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Stormy smiled at my father. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Landry.”
“None of that now. You can call me Pops, like the other kids.”
Pops went back to cooking, putting my sister to work to keep her out of Stormy’s hair.
“Let me show you the house,” I said, leading her out of the kitchen while my brothers tramped in with Stormy’s baked goods in hand.
“I should have warned you we were meeting my family. But I didn’t want you to worry about it all week.”
A blush spread across her cheeks.
“I would have, too.”
“You look good enough to eat. It’s going to take every ounce of willpower I have not to drag you off and fuck you until neither of us can walk.”
“I should be mad at you for not telling me I’m meeting your family. Lucky for you, I’m in love with this house.”
“Only the house?” I asked softly.
“For now,” she whispered as our lips met.
Stormy
GAMBIT KISSED ME UNTILmy knees buckled and he had to hold me up. He dragged me into the hall bathroom, kissing me senseless until a loud knock interrupted us.
“Food’s ready.”
“That was your dad, right?” I asked in a strangled voice.
“Yes.”
“I’m mortified. Do you think he thinks we were in here fucking?”
Gambit through his head back and laugh. His own deep voice rumbled from his chest. The laugh filled the small room.
“He won’t judge you, no matter what we did or didn’t do. Okay?”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. Now, let’s go eat before my brothers and Pop’s best friend eat everything.”
We walked hand in hand while Gambit led us to the dining room. I stopped as we entered to look at the room. If Gambit cared, he didn’t say anything. He held my hand and let me gawk. The ceiling soared over my head. It was at least twenty feet in height. Two large fans hung from the ceiling by large bronze poles. They circulated the air lazily. One wall was a bank of large airy windows, while a picture window took up two-thirds of another wall. The lake view was nothing short of spectacular.
An enormous table sat in the middle of the table with enough chairs to comfortably sit a dozen Gambit-sized men. It was laden with food. The smells made my stomach rumble. Gambit pulled me forward gently, leading me to two empty chairs. He pulled out the one by his father’s right hand, helping me in it, before taking the seat next to me. Nola sat across from me and next to her was a man who looked like Rick Fox’s double circa fifteen years ago.
I might have done a quadruple take. Fuck! I need to get better at looking at people on the sly. I blame my writer’s brain. If something or someone catches my eye, I wind up staring at them. I don’t mean to. Honest.
“Stormy, would you like to say the blessing today?” Armand’s deep rumble broke me out of the spell.
My face, fifty shades of red, I nodded my head, needing a few extra seconds to gather my thoughts. While I’m a practicing Wiccan, I grew up in a Christian household and still have many beliefs based on my upbringing. Saying Grace at the table is, thankfully, second nature.
“Thank you, Father, for all gathered here today, and for blessing me with family. May you bless this food and our fellowship. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
I suddenly found both hands being held and gently squeezed as a large tear rolled slowly down my right cheek. My throat felt tight. I’d need a few minutes before I could talk. Armand held my left hand.
“Now, I know why you brought her home, son.”
“You’re the first girl Beau's ever brought to brunch,” Nola added.
