I feel like a teenager, taking his girlfriend home to meet his parents. It’s stupid really, because I truly don’t care if they don’t approve of Jolie.
It won’t change a thing.
But I know it’s important to her, so it’s important to me. We’ve not long arrived, and I can see Jolie taking in the land that comes with the converted barn my parents live in, and she inhales deeply.
“Jax!” Booms a voice, and my father appears from the side of the house, wearing his fucking gardening gear of all things. I cast an eye at his muddy gloves, which he peels off, extending his hand to me formally before turning to Jolie. “Hi there, you must be the woman that’s carrying my new grandchild.”
I narrow my eyes at him as Jolie arches a brow, glancing at me with annoyance. “This is Jolie, dad. Be polite.”
“Huh. Nice to meet you. Let’s go and find your mum, lad.”
“Sorry,” I whisper, wrapping my arm around Jolie’s shoulders as she looks up at me, sighing.
I’d warned her about my dad, and she’d told me she wasn’t easily fazed.
Let’s hope that’s true.
Her fringe falls into her eyes, her fingers swiftly moving it to one side. She looks super fucking hot today, and all I can think about it what I’m going to do to her later. I’m gonna request she leaves those thigh high boots she’s rocking on too.
Stepping into the hallway were greeted by the delicious scent of home baking, and my stomach mumbles in response.
“That smells so good!” Jolie gushes, leaning down to remove her boots.
My mum pops her head around the kitchen door, her cheeks rosy from the heat no doubt. “Hi! Sorry, I’ll be one minute, I’m timing these scones to perfection!”
Her eyes fall to my dad as she rolls her eyes, tutting. “Christ, Roger, get some decent attire on.”
“I’m fine in this,” he argues, kicking his muddy boots onto the doormat beside me. “I don’t think Jax or his new sweetheart give a crap about what I’m wearing.”
I lead Jolie into the kitchen, not wanting to follow my dad into the lounge. If he gets my back up, I’ll end up losing my shit, and no one wants to see that.
“Mum, this is Jolie. Jolie, this is my mum,” I say proudly, as my mum turns to look at Jolie, gasping with recognition.
“Oh my word, you’re the girl from the car boot! You bought Immies dolls and gave them back to her!” She exclaims, her eyes wide with disbelief. Her hair bounces around her face as she shakes her head. “My, it’s a small world!”
Jolie smiles, revealing her perfect white teeth. I’m aware I’m gazing at her, but she seems oblivious, already in conversation with my mum.
“I’ll just leave you two a minute,” I say, rubbing Jolie’s back, her eyes catching mine as she nods reassuringly.
My mum is the sort of woman everyone gets along with, whereas my dad is the polar opposite. God only knows what she sees in him.
I walk into the front room to see Dad in his usual spot, by the window. He’s leaning forward, elbows on knees as he watches the horse race on the television.
“Go on, my son!” He mutters at the screen, ignoring my presence entirely.
My voice echoes around the room, and he glances over at me with disinterest.
“So you got another girl knocked up. What’s this one, another lesbian or a gold digger? Lord knows you don’t attract much else. All you go for is tits and teeth. Don’t you know how to put a Johnny on?”
Here we go.
“Dad, quit your bullshit for the duration of our stay, would ya? Jolie is different, and you better not disrespect her,” I warn, my voice filling with anger.
“Disrespect her? Hell, I have nothing but respect for her. Got herself pregnant by the most influential man in town, Jax Cohen, ex biker and businessman. She’ll never have to work a day in her life,” Dad scoffs, his eyes glued to the television.
“She’s not like that,” I snap, considering hurling my dad headfirst into the television. “Watch what you say.”
“Watch what you say in my house, King Dick,” Dad turns to me with a glare. “You’re just little Jax here, so behave accordingly.”
I’m about to respond when the girls join us, Jolie lacing her warm fingers with mine, her very presence calming my furious heartbeat. As though she senses the animosity in the room, she sits beside me, addressing my father directly.
“I’m not after your son's money, Mr Cohen.”
My mum gasps, rushing to my fathers defence.
“Oh no, dear, he doesn’t mean that! He just worries about some women, you know, you read about them in the news, don’t you? Marrying anyone to get the fortune—”
“So how long have you known my son?” Challenges my dad, his eyes meeting Jolie’s as she tilts her head to the side.
