Page 30 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis (In The Heart of A Valentine #17)

Chapter

Twenty-One

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.

“Oh God,” Naomi muttered, gripping my hand tighter as we walked to the door. “How many people are we talking about?”

“Not that many. My dad, my brothers, some aunts and cousins.”

“Define ‘some.’”

“All of them.”

She stopped walking. “Christian.”

“You’ll be fine. I promise.”

The front door opened while she was still debating on taking another step, and my father appeared with his arms spread wide.

“There’s my boy! And this must be the woman who’s got him walking around with that stupid grin on his face.”

“Dad, this is Naomi. Naomi, my father, Ron.”

“Ron Valentino,” my father said, taking her hand and kissing it dramatically. “But most people call me the funniest man in St. Louis.”

“Most people are being generous,” I said.

Naomi laughed. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Valentine.”

“Please, call me Ron. Mr. Valentine makes me sound old and respectable, and I’m neither.”

We followed him into the house, and immediately, the noise hit us. Voices were talking over each other, children laughed, and music was playing from the kitchen. It was chaos, but organized chaos.

“Uncle Christian!”

A pink dress and pigtails launched at my legs. I looked down to see my niece, Sade, Xander’s six-year-old daughter, wrapping her arms around my knees.

“Hey there, troublemaker.” I picked her up, and she immediately started chattering.

“I had so much fun at school this week. My teacher bought us pizza for lunch two days in a row.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes! I was so happy because my, my, my daddy packed me some vegetables with my meatloaf in my lunchbox, and I didn’t want that. But I would’ve eaten it, but luckily, I got pizza.”

My laughter echoed through the house, and I turned to eye Naomi, who was laughing with me.

“I got a new Barbie house, it’s the biggest one I’ve ever had. I love my daddy so much. We had teatime and he dressed up in a tutu with me.”

My eyes widened. “Did he?”

“Yes!” she said with enthusiasm. “Oop!” she smacked her mouth with her hand.

“What?”

“He told me not to tell anyone,” she said through a distorted voice.

I laughed harder. “It’s too late. You told.”

She removed her hand and whispered. “You can’t say anything, pinky swear.” She held out her little pink, and I shook my head.

“Un, Un, little princess, I don’t know if I can hold it in.”

Her eyes widened and she looked affright, which made me laugh harder.

“Sade, this is my friend Naomi,” I said once I’d reeled in my laughter.

Sade turned her attention to Naomi with intense scrutiny. “You’re pretty.”

“Thank you. So are you.”

“Daddy says you’re Uncle Christian’s girlfriend.”

I shot a look at Xander, who was approaching with a beer in his hand and a completely unrepentant expression on his face.

“Sade has no filter,” he said, extending his hand to Naomi. “Xander Valentine. Nice to meet the woman my brother’s been hiding from us.”

“I haven’t been hiding her.”

“Then why is this the first time we’re meeting her?”

Sade continued to study Naomi with fascination. “Can you sit next to me at dinner? Please?”

“If that’s okay with everyone else,” Naomi said.

“It’s okay! Daddy, tell her it’s okay!”

“It’s more than okay,” Xander said. “Sade rarely takes to new people this quickly.”

“She has good taste,” I said, setting Sade down.

“I get it from my daddy,” Sade announced, then grabbed Naomi’s hand. “Come meet everyone else!”

Before I could intervene, Sade was dragging Naomi toward the kitchen, where the rest of the family had gathered. I followed, watching as my six-year-old niece introduced Naomi to aunts, uncles, and cousins.

“This is Naomi! She’s Uncle Christian’s girlfriend, and she’s beautiful, and she’s going to sit next to me at dinner!”

The kitchen erupted in greetings, everyone talking at once as they welcomed Naomi. My Aunt Cherry immediately pulled her into a hug, while Aunt Bernice started peppering her with questions about whether she was hungry and what she liked to eat.

“Christian never brings anyone to family dinner,” Cousin Paris said, appearing at my elbow. “This must be serious.”

“It is.”

“Good. It’s about time.”

The front door opened again, and I heard my mother’s voice in the hallway. Ella Mackleberry walked into the kitchen as if she owned the place, which, in many ways, she did. She was elegant as always, with silver hair styled in a bob, wearing a pink dress.

Behind her was Brent, her husband of two years, looking slightly overwhelmed by the noise and chaos but smiling.

“Christian, honey.” My mother kissed my cheek, then turned to Naomi with interest. “And you must be Naomi. It’s nice to put a face to the mystery my son thinks he’s been keeping to himself.”

Naomi blushed. “Mrs. Mackleberry. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Please, call me Ella. And this is my husband, Brent.”

Brent shook Naomi’s hand. “Ella’s told me so much about you.”

“She has?”

My mother smiled. “A mother knows when her son is in love, even when he’s trying to be secretive about it.”

“Mom.”

“What? It’s true. You’ve been different for months. Happier. More complete.” She turned back to Naomi. “Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. I haven’t seen him this content since he was a child.”

“Ella, come help me with the mac and cheese,” Aunt Bernice called from the stove.

“Of course.” My mother squeezed Naomi’s arm. “We’ll talk more later.”

I eased closer to Naomi. “You okay?”

She smiled. “Yes. It’s a lot, but your family is lovely.”

I nodded as Elijah walked up. He held his hand out.

“You look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?” he asked.

Her eyes widened, and she laughed haughtily. “Yes, and no.”

“I can’t put my finger on it,” he snapped his fingers. “Come on, help me out.”

I glanced between them with curiosity.

“My friend Frankie whistled you down at the café a few weeks back. You’re the nurse who works at Barnes-Jewish, right?”

“Oooh,” his face brightened. “That’s iiiiiit!” He laughed. “Wow, small world. Yes and no. I do work at Barnes-Jewish, but I’m a neurosurgeon, not a nurse.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow, what an accomplishment. Not that being a nurse isn’t, but a neurosurgeon is a complicated and delicate career to have, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but the nurses are a packaged deal. We need them just as much.”

“I can imagine. Well, it’s nice to formally meet you. So, you’re Christian’s brother?”

“I am.” He winked over at me, and I smirked.

“And I’m his niece, too,” Sade said, manifesting next to Naomi.

She chuckled, and Elijah responded to Sade. “Yes, you are. And I’m your favorite uncle, aren’t I?”

She smiled widely and looked over at me, then back to Elijah, then hid behind Naomi’s leg. We all laughed, and I shook my head.

“Is Frankie here with you by any chance?” Elijah asked.

“She isn’t, and if I had known you’d been here, I would’ve invited her if that would’ve been okay with Christian.”

“I have no problem with that. I’m interested in meeting your friends.”

She blushed. “Maybe a double date, one day?”

“That sounds good, but I’d like to ask her out before scheduling dates without her knowledge,” Elijah said.

Naomi’s eyes widened, and she tossed her hands up. “Of course!” she murmured. “She’ll be delighted, let me tell you.”

Elijah nodded. “I look forward to it.”

The time moved, and Sade refused to leave Naomi’s side. My niece had decided that Naomi was her new best friend and was currently showing her every single one of her toys she kept at here at the house.

“She’s got good taste,” Elijah said, joining me by the window where I was watching Naomi help Sade set up a tea party in the living room. “Sade, I mean. She usually hides from new people.”

“She’s six. She doesn’t have taste yet.”

“She has instincts. Kids can tell when someone’s good.”