Page 70 of Forged By Sacrifice

“But you’re a people guy.”

He nodded. “I am. But people and family can be two very different animals.”

I laughed. “Are you calling your family animals?”

He reached out a hand from where it had been crossed over his chest and touched the corner of my lips. “You have the most gorgeous smile I’ve ever seen.”

He brushed the finger across my lips and heat shimmered its way down my body. Dense and intoxicating like that summer storm our first kiss had reminded me of. We were caught in that moment, particles drifting between us, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to move.

A door slamming downstairs and voices calling out broke us apart. He pulled his hand back slowly and said, “Come on, before Mom sends a search party.”

We headed downstairs where I could hear the commotion before seeing it.

When we entered the huge kitchen, there were at least a dozen people milling around. Some were helping Clare with the food, some were gathered around a large oak table that looked like it had been standing in a farmhouse for centuries, and others were hollering back and forth from the adjoining, formal dining room.

A large man with white at his temples and Mac’s blue eyes approached and reached out a hand. “Georgia, it’s a pleasure. I’m Reggie, Mac’s dad.”

I shook his hand. “Thank you for letting me invade your weekend.”

“Invade?” He laughed. “I actually feel like we’re down a few this year.”

Clare hollered for everyone to come eat, and I realized, even though their home was a mansion in Greenville, one of the richest cities in Delaware according to the internet, the Whittaker clan was very much a down-to-earth group. No sit-down, fancy meal. Just dish up from the pots and dishes on the counter and find a seat wherever there was room.

I found myself at the farmhouse table with Mac and two little boys of an indeterminate age—I was not up on kid-speak or ages. But it was clear they were related to Mac, because their smiles were all the same: wide with beautiful lips and almost dimples.

“Uncle Robbie, Mom says I can’t play poker yet, so are you going to play Uno with us instead?” the oldest of the two asked.

Mac leaned over the table. “Shh. We’ll tell your mom it’s UNO, and we’ll really play poker.”

The boy made an excited yes motion with his fist.

“Can I play, too?” asked the younger one.

“You’re too young,” the older one said.

“Troy, if you get to play, then Sam does too,” Mac informed him. The older one rolled his eyes.

“He’ll just end up eating the cards again.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me at that. The boys turned their eyes to me. The older one had the blue eyes of Mac, but the younger one’s were a deep brown.

“Who are you?”

“Sam, Troy, this is my friend, Georgie.”

“Isn’t George a boy name?” the younger one, who I’d put together as being Sam, said.

“It’s really Georgia,” I told him with a smile.

“Like the state?” Troy asked.

I nodded.

“Why would someone name you after a state?”

“I was really named after a character in a book.” I smiled.

A woman joined us who didn’t look like Mac or Dani. Instead, she had blonde hair and hazel eyes, but when she smiled, it was with Mac’s and Dani’s smile.

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