“Well I’m approximately seventeen weeks pregnant, so yeah, about that.”
A silence falls in the room, my mum opening her mouth and closing it before she stands up. “I’ll go and get the tea.”
“Ah, you seduced him?” Dad crows gleefully, slapping his leg before wagging his finger at me. “She’s a sassy one, her.”
“I had no idea who your son was,” Jolie shrugs, a confidence in her tone I’d not heard before. “I had zero intention of seeing him again. If anything, Mr Cohen, it was your son who pursued me.”
I can’t hide my smile now, loving that my girl stood up for herself against my annoyingly cuntish father, and held her own. He blinked, before nodding.
“Would you like my resume?” Jolie continues, widening her eyes as my mum walks back in with a tray of scones, cakes and small sandwiches cut into triangles. She disappears before returning with the four China mugs of tea, smiling at me nervously.
“Oh, you work?” My dad grins back, as Jolie slaps her thigh, winking at my dad.
“Yes. I cook and clean too.”
“Good,” my dad murmurs, but his shoulders deflate under Jolie’s steely gaze.
“Ignore my husband, he can be a bit of a twat,” my mum says, shooting my dad a glare.
“Wow, thanks, love.”
“I have my own business, reselling. I own my own home, and my own car. Anything else you’d like to know, Mr Cohen?”
For once in his life, my dad looks stumped. I want to laugh out loud, but I simply lean forward, extending the tray of food to Jolie, who takes a scone.
“That’s good, I’m pleased to hear you have your head screwed on. I don’t suppose you’re into women too, are you?”
“Dad, you’re a dick,” I snap, as my mum closes her eyes in mortification.
“Shut up, right now, or I’ll divorce you. I swear,” she hisses, as he sinks back into his seat dejectedly. “I’m sorry, Jolie, my husband doesn’t have a filter, or any sense at times. You’re looking so well, how are you feeling?”
Jolie relaxes more as the conversation continues, until my mum insists on bringing her knitting bag out.
“I know you might not know yet, you know, whether it’s a boy or girl, so I went for neutral. It’s not finished yet, but…” she pauses, rummaging around in her bag before tugging out a thick cream blanket, attached to two knitting needles. “I’m hoping to make it big enough to swaddle the baby in if you want to.”
“That’s beautiful,” Jolie says softly, her fingers reaching out to touch the hem of the blanket. “That’s so soft!”
“It’s called Baby Snuggle, the yarn I used,” mum beams proudly. “It’s microfibre, so it feels like a big warm hug.”
“Thankyou,” Jolie murmurs, her eyes filling up.
“I want the baby to be spoiled rotten, just like Immie, if you’ll let me,” mum gushes, her hand resting on my fathers knee. He nods faintly, now surprisingly quiet.
“Of course,” Jolie exclaims, nodding her head. “You’re the grandmother.”
“Oh, darling, you make me sound ancient,” mum waves her hand at Jolie, laughing. “Immie calls me Mama, but your baby can call me whatever it wants to.”
“She,” I say, as my mum sits up straight, her mouth falling open slightly.
“It’s a girl?!” She gasps, closing her eyes with delight. “Oh, I can’t wait!”
“Have you thought of any names?” My dad asks, clearing his throat.
“We’ve talked about it but we can’t agree,” I say, noticing Jolie nodding her head beside me.
“You chose well with Imogen. Suits her so much,” mum smiles, putting the blanket carefully back into her bag.
“Your name is nice,” dad says, nodding at Jolie. “Where did your parents get that idea?”
Jolie doesn’t answer at first, but then she sighs.
“I don’t know, if I’m honest. Parenting wasn’t my mothers strong suit.”
“What about your father?” Asks mum, as I groan.
“Why is this like a fucking job interview?!” I finally snap, glaring at my dad who presses his lips into a thin line. “I love this girl, and her fucking lineage doesn’t matter a bit to me.”
“Calm down, Jax,” my dad sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I’ll calm down when you stop this charade. You’re embarrassing me.”
“Huh,” my dad says, folding his arms. “I’m sorry Jolie, I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“It takes a lot to offend me, but thank you,” Jolie says graciously, as she bites into the scone. “This is so good, did you really make these yourself?”
The conversation continues, and I lean back, watching as my parents, yes, even my dad, the twat, fall in love with Jolie.
She is impossible to dislike, and she’s just proved it.
I love her even more right now.