Page 55 of Talk Wicked to Me

He pulled open the door and followed her into the rustic bar, which was more of a pub during the day, with a full lunch menu. He scanned the room, recognizing a few familiar faces among the customers and temporary summer staff. He spotted his mother behind the bar and his father standing by a booth talking with a young couple seated there. He noticed a few women checking him out, and while he might’ve eaten up their attention weeks ago, he no longer had any interest beyond Emerson and Brennan.

“There’s your mom,” Emerson said, waving to his mother, who was grinning from ear to ear.

He put his hand on Emerson’s back, keeping Brennan close as they made their way to the bar, and gritted his teeth against the jealousy clawing at him as guys ogled Emerson. She was so damn beautiful, he’d bet she got that everywhere she went.

His mother said something to the other bartender, and she came around to greet them. Her strawberry-blond waves hung long and loose over the shoulders of her forest-green tank top.

“Hi, Mom.” Baz leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“Hi, honey. I’m glad you guys made it.” She beamed at Emerson and drew her into a warm embrace. “How’s our girl? You look beautiful.”

Hearing his mother call her our girl tweaked something inside him that felt fucking fantastic.

“Thank you,” Emerson said. “This is one of the shirts you gave me. I love it.”

“It fits perfectly.” His mother smiled down at Brennan, still fast asleep, and sighed. “Look at him with his binky. I know I just saw him two days ago, but I swear he gets cuter by the minute.”

“I have to agree with that,” Baz said as his father walked up behind them and draped his arms over Baz’s and Emerson’s shoulders.

“What are we agreeing with?” his father asked. “That Granny Gingy is totally smitten with Brennan, or that Poppy Con is going to be his favorite?”

Fuck if that didn’t make Baz feel some sort of misplaced pride. “Em, this is my old man, Conroy.”

His father stepped back and opened his arms.

“As if I couldn’t tell?” she said, welcoming his embrace.

“Was it the dimples?” his father asked.

“The dimples, the surfer hair, the fact that you both ooze charm like other men sweat.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“What’s that look for, Lockhart?” Baz asked.

“I was just thinking. I have a client who writes romance for women over forty, and she has the hardest time finding cover models. I bet she’d love to put your dad on a cover.”

“Good Lord, honey, don’t tell Con that,” Ginger pleaded. “He’s already got a big enough head.”

His father laughed. “Don’t worry, darlin’. You’re the only woman I want to take my clothes off for.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

“I didn’t mean that kind of cover,” Emerson said, pink cheeked. “I meant a close-up of your face. Not that you don’t have a good body. I mean, I’m not looking at your body like that. Oh God. I’m going to shut up now.” She covered her face with her hand, and they all laughed.

Baz loved how much more relaxed she was than when she’d first met some of his family. “First you check out Quinton, now my dad. I can see I’m going to have to keep a closer eye on you.”

She rolled her eyes as he draped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her against his side. He’d done the same thing many times before, and just like those times, it made him want to be even closer. But also just like those times, he wasn’t about to let her go.

His father glanced curiously at them.

Baz knew that look in his father’s eyes and prayed he wouldn’t make a smart-ass comment. While he’d admitted in recent weeks to his brothers and cousins that he couldn’t stop thinking about Emerson, he’d made it clear to them, as he had to the rest of his family, that he and Emerson were only friends. He’d demanded they refrain from making innuendos or comments indicating otherwise that might make her uncomfortable.

His father reached for the baby carrier. “You mind?”

“Depends.” Baz eyed him, tightening his grip on the carrier. “Where are you taking him?”

His father turned to Emerson, amused. “Listen to this guy. As if I didn’t raise four kids.”

A flash of sadness washed over Emerson’s face, and Baz knew she was thinking of Ashley, just like he was. But his father didn’t miss a beat.

“You have talked nonstop about Emerson and Brennan for weeks,” his father said. “I just wanted to get a better look at him.”