Chapter 125: Chapter 125: Quality Time (Part 1)
As Don and Summer drove back home, the car was filled with silce, save for the low hum of the radio playing a soft tune.
Summer, sitting in the passger seat, was furiously tapping away on her phone, her mind still replaying the evts from the fitting room incidt. The awkwardness of the situation was making her restless, but she tried to focus on her conversation with Sylvia.
**Summer: He still hasn't said anything about what happed. I can't believe it.**
**Sylvia: Lol. Isn't that what you wanted? It's a good thing.**
**Summer: Yeah, I guess. But it pisses me off that he has the audacity to act like nothing happed.**
**Sylvia: Lol. 😏 Maybe he's still thinking about how good my mouth felt. Teehee~**
**Summer: 😡 That's ev worse!**
Meanwhile, Don was lost in his own thoughts. 'Six months? How the hell am I supposed to do that in six months? Where do I ev start? Damn it.'
Evtually, they arrived home, and as Don pulled into the driveway to park, he noticed Samantha's car blocking the way up. He stopped the car and was about to honk wh Samantha emerged from the house, dressed in cozy casual pants, a brown turtleck, and crocs.
"Oh, sorry, dear. The rain was a bit harsh wh I was parking," she said apologetically. The rain had considerably lessed since the afternoon, and now, in the eving, the sky showed faint rays of light as the sun began to set.
Summer seized the opportunity to jump out of the car, quickly muttering, "Thanks for the ride, I guess," before walking off toward the house.
As she walked past Samantha, Samantha tried to ask her, "Oh hey, dear, how was scho—"
But before she could finish, Summer cut her off, saying, "It was fine, Mom. But I'm tired and have a lot of assignmts to do, so just leave some food in the fridge for me." Without waiting for a response, she walked into the house and shut the door behind her.
Samantha, looking slightly concerned, turned to Don, who was just getting out of the car. "Is something wrong?" she asked.
Don shrugged. "She was fine during shopping, but she wt quiet wh she started ing on her phone. Maybe relationship trouble?"
Samantha frowned as she approached Don's car. "Maybe, but I don't think Summer is dating anyone. To be honest, I sometimes wonder if she might like girls instead of boys. She's never brought any guys up to her room as far as I know."
'That's actually very possible,' Don thought. 'It's strange for a girl as good-looking as Summer to be single, as irritating as she is. I'll need to dig into that.'
Samantha th said, "Anyway, I'm glad you two are getting close. With your Aunt Amanda too. She mtioned she hopes you'll visit her more once she's done with some rovations on her farm."
'Rovations, huh?' Don thought, guessing that was the excuse Amanda wt with. He played it off and answered, "That sounds great. I'm looking forward to it."
Samantha th asked, "How's Shelly?"
"The mechanic says she has no problems but might need some parts replaced for safety," Don replied, carefully choosing his words to gain Samantha's support.
Samantha immediately looked concerned. "You should definitely do that, Donnie. Was the money not ough?" she asked, and Don responded, "I didn't ask, but I'll check wh I go back."
She nodded. "Make sure to find out and tell me if it's not ough. I don't want you getting into an accidt."
Don felt guinely touched by her concern, ev though part of him knew that this affection was meant for her real son. 'But her real son was a piece of work,' he thought. 'This happiness she gives was made by me. I'm going to joy it to the fullest.' He smiled at her. "No problem. Wh I do, I'll take you out for a drive."
Samantha laughed and said, "That would be nice." She th offered to move her car into the garage.
She got into her SUV and parked it in the garage, allowing Don to do the same. The garage, big ough to keep four cars, had plty of room. After parking, they both headed inside.
"Looks like it'll just be me and you for dinner unless you also plan on going to your room," Samantha said as they walked in.
"Did Aunt Amanda leave?" Don asked.
Samantha shook her head. "No, she had too much to drink and wt to sleep early," she sighed.
'This is as good an opportunity as any to spd time with Samantha,' Don thought. "I'll keep you company, th. I've got nothing better to do," he said, ev though he was already thinking of other things he could be doing. Relationships took effort and time to build, and he knew that if he didn't invest, progress would be slow.
Samantha smiled, guinely pleased. "I'd love that. Maybe we could just watch some TV, and I'll order takeout since I'm not in the mood for cooking."
Don nodded, "Sounds like a plan."
They settled into the living room, Samantha grabbing a blanket and a couple of pillows, making the space cozy. She pulled out her phone and started browsing for takeout options. Don took a seat on the couch, glancing at the television. It was already set to a local news channel, though neither of them was paying much atttion.
