Page 112 of The Defender

“That’s different,” Carina said. “There are penguins in Antarctica. There are no penguins here to make the cold worth it.”

“Maybe you’ll feel differently if you date one of the players,” I teased. “They can be your version of a penguin in London.”

“Ha!” She snorted. “I doubt it. None of the players are anywhere near as cute.”

Despite her words, I noticed a telltale blush creeping across her cheeks, but I held my tongue—for now.

We bundled into my sedan. Scarlett sat in the middle backseat, as always. Because of her accident, she had a lot of anxiety around cars. I was one of the few drivers she trusted, and I made sure to be extra careful with the speed limit when she was in the backseat.

Carina settled into the passenger seat, and we were on our way.

My nerves intensified as we got closer to Scarlett’s house. Vincent and I had spent most of the break together, and it’d been a dream, filled with lingering dinners and aimless wanders through the city. But he’d told me one thing that had stuck inmy mind for the past week, and I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening any longer.

“Did your dad confirm?” I glanced at Scarlett in the rearview mirror.

She nodded. “He’s dying to meet you.”

“Oh, great.” I tried not to freak out and focused on the road instead.

I’d met Scarlett and Vincent’s mom before, but I’d never met their dad. He lived in Paris, and they usually alternated holidays between their parents. But this year, he’d flown to London to celebrate with themandhis ex-wife. It was a big deal.

“Don’t worry. He’ll love you,” Scarlett reassured me, obviously picking up on my anxiety.

“If he doesn’t, he has bad taste,” Carina added.

I let out a forced laugh. “Right.”

Their mom liked me. Their dad should too, right? Then again, their parents were divorced, so maybe they had different tastes in people.

My stomach cramped. I’d never felt this nervous about meeting the parents, but I’d never liked anyone as much as Vincent either. What if his dad hated me? What if he thought I wasn’t good enough for his son and told Vincent to dump me?

It was unlikely, given what Scarlett and Vincent had told me about their father, but it was possible.

Scarlett’s parents had skipped the match to prep the food, and their cars were already parked outside when we arrived at the house.

“Girls! It’s so good to see you!” Vincent’s mom was the first to greet us when we walked in. She hugged and cooed over Scarlett and Carina before stopping at me. “Oh, look at you. You’re even prettier than I remembered!” She swept me up in a hug too. She was five foot one, but her big personality eclipsed her petite build. Her short blond curls smelled like fruit-scented hairspray,and her gold sequined jacket sparkled so brightly, I wished I’d brought my sunglasses.

I smiled and hugged her back. “Thank you, Ms. Hughes. You look great, too. Happy holidays.”

“Happy holidays, dear.” She pulled back, her eyes twinkling. “Can I just say, I’m absolutelydelightedthat Vincent came to his senses and snapped you up. I always thought you’d make the cutest couple.”

“Leave the poor girl alone, Emily.” A sonorous French accent interrupted before I could respond. “She just walked in, and you attack her.”

Emily’s smile faded as she glared at someone behind me. “I didn’t attack her. I greeted her. Honestly, have you been removed from civilization for so long that you can’t tell the difference?”

“I apologize for my ex-wife.” A handsome man with dark hair walked over, wearing a blue Christmas sweater and holding a glass of wine. “She’s very excitable, and I’m not. It’s one of the reasons we divorced. That, and I hate blood pudding while she loves it.”

Emily rolled her eyes and muttered something about horrid taste beneath her breath.

He ignored her and held out his hand. “I’m Jean-Paul, Scarlett and Vincent’s father. You must be Brooklyn.”

“Yep. I mean, yes.” I blushed and shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Please, call me JP. My father is the onlysirin our family,” he said good-naturedly. “So you’re the girl who captured my son’s heart. I’m impressed. I thought he was making you up to get us off his back about settling down.”

“Oh, it’s too early for that. He’s still in his trial period. If he forgets to pick up his socks or put down the toilet seat, I might return him,” I joked before I froze, suddenly worried I’d crossedthe line with someone who wasn’t familiar with my sense of humor yet.

JP blinked. But then he burst into gales of laughter, and I smiled in relief. Even though he wasn’t Vincent’s biological father, they shared the same infectious laugh. It was incredibly charming.