The Reluctant Romantics Box Set (The Fall, The Mind, The Heart)

“Guess so,” he said, taking his leave and giving the Martins a soft wave. He turned to me and winked before he walked to his bike. Dallas looked between us and gave me a full on smile that I pretended to ignore.

One of the things I’d always loved about my family home is that it was unpredictable. On any given day, anything could happen. My parents vowed to each other long ago to never take a day for granted, and though a good amount of days at the Whittaker house were relatively boring, a good many were filled with excitement. And the source of that excitement had always been the brainchild of my parents. Tonight was no exception. They’d decided to host a fiesta.

I walked into the beautiful, Spanish-style house my father had built years before I was born and heard hysterical laughter. I noted Jack’s bike in the drive as I shut the front door and a little jolt of something raced through me. He’d threatened to kiss me and do it well. It was kind of an asinine thing to be excited about as an adult woman, yet it was warmly welcomed by this woman. I was in dire need of sexual attention, but I already knew Jack wanted to take things slow.

I entered the kitchen to find my mother blending margaritas while Al Green sang “Love and Happiness” in the background.

“Hello,” I called out as my dad looked up at me with a grin.

“Little woman!”

I hesitated only a second before I walked toward him to give him a hug. He was a little too enthusiastic.

“And how many margaritas have you had today, sir?” I asked in jest as I pretended not to look around for Jack, who was nowhere in sight.

“Your mom may have challenged me earlier, and I may have risen to it.”

“And you may have lost your ass on that bet,” my mother piped in happily behind him as she slowed the blender. “Hey, Rose, margarita?”

“What’s with the celebration?” I said, noting my mother’s slow execution of pour before she thrust a huge salted glass of margarita in my face.

“Our son is pregnant with our fifth grandchild and our daughters are about to open a clinic to save thousands of lives. What parent wouldn’t be celebrating?” my father roared as my mother started a new batch in the blender.

“Paul!” I yelled at the top of my lungs just as he poked his head in the kitchen with a smile. “Another one?”

“Yep,” he said as I lunged at him and hugged him tightly to me.

My brother Paul was a replica of my father with strawberry blond hair and green eyes. His face was filled with pride as he looked down at me. “Can you believe it?”

“Absolutely! I’m so happy for you!” I mused then looked past him in search of his wife. “Where is she?”

“She went to pick up the twins and head home, she’s having it rough this time with sickness, but she told me to tell you to come by sometime this week.”

The concerned doctor in me spoke up. “Ah, that sucks. Are you giving her—”

My older brother rolled his eyes at me while he cut me off. “Yes, doc, we have it under control. You forget your other brother is her doctor.” My brother and his wife had a horrible time trying to conceive naturally. I could honestly claim my sister’s husband Dean was responsible for the birth of all four of my nieces and nephews. Not only had he given Dallas the gift of her ch

ildren, but as a specialist, he’d helped my brother conceive his.

“Right.” I smiled at him, my chest bursting with pride. “Well, I’ve been meaning to come by, anyway. I want some time with the twins.”

“Anytime, Rosebud,” he said, taking a large sip of my margarita before handing it back to me.

“Where is everybody?”

“In the living room,” he said, walking past me with an empty glass, holding it out toward my mother.

She smiled at him with the same tenderness she would with Dallas or me. Though Paul had been a result of my father’s first marriage, words like half-brother or step-mom never crossed either of their lips. We were family, and there was no half to it as far as my mother was concerned. She’d accepted Paul as her own and never looked back.

Al Green grew louder as I entered the living room and took note of the full-fledged party before me. I saw my nephew first, getting down as he bounced his diaper-clad butt around the room. His chubby hands were at his sides and he was doing the dancing type squat thing that babies often do. I was completely enamored as I looked up to Dallas, who was recording him with her cell phone, a doting smile on her face. I loved that look on her. Dallas had been such a hard-ass her whole life, and though we all loved her regardless, it was disarming to see her so in love with her family. She was a glowing mother, one that took pride in her children and adored them, though she often voiced otherwise. Admittedly, her babies were hard to handle, both bursting with personality and quite demanding. It would definitely take a village to raise them, and thankfully, that’s what we were. I loved being a part of it all. It was without a doubt one of the best parts of my life.

I was more than entertained watching Grant until I saw who he was mimicking. Jack had Annabelle in his arms and was swinging his hips to the music in perfect time. My mouth dropped as I watched him move around the living room like a trained lady-killer while he entertained the little girl in his arms. Dallas was too busy watching her son give it all he had to notice Jack. I quickly scanned the room to find Dean digging through my parents’ old records. My father had kept a good amount of them from my parents ‘rave’ days, and every once in a while they would break them out. Apparently, tonight seemed like a good time, but it was the second generation hosting this party. Annabelle laughed and cooed at Jack as the wind from his movement ran through her raven hair. With each dip Jack made with his hips, she screamed out with a giggle. Dallas egged Grant on with a “Go, baby, go,” laughing to herself as Grant really got into it, shaking everything he had. I laughed along with her, still a bit dazzled at Jack’s ability to move the way he did. I found it sexy as hell.

A feeling of fullness I hadn’t experienced in some time surfaced as a memory of the time my parents had attempted to teach us to dance flittered across my mind. I looked to Dallas with sentimental eyes.

She would do the same for her kids, and I would be right there to help her.

Dallas had no rhythm at all, and I was full of it. Not wanting to interrupt the scene unfolding in front of me, I danced along with them at the living room entrance. Minutes later, I found Jack looking over at me in greeting with a warm smile and the lift of his chin. He wasn’t shy at all about the fact that he was dancing in my parents’ living room.