Page 41 of A Whole New Trick

It's better to be safe than sorry.

“You got it.” The driver takes the cash. “Have a good night.”

I sense Morgan’s thoughts are running a mile a minute as we walk up the long drive leading to an impressive two-story home that looks more like a mini-mansion than a ranch home.

I wait for Morgan to say something—maybe a helpful hint on how to act when I meet her brothers for the first time. Should I shake their hand? Or should I just nod a greeting when she introduces us?

It’s been over a decade since I met a girlfriend’s family. Any advice would be welcome.

But Morgan is silent. The unease I felt on the drive over has amplified to a degree that permeates the fresh air.

Three steps lead up to the concrete porch, which runs the length of the house. In the center, a pair of double doors with beveled glass windows sits. In front of them, an extra-long doormat with the initial “C” is laid out.

I’m one step behind Morgan. Her feet barely touch the top step before one of the doors flings open, and a guy with shoulders broader than mine fills the doorway.

“Pipsqueak!” He reaches out and snatches Morgan into his arms, squeezing. “About time you showed up.”

The porch light reveals his bright smile and shaggy brown hair, which matches Morgan’s.

“Let me go, you oaf.” She gasps. “You’re crushing me.”

The guy, I assume, is one of her brothers, obliges only to be replaced by a second broad figure who shoves the first aside and picks her up for another tight hug.

“Morgie! Took you long enough to get here.”

Morgie?

I snicker.Cute.

I stiffen when I notice the two men are now staring at me. The second one’s eyes trail over me as he still holds Morgan in his arms.

“You brought Larson?” I can’t get a read on if he’s indifferent or irritated by that fact.

“I did.” She slaps a hand on his arm. “Put me down so I can introduce you.”

The second guy, who is just slightly taller than the first but still an inch shorter than me, puts Morgan on her feet and straightens.

“Hey, man.” I step forward and hold out a hand to the brother who last put Morgan down. “I’m Dane.”

He eyes my hand for a prolonged second. I don’t waver. I know a test when I see one. And I’m determined to pass his inspection.

Finally, Morgan’s brother takes my hand. His grip is firm but not over-the-top. “I’m Mason.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

The other brother steps forward. “I’m Miles.”

We shake hands.

“You’re twins, right?”

“We are.” The pair say simultaneously as they glance at their sister. “Been talking about us, Pipsqueak?” Miles asks.

“Hardly.” Morgan scoffs, but she casts me a curious look, wondering how I knew her brothers were twins. She should know Eli tells me what they talk about.

“Where’s Matthew?” Morgan brushes past her brothers and enters the house. Miles and Mason follow. As the last inside, I close the door behind me.

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