Dad nodded slowly, still sizing him up. "I've heard good things about the operation. Honest work, fair pay, takes care of his people."
"Ethan's a good man," Daemon said. "Gave me a chance when I needed one. I don't take that lightly."
My father's expression changed. Not approval exactly, but acknowledgment. "A man who values loyalty is worth knowing."
Before the conversation could get more intense, chaos erupted from the kitchen. Jack, Holly's six-year-old, came barreling into the living room ahead of his mother, who followed, looking harried. Emma trailed in behind them, fifteen and doing her best to look like she hadn't been rushing.
"Aunt Nadia."
Emma gave me the typical teenage hug of someone who wanted contact but didn't want to seem too eager. I hugged her properly because I'd been doing it since she was born, and I wasn't stopping now. "Hey, bug."
"Don't call me bug," she said, but she was smiling.
"Never." I looked her over. The swelling was gone, the color was back. She looked like herself again. "Feeling better?"
She glanced away. "Yeah. Sorry about all that."
"Don't be. That's what I'm here for." I steered her toward Daemon. "This is Daemon. Daemon, Emma. And somewhere in this house is Jack."
Jack, never one for shyness, came barreling in from the hallway and walked right up to Daemon. "Do you like dinosaurs?"
Daemon crouched to Jack's eye level, completely serious. "I think dinosaurs are awesome. What's your favorite?"
"Velociraptor! They hunt in packs, and they're super smart."
"Good choice. I'm more of a T-Rex guy myself, but velociraptors are definitely cool."
That settled it. Jack was sold. He grabbed Daemon's hand and pulled him toward the toy box in the corner. "Come see my collection!"
I watched Daemon let a six-year-old drag him across the room without complaint, and something warm settled in my chest. Emma appeared at my elbow, watching the same scene.
"He seems okay," she said, which, from a fifteen-year-old, was practically a glowing endorsement.
"High praise."
"Don't push it." But Emma was still watching him, something thoughtful in her expression.
Holly materialized on my other side. "Okay, that's unfair. He's hot and good with kids?"
"Shut up," I said, but I was smiling.
"Mom said you were bringing someone. I didn't expect—" She gestured vaguely at where Daemon sat on the floor with Jack, the pair examining plastic dinosaurs as if a dissertation were due. "That."
"Yeah, well. He surprised me too."
"How serious is this?" she asked, keeping her voice down.
I watched Daemon help Jack set up an elaborate dinosaur battle scene, running through responses in my head before settling on the truthful one. "We haven't put a name on it yet."
Holly followed my gaze and gave me the look she'd been giving me since we were kids, the one that said she could read the name from where she was standing. "Sure you haven't." She gripped my arm. "Good. You deserve someone who makes you smile like that."
Dinner was the organized chaos that Sunday meals at the Becker house always were. With a guest in the mix, my mother had outdone herself, enough food to feed an army.
Daemon fit in seamlessly. He complimented my mother's cooking, helped Jack cut his chicken, asked Emma about school, and listened when my father talked about the state of the world. He was charming without trying too hard, respectful without being stiff.
And when the sink backed up halfway through dinner, a recurring problem in this old house, Daemon didn't hesitate.
"Mind if I look?" he asked my father. "I've got tools in my truck."
