His eyebrows shot up. “Serious?”
I nodded.
“Maybe there are some risks he’s willing to take,” Knox suggested.
“Maybe,” I allowed.
“Are you going to finesse that?”
“Can you assure me no unsavory detritus is going to infiltrate Byron’s life in a way that makes it dangerous to date him?”
“Life throws curve balls, baby,” he said quietly. “What I can say is, he’s a solid guy. He’s sharp as fuck. And he makes a small fortune doing what he does.”
Something to think on.
“Did you have a good day?” he asked.
“Outside learning about Byron, yeah.”
His head ticked. “Are you pissed about that?”
“You guys could have told us,” I pointed out.
“According to Byron, that’s need to know,” he replied. “Though, I encourage you to look at it in the sense that we knew you women would find out, and that was why we started a pool.”
I guessed that was complimentary.
Mom appeared in the doorway, eyes on me. “Time to strap down the kids. Can you help with that, smoochface?”
Smoochface.
Mom had a way with an endearment. I kept thinking she’d eventually run out of them, but she kept coming up with new ones.
Like smoochface.
I pushed out of my seat, saying, “Yeah.”
I noticed Knox getting up, thus I turned to him. “You are not hefting around children with a bad leg and bad shoulder.”
“None of them weigh even fifty pounds,” he retorted.
God!
He was driving me crazy.
“Are you going to backtalk me every single time I say something, that something being said trying to look out for you?” I returned.
He grinned even as he bent, scooped Feather up under his arm like she was a sack of flour, she squealed in delight, and he replied, “It’s more fun that way.”
Ugh.
I saved Harmony from the confines of the playpen, called to Dusk, and headed to the dining room.
Knox and Feather followed.
“Okay, so, your mom and me have made a decision,” Dad declared halfway into us scarfing down Mom’s scrumptious lentil pasta.
Great, so this wasn’t a let’s-just-spend-some-time-together family dinner.
