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Another car draws up and stops at enough of a distance that they give us our privacy. At the same time, it’s clear they’re keeping us in their sights.
"Friends of yours?" I nod in their direction.
"Security. They won’t intrude."
"Do we need security?"
"I do, and now that you’re marrying me, you do, too."
"Oh." I blink. Not sure how I feel about having someone on my heels twenty-four-seven, but I’ll have to think through that one later. Right now, I need to get this meeting with my family over with.
I square my shoulders and step onto the sidewalk with Liam in tow. I walk up the short garden path I traversed so many times when I was younger. Before I can rap on the door, it’s pulled open. My mother stands there, clad in a flowing kaftan with a big smile on her face.
"You’re here!" She throws her arms around my shoulders and hugs me. "I’m so happy to see you, Isla."
"Me too," I mumble, then disentangle myself from my mother’s embrace and step back.
"Mom, this is my-uh, fiancé, Liam Kincaid. Liam, this is—"
"Nadine." My ma eschews his proffered hand and throws her arms around him. "Welcome; Isla has told me so much about you."
"She has?" Liam turns to me with a question in his eyes. I shake my head.
"She said she had a surprise and was bringing someone home to meet me. Of course, I knew who it was right away."
"You did?" I clear my throat.
"Of course, I did." She keeps a hold on Liam, then grabs my arm and pulls me along. "Come in, come in. I can’t wait for the entire family to meet you."
"Ma," I half yell, "I told you not to invite anyone else. This meeting was supposed to be private—just for the immediate family."
"And they aremyimmediate family. Since you chose to leave me and go off to London, first to study, and then to work. And, I probably won’t see you for another year."
"That’s where you’re wrong." I lower my chin to my chest. This is it, my worst nightmare. The reason I prefer to stay far away from them. My extended family means well, but by god, having them all up in my business has driven me to madness so many times in the past.
There’s a loud barking, then the skitter of claws on the wooden floor, and a Great Dane leaps down from the landing and jumps toward us.
"Liam, watch out—"
The dog reaches Liam in one bound, then butts his thigh.
Liam doesn’t blink. The tendons of his neck bunch, but he stays calm.
"Tiny, come back here, boy. I’m so sorry; he escaped me." My brother Dorian pants as he races down the stairs toward us. “As soon as he heard your voices, he knew someone new had arrived, and he got excited."
"He’s harmless," I whisper.
"Your Great Dane is called Tiny?" Liam asks without taking his gaze off of the dog.
“What else would you call him?” I retort.
He doesn’t flinch as Tiny looks up at him and rests his weight against his leg. The two seem engaged in some kind of stand-off. Tiny is, easily, three-and-a-half feet tall when he’s standing on all fours. On his hind legs, he stretches to well over six-feet high. Not to mention, he weighs 115 pounds. For someone not used to his dimensions, he can come across as daunting, but you wouldn’t know it the way Liam narrows his gaze on the dog. Of course, it helps that Liam is six feet four inches tall—and yes, I know his height. I had to, given I was organizing his wedding. And yes, that’s the only reason I made it a point to find out.
Liam lifts his hand and lets Tiny sniff his palm. Tiny bares his teeth.
My heart somersaults into my throat. "Oh, no." I take a step forward, when Tiny rolls out his tongue and licks Liam’s palm.
"Tiny, stop that." Dorian grabs Tiny’s collar and slips on the leash.
