Foreman returned Amber's smile before he'd even considered what it would look like to any of her family members who might be watching. Pulling himself back to seriousness, he glanced around, but the only person who might have noticed was Chris, and he was gracious enough to act like he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary. Amber didn't take his glass from him--maybe sharing a drink would've been too intimate? Foreman still had no real idea of what counted as discreet, among her family, although he more or less assumed that public displays of affection beyond sitting next to each other, holding hands, or the occasional peck, would be considered over the top. He grinned when Amber stood up and imperiously summoned him out of the room. The invitation was for everyone else's benefit. Kate looked up, but was quickly drawn back into an argument with Jude over how much time kids should spend with their mothers and whether it was fair to tie a woman to the home for as long as she was fertile, just in case.
Yeah, Foreman was ready to escape. He followed Amber's footsteps, exchanged a nod with Chris, and determinedly ignored the embarrassment of 'going for a drink' when his current glass wasn't even half-empty. He found his way to the kitchen, where dinner looked to be nearly ready, and there were signs of the involved preparations for tomorrow's Thanksgiving dinner. Setting his glass on the first counter he found, he grinned at Amber. He was feeling proud and a bit smug that no one had tried to cut his legs out from under him. Amber had painted a picture that sounded like setting foot in her parents' home would be equivalent to willingly crossing a piranha-infested river. Had she been trying to scare him off simply because she didn't want to come? She'd rescinded her invitation quickly enough, insisting it was because he hadn't jumped for joy at the opportunity. But then why mention it in the first place? Foreman had a feeling he'd only get himself in trouble if he brought that up, and he wasn't going to waste a few minutes with Amber arguing about whether she'd misrepresented her family to him. Geoffrey was an ass, anyway. The rest of them seemed nice, if entirely suburban. "I think it's going well," he said, moving across the room to join her, although not starting anything he didn't want to finish in front of Madeleine--or Kate, for that matter.
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Yeah, Foreman was ready to escape. He followed Amber's footsteps, exchanged a nod with Chris, and determinedly ignored the embarrassment of 'going for a drink' when his current glass wasn't even half-empty. He found his way to the kitchen, where dinner looked to be nearly ready, and there were signs of the involved preparations for tomorrow's Thanksgiving dinner. Setting his glass on the first counter he found, he grinned at Amber. He was feeling proud and a bit smug that no one had tried to cut his legs out from under him. Amber had painted a picture that sounded like setting foot in her parents' home would be equivalent to willingly crossing a piranha-infested river. Had she been trying to scare him off simply because she didn't want to come? She'd rescinded her invitation quickly enough, insisting it was because he hadn't jumped for joy at the opportunity. But then why mention it in the first place? Foreman had a feeling he'd only get himself in trouble if he brought that up, and he wasn't going to waste a few minutes with Amber arguing about whether she'd misrepresented her family to him. Geoffrey was an ass, anyway. The rest of them seemed nice, if entirely suburban. "I think it's going well," he said, moving across the room to join her, although not starting anything he didn't want to finish in front of Madeleine--or Kate, for that matter.