“What’s that?” Ava’s mom asks.
“I’ll come,” I say a little louder.
“Nothing, Mom,” Ava replies while putting a hand over my mouth.
“Is someone with you? I thought I heard another voice.” Her mother’s voice is a mix of confused and curious.
Ava’s eyes close and she takes a deep breath before answering. “Uh. yeah. I’m going to bring a friend with me.”
“Oh, is it Celine? I’d love to see her again.”
Ava pulls her hand away and gives me a look that tells me to be quiet.
“No, it’s someone you haven’t met before.” Her mom startsto interject but Ava keeps going. “All right, see you in a few days!” With that, she hits a button and throws her phone down.
“Are you sure you want to meet my parents?” she asks, reaching for the blanket and draping it over her lap. “My mom can be a bit much at times, and my dad…” She shakes her head. “They’re going to assume we’re dating and have a field day with it. Are you okay with that?”
I gently stroke my finger against her cheek. “I am your mate. It makes sense for me to meet your family. I want to,” I assure her.
She gives a small, hopeful smile. “Okay. Just … prepare yourself.”
A few days later, we stand in front of a cherry red front door, and Ava fidgets nervously. I’m not quite certain how someone manages to make their fingers go around each other so many times.
“Don’t worry,” I speak up, in case her nervousness has anything to do with me. “I remember everything you told me and will be on my best behavior.”
Pounding footsteps on the other side of the door signal the incoming hurricane that is Ava’s mom. Based on everything she’s told me, Linda McGuire is a force to be reckoned with, but so is Ava so I wouldn’t expect anything less.
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” she grumbles.
The door swings open, bringing with it a wave of floral perfume.
“Ava!” A woman with dark hair pulls her into a tight hug. She’s shorter than Ava. Petite. But the strength with which she holds her is shocking. Ava, who was grumblingjust a second ago, beams and holds on just as tight. Burying her face in her mother’s hair, she soaks in the attention.
The women pull back from each other, and Mrs. McGuire holds Ava’s cheeks. Love shines on every feature of her face as she runs her hands over Ava’s arms in a comforting caress. Their auras intertwine with each other; Ava’s a vibrant purple and Linda’s a pastel orange.
“Look at my beautiful girl. I know it hasn’t been too long since you visited, but I’m glad you’re here.” She’s so absorbed in her daughter she hasn’t noticed me yet.
“Me too.” Ava grabs her mom’s hand and swings their arms.
Linda spots me standing off to the side, and her eyes zero in, taking me in from my dark hair down to my boots. I can feel her assessment and channel my angel training, standing still under a general’s stare.
“Who is Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome?” she asks her daughter with obvious approval in her gaze.
Ava sputters, “Mom!”
“Valen, ma’am.” I hold out a hand, which she shakes with both of her own.
“When you said you were bringing a friend, I thought you meant a gal. This is above and beyond.” Linda tucks my hand under her arm, and I hold in the flinch as she leads me into the house, her daughter forgotten behind us. “Come this way, dear. You can meet my husband and tell me more about yourself.”
I feel Ava’s exasperation and concern at the contact her mom is making with my body.
“Larry! Come meet Valen,” Linda calls upstairs. Then she gets to work assembling what looks to be cubed cheeses on a wooden plank. Odd.
“Yeah, Dad, it’s not like I’m here too!” Ava calls after taking her shoes off at the door. I suppose I should’ve done the sameand quickly join her so I can remove my boots. She gives me a small smile and grabs my pinkie, giving it a tiny squeeze.
Shuffling down the stairs, a tall, lean man with completely gray hair reveals himself. He sports a pair of wire-framed glasses and holds a tabby cat in his arms. His aura is also pastel orange in color.
“My favorite girl is here?” He smiles and the wrinkles around his eyes deepen. These are three people who have lived and loved together. I feel a pang at the memory of my own childhood.
