Page 96 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis
CHRISTIAN
“So, I made an arrangement.”
Naomi was standing in my kitchen, wearing my shirt from the night before, but her hair was pulled in a neat bun. A single brow rose up her face, curiosity etched in her features.
“What kind of arrangement?” she paused. “This feels like déjà vu.”
I chuckled. We’d been together officially for three days, and I was looking forward to seeing how she would mix in my family dynamic.
“It’s just Sunday dinner. Nothing formal.”
“At your aunt’s house?”
“Yes. Where my entire extended family will be gathered to examine you under a microscope.”
She peered at me. “You’re not selling this very well.”
I laughed. “You said you wanted to meet my brothers.”
“Yes, but not if I’m under a microscope.”
“They’re going to love you, but my aunts are going to interrogate you. They’ve been waiting years for one of us to bring home a woman we adore.”
“You adore me?”
“Yes,” I walked closer to her. “I adore you, Naomi.”
Naomi set down her coffee and crossed her arms. “What if they don’t like me?”
“That’s impossible.”
“What if I say the wrong thing?”
“There is no wrong thing with my family. Trust me, I’ve seen my father’s comedy sets. We’ve all said worse.”
She was quiet for a long moment, and I could see her working through every possible scenario in her head.
“What if they ask about my business?”
“Then tell them about your business, unless you don’t want to. You can reveal as much or as little as you like. It’s no pressure.”
“What if they ask about my past?”
“They won’t do that, and under the unlikely scenario that they do, what I said before stands. Tell them as much or as little as you want. If you want to talk about your past, so be it. If you mention your ex, they’ll probably offer to beat him up.”
That got a small smile.
“Christian...”
“What?”
“This is a big step.”
“I know.”
She stared at me for another minute, then sighed. “What time should I be ready?”
My Aunt Cherry’s two-story house in Brentwood boasted red brick and white shutters. The front porch was where my father used to practice his comedy routines on anyone who’d listen.The driveway was already full of cars, which meant we were the last to arrive.
