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Well, either that or he really wants that fucking Bugatti.

“Should we take a glass of wine with us?” Violet’s lips twitch. “Get a little girl time?”

Oh, she’s good.

Because that’s too much for my mom to resist.

Her face lights up and she hurries from the room, Evelyn trailing her into the kitchen. “I’ll just grab a bottle and some glasses.”

My gaze is on their disappearing forms when Violet speaks again, proving exactly how skilled she is at handling PITAs. “Oh, I forgot. Steve?”

My dad returns his glare to her and it’s as though he’s grinning for how much that scowl touches her (that’s to say, not at all). “If I remember correctly, Hugo is interested in World War Two history.” She pauses and glances at Hugo, who nods. “I bet he would love to see that pistol you were showing me the other night, the one you found at a garage sale? What was it called again? A Luigi?”

See?

She’s good.

Even as she’s laying it on think, glancing at the ceiling and tapping her chin. “No, a Lamborghini? A Linguini?”

Beck and Lex both snort this time, but Hugo doesn’t clock that for once.

Instead, he’s eager as he turns to my dad and asks, “You found a Luger at a garage sale?”

“Yup.” My dad pushes to his feet. “A Luger P08,” he says proudly. “It’s in my office. I have loads of WWII memorabilia. I’ll go grab it.”

“I’ll come with you,” Hugo says. “What else do you have?”

“A Colt, but it’s not in great shape…”

Vi tilts her head toward where my dad and Hugo are disappearing down the hall, silently telling me to follow (and provide necessary interference) before she turns and does some following of her own, trailing after Evelyn and my mom, who now has a bottle of wine and one glasses in her hands while Evelyn carries the other two.

“My roses take a lot of work,” I hear my mom say. “But they always win first place at the fair.”

* * *

“Thanks for sharing your family with us, son,” Hugo says, standing in the lobby of the nicest hotel in town. Nice for my hometown or not, I know it’s nowhere near what the Laurents are used to.

Though, strangely, they don’t seem to mind.

Same as they don’t seem to mind my family.

After the rough start—and after Vi skillfully separated my parents—things actually went well.

Conversations were had, my brothers behaved (mostly), slices of my mom’s famous double chocolate cake were devoured, and eventually it came time to bring Hugo and Evelyn home.

Now we’re here, conducting semi-awkward goodbyes.

“I’m glad you guys could come out and meet everyone,” I lie.

“Me too,” he says easily. But he’s looking at me closely again.

Okay. Well, I’d love for this conversation to be over. “Do you need a ride to the venue tomorrow?”

Hugo shakes his head. “No. We’ll pick up a car tomorrow.”

I nod…then run out of things to say.

Hugo doesn’t. “I know the timing of our visit isn’t ideal, and it’s really too kind of Oakes and Jenny to welcome us at their wedding.” He nods at his wife, who’s standing a few feet away, chatting with Vi. “Evelyn loves weddings, so she couldn’t resist imposing even though I wouldn’t have.”