“Yes, she makes a great taco. So we’ve heard,” her mom says, a hint of disgust attached to her words.
My jaw drops. “Are you saying you’ve never tasted them, never eaten at her truck?”
“We don’t eat at trucks, dear,” Lilith says.
“You’re definitely missing out.”
“It’s okay,” Kinsley says quietly. “They don’t like street food.”
“Maybe not, but I bet they’ll love your new restaurant food. The place is going to be cozy, inviting, and have sit down tables with service.” Kinsley’s body goes so tight, I’m worried she’s going to snap something. What the hell?
“What’s this about a new restaurant?” her father asks, and my heart drops. Shit, was I not supposed to mention that? Fuck me. Here I go saying the wrong things again.
“It’s something I want to do in the future, Dad,” she says, and reaches for her water glass. Her diamond sparkles in the overhead light.
Her mother lifts her chin to see it. “That’s the ring?”
“It is. Isn’t it beautiful,” Kinsley says as she examines it.
“Lovely, dear. Perfect for a Vegas wedding. I suppose Elvis was there?” She gives a humorless laugh. “Your grandmother would have loved that.”
Wow, shitty fucking parents.
“It was a last minute thing, Mom. A spur of the moment decision.”
Lilith gives a glare of disapproval. “Yes, you’re very good at those.”
I put my arm around Kinsley. “I couldn’t wait one more second to make her my bride.”
“Why, is she pregnant?” her father asks, and my temper flares. Is he fucking serious? The disrespect they have for Kinsley makes me want to pummel something. What the fuck is wrong with them?
“No, I’m not pregnant.”
“Thank God for that,” her father bursts out.
“Don’t you want grandkids?” I ask.
The server comes back and we all give our drink order. When we’re alone again, her mother says, “Kinsley’s made enough mistakes.”
I take a deep breath, and hold it for a second, hoping it will extinguish the fire brewing in my belly. How the hell can they be so rude to their daughter? I shift a litt
le closer to her, and present a united front.
“Not in my eyes. I think Kinsley is living her dream life.”
She smiles up at me, and my heart pinches tight. “It’s important to follow your passion, don’t you think?” I ask her parents.
Instead of answering, her mother says, “We’ll have a proper reception in our garden. I’ll make the arrangements.” She looks at me. “Your parents will come, I assume.”
I shift, a bit uncomfortable. “Well, they’ll probably be away,” I say. “They vacation in the Med this time of year.”
She stares at me for a second, like she’s not sure whether she believes me or not, then says, “Siblings and friends?”
I nod. “I have a sister and Kinsley and I have many friends.”
“Fine, I’ll get the invitations made up and you see to it that they land in the hands of those you’d like to attend.”