Just then, her father opened the front door and said, “Pumpkin, you’re here.” He drew her in for a long hug, as though it had been far longer than one week since she’d seen him at the wedding. By the time Mia squeaked, “Daddy,” her mother was wrapping her into a hug, too. As always, she was comforted by the familiar smell of the lemon-scented shampoo her mother had used for as long as she could remember. Mia had always thought of herself as an independent woman, but the truth was that when she went more than a handful of weeks without seeing her parents and brothers, she started to feel a little lost.
“I’d like to introduce you to my friend Ford.” Upon hearing the word friend, Ford squeezed her hand. “Actually,” she said, needing them to know, “he’s my friend and my boyfriend.”
She almost felt like a teenager again. Somehow, despite everything she and Ford had done already in bed years ago, all their long kisses goodnight this week had given a surprising innocence to their current relationship.
Ford shook her mother’s and father’s hands. “It’s great to finally meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan. You raised an amazing daughter.”
Just as she’d expected, Mia could see that her father was going to take a while to make up his mind about the rock star who was trying to claim his daughter’s heart, but her mother was immediately charmed. “It’s lovely to meet you, too, Ford. And Mia is the best daughter I could ever have hoped for.”
“Right back at you, Mom.”
Her mother went to put the flowers in a vase and her father was heading into the kitchen to grab a beer out of the fridge when her brother Adam walked in the front door.
“Hey, Mia.” He kissed her on the top of her head, but he was looking out the front window to the curb. “Looks like some high roller moved into the neighborhood with his fancy c—”
He cut the word short when he finally realized Ford was standing beside her. Mia nearly giggled at the look of utter surprise as her brother came unexpectedly face to face with his musical hero in his parents’ house...especially when he looked down and saw that Mia was holding Ford’s hand.
“Adam,” Mia said, “I don’t believe you met Ford at Marcus and Nicola’s wedding. Ford, this is my second oldest brother.”
“It’s great to finally meet you,” Ford said in an easy voice.
But instead of reaching out to shake Ford’s hand, Mia could see the wheels in her brother’s head turning as he looked between them, once, then twice. “You two met at the wedding last weekend?”
“Nope,” Mia said with a cheerful smile as she slid her arm around Ford and leaned into him. “We met five years ago. You know the story, young foolish love and all that. But we didn’t see each other again until a couple of days before the wedding, when Ford hired me to find him a house in Seattle.”
Given how freaked out she’d been by being with Ford at the wedding, introducing him to her family a week later was surprisingly fun. It was amazing what a difference a week could make.
Then again, wasn’t a week with Ford all it had taken to change everything inside her heart five years ago, too?
“Five years ago? Young love?” Poor Adam looked like he was going to pop a vein. “What the hell, Mia? We’ve heard his songs on the radio a thousand times and you never once mentioned that you knew him.”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t. But the past doesn’t matter,” Mia told her brother. And she meant it. “All you need to know is that we’re together now.”
Given the heated—and borderline deadly—glare Adam gave Ford at that point, Mia realized that her brother had completely put aside his appreciation of Ford’s music in favor of protecting her.
Right then, the side door into the kitchen slammed, and she knew Dylan had arrived. He skidded to a halt in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room when he saw Ford standing there. Looking like he’d just come off the water, Dylan looked back and forth between Mia and Ford with a frown that deepened more with every pass.
“Ford, this is my brother Dylan. Dylan, this is my—”
“Boyfriend,” Adam growled from behind her.
Her big, tough sailor brother looked like he was going to swallow his tongue. “He is your boyfriend?”
“Wow,” she said with a laugh, “glad to know you think I’m such a prize.”
“Jesus, Mia, that’s not it. You’re great. But he’s—”
“A goddamned rock star,” Adam filled in again.
“If either of you want to take a few swings at me to get them out of your system,” Ford offered, “I’m game.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she told Ford before turning her glare on her brothers. “I’m sure my overprotective brothers can find it in themselves to trust their sister to have some taste—and to wait to bring home a man until she found one that was worth it. Right, boys?”
Dylan folded first. “I gotta get a beer.” But before he could escape, her father came in with enough cold bottles for everyone.
As Adam downed his first one in a long, clearly irritated gulp, Mia said to Ford, “Let’s go see if my mom needs some help.”
“Mrs. Sullivan,” Ford said as they walked into the kitchen, “everything smells great.”
“Call me Claudia, please.”
Mia couldn’t resist reaching into the salad bowl to pull out a candied walnut. “Here, taste this. She roasts them herself.”
Ford made a sound that told both Mia and her mother just how good he thought the small sugared nut tasted. “Claudia, what can I help with?”
“Why don’t you and Mia finish setting the table?”
One week ago, Mia had called Ford a self-centered egomaniac. Now, she knew there wasn’t one inch of Ford that was a rock star prima donna who expected to sit back and be served. On the contrary, Mia got the sense that he really enjoyed putting the colorful plates and pretty blown-glass tumblers on the table.
Adam scowled as he wandered past, and Mia decided she’d better deal with him before he pushed her so far that she’d have to leap across the dinner table to slug some sense back into him.
“I’ve got that thing in the car for you, Adam.”
“Thing? What thing?” But he followed her out the front door.
“This thing.” She hit his upper arm hard enough that he winced. “That’s for being a jerk to my guest. Up until fifteen minutes ago, you were Ford’s biggest fan.”