* * *
It was close to eleven when we pulled up in front of my parents’ house. My stomach was full of knots, but I was relieved to see there weren’t five hundred cars in the circular driveway. At least we wouldn’t have to deal with all my uncles and their wives and their herd of children.
I stared up at the double doors, excited to see my family, but also anxious. They could be . . . overwhelming at times.
Brock killed the engine, and a second later I felt his fingers curling around my chin. He guided my gaze to his. Leaning into me, he closed the distance and kissed me softly. It was a tender and sweet kiss, one that held infinite patience.
“You ready to head in there?”
Realizing he sensed the hesitation, I drew back and stared at him. I wanted to thank him. I wanted to kiss him again.
Rhage meowed pitifully from the back seat.
Laughing, I sat back and unbuckled my seatbelt. “I know who’s ready.”
We climbed out, and before I could grab the carrier, Brock already had it in his hand. Rhage was probably loving that. We’d walked up the driveway, leaving our bags to grab later.
The door opened before we reached it and out came my mom, a flurry of long brown hair and big eyes. One second I was standing on the porch, arm raised, and next Mom was wrapping her arms around me, squeezing the living daylights out of me.
“Mom,” I gasped, hugging her back. “I can barely breathe.”
“Deal with it.” She hugged me tighter.
I coughed out a laugh and then she pulled back, smoothing a hand over my hair, pushing it back from my face. Her eyes were watery as she smiled, then her gaze moved to Brock, and I winced in sympathy as she enveloped him in an equally suffocating hug. Somehow, he managed to hold onto Rhage’s carrier. Brock laughed at her exuberance and returned the hug with one arm.
“Hon, let them get in the house.” Dad’s voice rang out from inside the house. “They’ve been in the car for hours.”
“Hush it.” Mom let go of Brock and then looped her arm through mine as we started inside. “You’d think by now he’d expect how easily excited I am.”
“You’d think,” I argued dryly.
Mom laughed.
Warm air greeted us as we stepped in the foyer, and I saw Dad striding across the scuffed hardwood floors. His hair was more salt than pepper since the last time I’d seen him and the lines around his eyes had increased, but the man was still fit as a fiddle.
“Hey, Dad.” Slipping free of Mom, I met him halfway.
Dad’s hug was just as intense, but it didn’t feel like I’d have cracked ribs afterward, so that was great. “Have any trouble driving up here?”
“No.” I stepped back.
“There was a little traffic when we got close,” Brock told him, placing the carrier on the floor. “But nothing too bad.”
Mom stared down at Rhage. “You just had to bring Satan with you, didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t leave him at home.”
“He’s staying in your room,” she warned.
“Of course.”
“Am I seriously the only person this cat likes?” Brock asked as he dipped down, bravely sticking his finger through the holes.
Mom’s shrewd gaze bounced between us, and I was sure she was wondering exactly how often Brock was around the cat. “Yes,” I answered. “You are pretty much the only person.”
Dad kept his arm around my shoulders as he eyed Brock. “It’s good, real good to see you two together again.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Brock replied as he looked up, his gaze straying to mine. “Because Jillian and I are together.”
Chapter 26
Well, at least now I knew where Brock and I stood; however I’d wished he hadn’t quite dropped the bomb like that. I would’ve liked it to be in private, so I could’ve done a happy dance. And I wish it hadn’t been in front of my parents, because things got a little weird after that.
Dad appeared smug and patted Brock’s back like being with me was equal to him winning a tough match. Then Dad crossed his arms and nodded sagely as if he had always known this was how it would turn out.
And Mom . . . Good Lord, Mom looked about ready to cry, and not just a few tears. Oh no, she looked like she was about to sob like somehow Brock had discovered the fountain of youth and was about to give her directions on the location.
Truth was though, I was . . . I was pleased they were happy, and they really were. I had to look away, focus on the new painting in the foyer of a sandy golden beach and sky at dusk, vibrantly catching the blue and pink hues, so no one saw how shiny my eyes were getting.
Especially when Brock draped his arm over my shoulders and pulled into my side while Mom continued to gush on about how happy she was. It was a big deal to her. We were here for Thanksgiving, and tomorrow would be the first true family dinner in a long time.
And it . . . it really would.
Brock leaned in and whispered in my left ear. “You okay?”
I nodded and then looked down at the cat carrier. Rhage was hissing and carrying on in his carrier while my Mom stared all googly-eyed at Brock, probably already planning the wedding invitations while baby booties danced in her head.
Rhage withdrew from my finger and I sighed. “I’m going to take Rhage upstairs. He’s getting—”
The front door swung open and a swarm of small people rushed in, a literal sea of tiny humans. I blinked, losing count once I saw the sixth dark-haired child, and I knew it was Uncle Julio, because he could seriously fill out an entire baseball roster with his own children.