Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)

The spacious living room was empty and quiet, but plenty of noise spilled out from down the hall.

“Brace yourself,” Ford murmured as they followed his mother. “It’s going to be chaos.”

He wasn’t kidding. They stepped into the huge family room and found themselves surrounded by people. Ford was one of six kids. Four of his siblings were married and every one of them had at least one child. Some more. Which meant there were thirteen adults and eight kids, a number of dogs and more noise than a rock concert.

“Ford!” Montana called when she saw her brother. She rushed toward him. His other sisters followed suit.

Isabel stayed close and greeted everyone. As Ford had promised, the family was friendly and welcoming. But as the minutes passed and Ford was hugged and patted on the back and attacked by toddlers who thought he was cool, she felt a subtle tension invading him.

She studied him closely, wondering at the cause. He was still smiling and joking. But she saw the tightness of the muscles in his jaw and the way he kept glancing toward the exit. She felt the extra beat before he responded to questions about settling into town.

She didn’t know if it was the press of people or the fact that he was dealing with his family at close range and all at once, but she realized the situation was difficult for him.

Not sure what to do, she moved next to him and took his hand. “Can we get something to drink?”

Her request caused a flurry of activity. While the family was distracted, she squeezed his fingers. She raised herself on tiptoe.

“Three hours, big guy. Then I get to be on top.”

He flashed her a smile and she felt him relax.

By the time the bottles of wine had been opened, the guys had gone back to watching the game and the women were collecting in the kitchen. The older kids disappeared into the game room, while the babies were passed around.

“Can I help with anything?” Isabel asked Denise.

“I’ve got it under control,” Ford’s mother said, then sighed. “It’s so nice to have the whole family here.”

Montana joined them. “Kent’s by himself.”

“You say that like you’re surprised,” Denise said.

“I am. He’s seeing someone. I thought he’d bring her.”

Denise turned around and stared at her middle son. “Kent is dating?” She raised her voice to be heard across the room and over the game. “Kent, you’re dating?”

Kent looked at her, then stared at Montana. “Really?” he asked. “You couldn’t give me a couple of weeks of privacy?”

Montana winced. “Sorry. It just slipped out.”

Simon, Montana’s husband, was instantly at her side, as if to protect her. “Is everything all right?” he asked.

Montana smiled at him. “I’m fine. If I need you to slice up my brother into tiny pieces, I’ll let you know.”

Simon kissed her. “I would appreciate that.”

He returned to the game.

“Who’s Kent seeing?” Denise asked, lowering her voice. “One of the women I suggested?”

“I don’t think she was on the list.”

Over Fourth of July, Denise had set up a booth at the festival—looking for a wife for Kent and for Ford. She’d had baby pictures of her boys so interested women could get an idea of what their children might look like, and she’d taken applications.

“Do you know Consuelo Ly?” Montana asked.

Denise frowned. “Why is that name familiar?”

“She teaches at the bodyguard academy,” Isabel said, wondering why her friend hadn’t mentioned dating Kent. “Have they been seeing each other long?”

“No,” Montana said. “I don’t think so.”

Isabel figured Montana had been talking to Carter—Reese’s friend. Reese was Kent’s son and would be the person to know if his dad was seeing anyone.

Ah, the thrill of small-town living.

* * *

“HE’S A FLIRT,” Dakota said with a sigh. “I don’t want to think about what he’s going to be like when he’s in high school.”

“It’ll start before high school,” Nevada said with a grin. “Look at those dimples.”

“Speaking of dimples and babies,” Denise said, passing around the sliced roast. “Are you and Tucker ready to have another baby?”

Nevada grimaced. “Mom, get off me. It hasn’t even been six months.”

“I know, but you waited awhile to get started. Grandbabies, people. I can’t have too many.”

“Denise,” Max said gently from the far end of the table. “Don’t torture your children.”

She smiled at him. “You’re right.”

Dakota leaned toward Isabel. “Max is the voice of reason. He keeps Mom in check and for that we’re grateful.”