The Checklist by Addie Woolridge (color ebook reader TXT) 📗

her dad had even made an attempt at dusting. Dylan was so grateful for his effort that she hadn’t even told her father that she’d gone back over his dusting job after he’d left the house. If she didn’t know any better, she would say the Delacroix were excited to meet her “ghost” boyfriend. She just couldn’t decide if their excitement was a good thing or a whole kettle of mess waiting to boil over.

Inching closer, Dylan spotted Nicolas yammering into his phone. She flailed at him through the windshield until Nicolas gave her a brief smile and a wave. After pulling up to the curb, Dylan hopped out of the car, risking the drizzle to open the trunk and greet him.

“Well, Mark, you and I both know how this ends. Hi, babe,” Nicolas said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and handing her his luggage.

“Hi,” Dylan said to his shoulder as he jumped into the passenger side, covering his head with the in-flight magazine. She wished she’d borrowed the magazine to cover her own hair as she dragged his luggage to the back of the car, shutting the hatch, and then darting around to the driver’s side.

“All right, Mark. Gotta go; my girl picked me up . . . yup. Talk Monday,” Nicolas said, then hit the end-call button and reached over to turn up the heat in the car.

“I also have seat warmers, right here in the center,” Dylan said, looking over her shoulder and feeling a fresh blast of hot air hit her. The airport was not made for so many people, and the Seattle drivers were so busy out-nicing each other that it was nearly impossible for her to figure out when people were letting her go and when they were doing the required no-you-go dance.

“How was your flight?”

“Turns out Kaplan’s companion ticket only covers business class.”

“I’m surprised they gave you business class. Half the time consultants don’t even get that,” she said, waving as another car stopped to let her over, essentially halting traffic for no reason other than being polite.

“I’d revolt,” Nicolas said, clucking his tongue.

“Luckily it’s not a long flight. And the magazines in business class weren’t so bad,” Dylan said, grinning at the road and waiting for him to laugh at the joke. The car stayed silent, and she cleared her throat, trying again. “I’m so excited you’re here. My parents can’t wait to meet you. Dad even made an attempt at using cleaning supplies.”

“It should be good. And even if it isn’t, it’s a short trip.”

The blue glow of his cell phone highlighted the harder edges of his face as Dylan attempted one of her father’s calming yoga breathing techniques. Gripping the steering wheel, she faced forward and addressed the elephant in the SUV.

“Nicolas, I know their lifestyle can be unorthodox, but this is important to me.”

“I know, babe,” Nicolas sighed, pocketing the phone and leaning across the console to kiss her cheek again. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure your family is less unusual than you say. Besides, parents always love me. I even googled your mom’s and dad’s work. I’m ready for this.”

“Thank you. That is all I needed to hear,” Dylan said, relaxing her grip on the steering wheel.

“Where are we staying?”

Dylan had decided it was best to introduce Nicolas to the family in doses, until she could be sure the transition was smooth. Besides, there was no way both of them would fit in her childhood bed, especially with Milo constantly trying to crawl in.

“Just down the road from my parents’ house. Near the university. The place is supposed to be cute, and I figured you might be hungry. There is a Seattle staple nearby that you have to try. It’s a burger place everyone—”

Dylan’s breath caught, and she sighed, interrupting her own thought. The drive into the city from the airport was one of the most gorgeous views from any airport ever. Even on the wettest days, the picture-postcard skyline, complete with cranes and the Space Needle, seemed to reach out of the water, its lights twinkling like rare gems. It was always stunning. No matter what, she always felt like she was home the moment she saw it. “I love this view.”

“It’s nice,” Nicolas said, flicking a glance out the window, the blue glow of his phone back in full force.

Dylan decided to enjoy the low hum of the radio until they reached the hotel; that way Nicolas wouldn’t have to split his attention. After a few minutes and several more no-you-go turns, she parked at the hotel and bounced around to the trunk. As she finished heaving the suitcases out of the back, Nicolas appeared around the bumper, giving his phone one final tap and pocketing it again.

“Well, this looks decent,” he said, grabbing the handle of his roller bag and moving toward the front door. “I looked up the burger place you said was good, and everyone on the internet agrees. I think we should try it.”

Dylan sat on her hands so she couldn’t fidget. In a totally uncharacteristic move, she had forgotten her wrap, flat iron, and round brush at her parents’ house, meaning that she was sporting her curls for the first time in roughly ten years. She didn’t mind the curls, but she wasn’t crazy about the level of unexpectedness that came with them. Today was not the kind of day for surprises, even harmless strange-hair-day ones.

Dylan tugged at a lock of her hair, catching Nicolas’s eye before she looked down at her watch. Of course, her family was late.

“I see why you straighten your hair,” Nicolas said, stirring three raw sugars into his coffee.

Dylan wondered what the hell that was supposed to mean, but before she could formulate a full response, the diner bell jingled, and her mother’s voice filled every available crack in the room. “I don’t know why they hate firecrackers. And if the Robinsons are going to paint the house—Dylan!”

Henry began frantically waving