Page 47 of Hot Rucking Canadian

Travis gently tapped her chin. “If it’s meant to be, waiting won’t be a big deal. But you might meet someone your age.”

“Are you going to marry Uncle Izzy?” Patti. Never known for discretion.

Badarse drew in a deep breath. “That’s a huge commitment. We’ve only known each other a couple of months.”

“Uncle Peter says you’re living together.” The tenacious girl jutted her chin in defiance.

Travis winced. “Well, yeah. Moving in together made sense.”

“But you’re not married.” Marisol wagged her finger. “Nana says we have to marry before we live with someone.”

“But Paul isn’t.” Patti leaned in. “He’s livingin sinwith his boyfriend.”

Paul’s cheeks reddened.

“How old is Paul?” Travis met her gaze.

“Twenty-six.”

“And his boyfriend?”

“Twenty-seven.” Again, she tried to jut her chin.

“So something completely different. And, in time, Paul might decide to get married. Living in sin isn’t the worst thing in the world, but there’s something to be said for marriage.”

“Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce.” Marisol scrunched her nose.

“Not in this family.” Nana spoke loudly to be heard over the surf. Her words had the group turning, thereby giving away our little spot behind the foliage of a bush.

Travis’s cheeks turned a Rudolph-nose red.

I grinned.

Nana pushed off her chair and headed toward the group. “Only one of my children has gotten divorced. Only two grandchildren. We choose our mates carefully. We marry for life.”

“Izzy’s parents divorced.” Patti again.

Nana poked her finger at her grandchild. “I didn’t say it never happens. I’m saying we encourage family to pick their partners carefully. Isaiah might not realize it yet, but he’s picked a splendid mate in Travis. But they’re taking their time. No sense rushing. And yes, they’re living together in sin. As Travis pointed out, they’re old enough to know better and do it anyway.” She linked her arm with Travis’s. “Now, young man, I want you to walk down the beach with me.”

Travis shot me a panicked gaze over her head.

I shrugged with a huge smile.

They headed down the beach.

I leaned back, closing my eyes and enjoying the sun. Summers could get warm and, although I visited often, I still couldn’t reconcile the heat with Christmas. I was a good Canadian boy who loved his snow—even if Vancouver almost never saw a white Christmas.

My reverie was interrupted by a small body landing on my lap.

“Unca Izzy, read.” Pippa dropped a picture book in my hands. She was all of five and one of the bravest of all the kids—which was saying something.

I worried she’d be a holy terror when she got older. But then, truly, she’d fit in with this crew.

I smiled. “Yes, pumpkin, whatever you’d like.”

Chapter Seventeen

Travis

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