Page 61 of Love Songs

“This is nice,” I said.

Conor snorted. “Enjoy the calm before the storm. I told them not to all bombard you at once.”

“Oh-oh,” I intoned lightly. “Do I need to worry?”

“Nah.” Conor snickered. “Just the usual ‘hurt my son-brother-uncle and we’ll disappear you’ kind of thing.”

“So, the basic Spanish Inquisition, then,” I replied with a laugh.

Giggles drew my attention to Conor’s nieces and Jaylin, huddled in a circle and no doubt conspiring to take over the world. I’d hoped that Jaylin would find a good group of friends when the house was done and we moved to Caldwell Crossing permanently, but it looked like she was already well on her way.

“Conor. The burgers are burning,” the red-headed man shouted. He was married to Conor’s second oldest sister, Hazel, and his name was . . . Liam?

I hoped again that Conor’s dad wasn’t serious about that quiz later.

“Flip them your own damn self,” Conor shot back with a playful smirk on his lips. He turned to me, paused for the briefest of seconds, then leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on my cheek. “Be right back.”

With a wink, he got up and sauntered over to the barbecue, all loose-limbed and sexy. Before I could fully admire his gorgeous ass, someone dropped into his vacated seat. His mother. I looked away, but not quick enough. She grinned at me knowingly.

“He’s a good man,” she said, thankfully not calling me out for ogling her only son.

“Can’t argue with you there,” I said with a smile. He was the best I’d ever met.

“So, Dallas.” Mrs. Holliston shifted in her seat to look at me more fully and mischief sparkled in her warm hazel eyes. “Do you make it a habit of setting stages on fire?”

And so begins the inquisition. . .

For the next ten minutes that felt like ten hours, Mrs. Holliston, who’d insisted I call her Crystal, peppered me with questions about my life, Jaylin, and my plans for the future. I heard the unspoken “and my son” in that last one. I answered honestly, not holding back about my growing feelings for Conor.

She paused in her questioning to take a long sip of her cooler, watching me over the rim of her glass, and I felt like she was coming to a final judgment. She nodded, more to herself than to me. Judgment made.

“I think you’ll be good for him,” she said.

“I would like to be good for him,” I replied without hesitation. I wanted nothing more.

She beamed at me. “He’s always been adventurous, and I would hate for him to lose that sense of fearlessness, but sometimes I would really like him to be a little less reckless. We’ve done our time in the emergency room with him.” She chuckled, her face soft with fondness. “I think having you and your daughter in his life will balance him out.”

“I wouldn’t want to change him,” I agreed with her. “Except for the reckless part. I worry enough with a teenage daughter.”

She burst out laughing, drawing a curious look from Conor.

“Believe me, I know what that’s like,” she said as she rose from the chair and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I raised three of them. Give me a call anytime you need help.”

“Thank you,” I said. Touched by her offer.

She walked away and Conor made to return, but one of his sisters beat him to his chair.

He raised his eyebrows and mouthed, “Are you okay?”

I nodded. I was one hundred percent okay, and if having his family like and accept me meant sitting in this chair all night answering pointed questions, then I was more than happy to do it.

“My turn,” my next inquisitor said, staring at me with eyes almost as intense as Conor’s. “I’m Emma, Conor’s oldest sister.”

“Let me guess,” I teased, my tone conspiratorial. “Hurt your baby brother and you’ll break both my legs.”

She flashed a broad smile at me, confirming I’d said exactly the right thing. “Yes. But don’t worry. I’m a doctor so I’ll fix you right back up after.”

I snorted a laugh and raised my beer bottle to clink against her glass. “Ooh, I think I like you.”

---