Love and Romance, etc.

"Darling, I'd hardly consider a silk night robe appropriate attire for a family dinner," Emma's mother said, in her typical reproachful tone that managed to dig underneath Emma's skin. "Your brother and his girlfriend will be here soon. Please, go change. Quickly."

"It's good to see you too, Mama," Emma's replied as diplomatic as possible as she kissed her mother on a perfectly powdered cheek, then embraced her father. "Hi, Daddy."

"Hi, baby. How's my little girl?"

"A little frazzled. But I'll bore you will the details during dinner." Her father smiled and squeezed her in a sweet, all-over bear hug. The same way he'd hugged her since she was a little girl. He still smelled of Dial soap and Old Spice, just as she remembered. Despite the numerous after-shaves and designer colognes her mother bought for him, he was a man of ritualistic habits.

The loud dryer buzzer sounded. Finally, her clothes were dry and she wouldn't have to hear another retort from her mother. With a deep sigh of relief she said, "Why don't you both get comfortable while I change. Daddy, there's plenty of Ginger Ale in the fridge and I just made iced tea. Help yourselves." As Emma opened the dryer for her stretch chinos and white cotton blouse, she heard the front door open to a riot of noise indicating her brother and his flavor-of-the-week girl had arrived.

An unpleasant yapping greeted Emma when she walked into her living room. She groaned when she saw a woman holding a large handbag with a small brown snout poking out of it. The snout was attached to large bat-like ears. It looked like a rat with radar dishes on its head. But the slinky brunette didn't look like that rat-carrying type.

"Hey, shortcake. What's shakin'?"

"Hi, Chad." Emma hugged her brother and eyed the woman speculatively. "Who's your friend?"

"Hello, I'm Bianca." Her voice had a practiced bedroom tone that annoyed Emma, but she maintained her smile for her brother's sake. "And this is my Truffles. Isn't he the sweetest thing?" She pulled out the whatever-it-was out of her bag. The only thing Emma knew for certain was that it was brown with spiky hair that stuck out like a porcupine and yapped uncontrollably.

"Ah, what exactly is Truffles?" Emma asked trying to remain courteous.

Bianca gave a sweetly faked laugh and said, "Silly, my Truffles is chestnut Chihuahua puppy." She let the little thing-whatever down and it immediately did the doggy-inspection of sticking its nose into the carpet and furniture.

"I see." That was puppy? "Well, I hope Truffles likes cats, because my Pumpkin can be a little aggressive with strangers." Nothing stranger than the Truffle-rat.

"Cats?" Bianca's face went a bit pale.

"Well, shall we sit for dinner, Emma?" her mother interjected.

"Yes, please. It should be ready. Everyone, please help yourself to salad while I check the pasta noodles."

"Don't you have any Mexican food? I really like tacos," Bianca said.

"Ah, no. We only have Italian cuisine today. Sorry," Emma said, trying to keep from clenching her teeth into tiny pieces. She gave her brother and accusatory look. Chad just gave her an odd smile and shrugged as if to say, "Hey, it doesn't take brains to be great in the sack." Emma figured if Bianca didn't like her cooking, she could always feed her dinner to the dog.

Emma sighed when she saw her dad waiting for everyone to be seated. He looked so big seated at her modest dining table... and looking bored with the whole family dynamics.

The moment everyone settled at the dining table, Pumpkin decided to grace the room with her presence.

"Uh oh," Chad mumbled.

"What?" Emma asked, then nearly had a panic attack when Truffles sprinted right for Pumpkin's plump tabby butt.

Pumpkin jumped three feet in the air, then hissed a nasty kitty curse on her back way down.

"That cat better not hurt my poor Truffer-waffer," Bianca cried while Truffles yapped and barked until Pumpkin ran for cover with her fur puffed out like a blowfish.

Emma wanted to tell Bianca to stuff it until—

"Oh, no—Pumpkin, my sofa—"

Pumpkin spent the rest of the evening locked in the bedroom.

After everyone was finished with their meal, Emma's mother decided it was time for the "Why are you wasting your life" routine.

"Emma, your father and I only want what's best. Working on people's hands and feet will hardly pay for a modest living, much less give you the freedom of buying a home."

"Mom, I like being a manicurist. It makes me happy. Besides, when I open my own shop, I'll be able to earn a better living." Emma looked over at her father for support. "Dad, please tell me you support my decision."

Her father placed her hands between his two larger ones. "I do support you. And I do agree you should be running your own shop. But I wish you'd reconsider my offer to help you finance your start-up costs."

"No," Emma shook her head. This also was an old argument. "I need to do this on my own or it won't mean anything."

"But, darling," her mother continued, "How can you have a social life while you work all those hours at the salon."

"I have a social life."

Her brother snorted. "Right, shortcake. When was the last time you went on a date?" Leave it to Chad to cut right to the chase.

"As a matter of fact, I have a date for tomorrow night."

"That's wonderful, darling. Who is he? When can we meet him?"

"His name is Blake Kinsey."

"You're kidding, right," Chad asked. "Kinsey who lives in that beat-up old Greene and Greene house?"

"Yes. You have a problem with that," Emma asked as she eyeballed Chad's girlfriend who ignored everyone as she cooed to her precious rat-dog while he licked the butter off a dinner roll from Bianca's plate.

"Well, there's the fact that he got fired from the local police department. Now he works as a bouncer at some night club uptown," Chad said. "Then there's the curse—"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Just some nonsense about the 'bedroom habits' of the brothers. Probably a bunch of hooey if you ask me." She wasn't about to discuss the Kinseys' supposed sex issues in front of her parents.

"It's a disgrace," her mother said. "Four grown men, never married, living alone in that old house."

"Mom, please, don't start," Emma pleaded.

"The Historical Society should evict them on the grounds of neglect."

"Talk about a house full of lo-sers," Chad muttered.

"Geez. You two make them sound like a bunch of tobacco spitting, shotgun toting hillbillies," she said. "They own the house. It's their business what they do with it."

"I just think you should reconsider your choice of men, that's all," he said.

Yeah, and your girlfriend has the IQ of a dung beetle.

"Stay away from those boys," her mother said.

"Why? They seem like okay guys." Emma was really starting to feel defensive. She had her own reservation about Blake, and she certainly wasn't going to give her family even a flicker of doubt about him.

But then she remembered how he looked at her—the way those devastating eyes caught her through the window...

Well, duh! She was naked for heaven sakes.

It was really stupid of her not to check the blinds before she did her nudie vacuuming routine. But Emma wasn't entirely sure she was sorry for the faux pas. She wasn't an exhibitionist by any means, but the heat in Blake's eyes as he watched was so powerfully magnetic. Oh, and then the way he felt against her skin, all hard and male. It had been too long since she'd felt a man against her.

Chad leaned closer to Emma to whisper in her ear. "If you date one of them, you can say adios to your love life. Word has it they're as flaccid as overcooked noodles."

Agh, she really didn't want to have this conversation with her overprotective brother. "Well, maybe sex isn't as high a priority like it is to some oversexed bullies."

"Brat." Chad squinted his eyes at her and tweaked her nose as if she was still nine.

"My I use your bathroom?" Bianca asked. Truffles was cradled in her arms like a baby.

"Sure. First door down the hall."

"Thanks." The dog went with her.

"Gee Chad," Emma teased, "Does she take the dog to bed with you too?" ~

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