“Don’t be a smartass, boy,” his father growled. “I wish Grace had arrived yesterday, like she’d said she would.”
If his sister was smart, she’d delay coming for a few more days. Major Grace Sinclair kicked ass in the Marine Corps. She’d taken some time off for the holiday, but only after he’d promised he’d be around to run interference.
Grace, like Damon, took after their dad, large and gruff. So that when their mother worked her smiling and charming wiles on her children, Grace folded like a cheap suit every time. And she hated it.
“You know, Grace is a pretty decent cook, Mom. I bet she’d be happy to help you Friday.” He smiled, not feeling bad at all throwing his sister to the parental predators staring at him. “I have a date anyway.”
Scenting blood in the water, his parents perked up. Great. He’d gotten them off his case about dinner Friday, but at a cost.
“A date with who?”
“Do we know her?” his mother asked. “How did you meet her?”
He shrugged and took a seat, giving his knee a rest. He’d been doing his best to heal, easing pressure on his knee while also staying mobile, needing to move the joint around. The brace he wore helped.
“I met her when I was out to dinner with Cade last night. She’s nice. Pretty. Just thought I’d try to be more social since I have some time.”
His mother smiled.
His father harrumphed.
Damon narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”
“More social? Try social at all. You live like a damn monk. We’re not getting any younger, boy. Get married and have some kids so your mother can spoil the grandchildren she deserves.”
“You’re on this again? Shouldn’t you be saving this spiel for Grace?”
“Oh, we’ll be talking to her too.”
“Good.” He really should feel worse about messing with his sister. But no. He didn’t. Served her right for torturing him when they were kids.
“So the girl…?” His mother looked so hopeful.
“I don’t want to jinx it. I’ll tell you after.” That was if she didn’t ghost him. With Marlie, he wouldn’t put it past her. Man, he had a massive crush on the woman.
His father eyeballed him then gave him a chilling smile.
“What’s that grin all about? Should I call a priest? You look possessed.”
His mother choked on the sip of water she’d taken and tried to stop laughing.
That wiped the smile off his dad’s face. He shifted across the recliner toward Leila and patted her gently on the back when she leaned forward. “You’re lucky I’m injured or I’d paddle that backside. You’re not too big to punish, boy.”
Damon just rolled his eyes, aware his father might try it even now. “I was kidding. I don’t even want to know what goes on in your brain.”
“You want to know? I’ll tell you.”
Damon groaned.
“This girl. She’s the one.”
“The one what? I haven’t even gone on a date with her. She could be crazy.” Oh man. Mean and crazy? Insta-love for sure.
“No. I know that look.” Mike turned to Leila and nodded. “When he was thinking about her, he had the smile.”
Leila blinked. “The smile?”
“Yep. The same one I had when I first saw you. It’s the Sinclair Gift. Boy has met his future bride.”
