I leaned into Cameron, kissing his bicep. “I’m sorry about my sister.”
He chuckled. “Baby, your sister’s cute. I never mind a cute girl coming onto me.”
I slapped his chest with a mock gasp. “You’re going to pay for that later.”
His eyes flashed and he leaned down to kiss me quickly. “I hope I do.”
I bit my lip, taking his hand and leading him through the house into the kitchen. It took a minute, because he wanted to stop in every room to admire the architecture.
“Did you get lost?” Mom asked once we finally arrived.
“Sorry, that was my fault, Mrs. St. Marks,” Cameron said, reaching his hand out. “Your home is incredible. We don’t see architecture like this on the West Coast. 1840s colonial, am I right?”
Mom put her hand over her heart, and I nearly did a little dance of joy.
He had her.
One thing about my mother was her love of history and if you compliment her home, you score points, but if you recognize the history of her home, you’re in.
“1841, yes,” Mom confirmed. “The house had been added on a few times, but the bones were great when Dan’s father bought it back in the fifties. He raised Dan in this house, and then we inherited andgutted it, bringing it back to its glory.”
“You did an amazing job.”
“Tess mentioned you’re in construction?” Mom asked.
“I am.”
“How long have you been doing that?”
“Pretty much out of high school,” he said. “I work with my brothers.”
“Oh, goodness.” She smiled. “Working with family can be tough.”
“It’s not so bad,” he countered. “We’re a close-knit unit. We lost our parents young, so we had to be.”
My brothers chose that moment to bombard him with introductions, then my father walked in and all eyes were on him.
“Sorry,” Dad said as he strolled into the room. “My call went a little long.” He smiled, reaching out to shake Cameron’s hand. “Nice to put a face to the voice.”
He and Cameron had already had some kind of man-to-man chat when Cameron had insisted on asking for my hand in marriage. I’d thought it was an antiquated tradition, but Cameron had made the argument that my parents were important to me, so they were important to him.
It was sweet, if somewhat old-fashioned.
“Nice to finally meet you in person,” Cameron returned.
“Why don’t we chat in the den?”
“What?” I squeaked. “Why do you need to chat in the den?”
Cameron chuckled. “It’ll be fine, Tess.”
Cameron followed Dad out of the kitchen and I faced my mother. “What’s that all about?”
“I’m sure I have no idea.”
“I’m sure you have every idea.”
“You know, you are both welcome to stay here,” Mom said, changing the subject.