"What do you feel like having?" Samantha asked as she scrolled through the options.
"I'm fine with anything," Don replied, leaning back comfortably.
Samantha nodded and placed the order. As they waited, she flipped through channels, landing on a popular crime drama that seemed to catch her interest.
As Samantha selected the crime drama, she turned to Don, her eyes lighting up with interest. "Are you okay with this one, Donnie?" she asked, her tone warm and inviting. "It's called *Whispers in the Dark*. It's about a retired detective who comes back to solve a cold case that's haunted her for years.
The twist is that she starts receiving letters from the killer, taunting her with clues, but no one else believes they're real. She's also dealing with her estranged daughter, who's a rookie cop trying to prove herself. It's pretty intse but really gripping."
Don nodded, feigning interest as he took note of the plot. It was clear that Samantha had a soft spot for dramas that involved strong, complex female characters. While the premise didn't particularly grab him, he knew better than to show disinterest. "Sounds interesting," he replied smoothly. "I'm alright with watching it."
Samantha smiled, pleased with his response, and they settled in to watch. The oping credits rolled, and the dark, moody soundtrack filled the room. Don let the silce stretch for a few minutes, observing how grossed Samantha became in the show.
She leaned slightly forward, her eyes glued to the scre, a faint smile on her lips as she watched the detective navigate through her troubled past and prest challges.
After a few minutes, Don decided to break the ice further. He turned to Samantha and asked, "Should I bring us something to drink?"
Samantha, still focused on the scre, nodded abstmindedly. "Sure, that sounds nice."
Taking the opportunity to make the eving a bit more intimate, Don headed to the kitch and retrieved a bottle of wine and two glasses. 'This should help loos things up,' he thought, knowing that a bit of alcohol could make the conversation flow more easily and possibly lead to some light-hearted or ev suggestive interactions.
Returning to the living room, Don set the bottle and glasses on the coffee table. Samantha looked over, her eyebrows raising in surprise, followed by a pleased smile. "Wine? I didn't think you meant this kind of drink," she said, clearly amused.
Don smiled back, pouring them both a glass. "It seemed appropriate for the show. And since you don't have work tomorrow, why not joy ourselves?"
Samantha chuckled, taking the offered glass. "That's a good point," she agreed, settling back into the sofa.
As they sipped their wine, Samantha began to relax ev more. She shifted her position, tucking her legs up on the sofa and leaning slightly against Don's side. He could feel the warmth of her body against his, and he casually draped his arm along the back of the sofa, letting his fingers brush against her shoulder.
Samantha sighed conttedly, taking another sip of wine. "I can't believe you're already old ough to drink with me," she said with a laugh, glancing up at him. "I feel so old."
'Think fast,' Don thought, and quickly responded, "You're not old, just mature—like Detective Marshall in the show."
Samantha laughed, the sound light. "Oh, stop. You're just teasing me," she said, playfully nudging his side. "I'm just an old, boring mom now, while she's a sexy detective."
"You could be," Don replied smoothly, earning another laugh from Samantha.
As the show continued, Don shifted his tactics. He knew that outright flirting wouldn't get him far tonight, so instead, he focused on making her laugh and gradually increasing the physical contact.
His hand moved from the back of the sofa to her shoulder, gtly rubbing it, th occasionally sliding down to rest at her waist. Samantha didn't seem to mind, ev leaning into his touch at times, her body language becoming more relaxed with each passing minute.
The sces on the TV played out, filled with dramatic twists and turns, but Don was more focused on the subtle signals Samantha was giving off. The way she sighed and settled more comfortably against him, the way her laughter lingered a little longer than usual—these were all good signs.
As they continued to watch, Samantha's legs shifted, brushing against Don's. She didn't pull away, instead, she seemed to nestle closer, her head almost resting on his shoulder. Don continued to rub her shoulder gtly, using the movemt to draw her further into his space. He could feel her relaxing more and more.
At one particularly tse momt in the show, Samantha gasped and instinctively grabbed Don's arm, holding onto him as the suspse played out on scre. Don took advantage of the momt, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, which she returned with a small, appreciative smile.
'This is progress,' Don thought, pleased with how the eving was going. 'She's getting used to being close to me, and that's exactly what I need.' He decided not to push any further tonight, contt with the subtle gwork he was laying. After all, he had time, and patice was key in building the kind of rapport he wanted with Samantha.
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