“You know, I don’t really need a babysitter or a chauffeur.”

Nick looked down at Bayley’s upturned face, her nose scrunched as they pulled to a stop outside Blaise’s house. “As long as you’re still the one who can identify Johan, you’re in danger. So, we’ve got the Alvarez eyes on you, a Saint most of the time, and I’m your private chauffeur.”

Grinning, she ran a finger down his shirt and purred, “Well, I guess having you as my private chauffeur can have its advantages.”

He grabbed her finger in his hand, stilling her movements. “Don’t start something we can’t finish right now,” he growled with a matching grin.

Laughing, she agreed, “Okay, but raincheck?”

“Oh, yeah. In fact, I’ll collect as soon as we get this dinner with your brother over with.”

Bayley’s smile faltered but before he had a chance to question her on it, the front door open and an attractive, older blonde stepped out onto the porch waving.

“Um, I might have forgotten to mention that my parents will be here as well.”

A band tightened around Nick’s heart for a second, the light from inside the house shining behind Bayley’s mom. He sucked in a deep breath at the idea of the gathering inside.

“We don’t have to do this,” Bayley rushed. “It’s totally okay if we—”

“Shhh,” he admonished. “I’ve got this…we’ve got this. Hey, I was going to meet them sometime anyway.” Leaning over he placed a gentle kiss on her lips before adding, “Wait till I come around.”

Moving around his SUV to her side, he assisted her to the driveway before placing his arm around her shoulders as they made their way toward the front door.

As soon as their feet landed on the porch, Bayley was engulfed in a hug. “Hey, Mom,” she greeted, her eyes dancing.

Nick stood to the side for a few seconds, until Bayley’s mother let go of her daughter and grabbed him in an equally tight hug.

“Oh, Nick, we’ve been dying to meet you. Bayley’s talked my ear off about you this week,” she said, finally stepping back, her smile matching Bayley’s. “I’m Barbara. Barbara Hanssen. Come on in.”

With his hand on the small of her back, Nick leaned down to Bayley’s ear, “You been talking your mom’s ear off about me?”

Blushing, Bayley conceded, “Maybe a little.”

Once inside, Nick’s gaze gratefully met Blaise’s and the two men greeted with a head nod toward each other. Another beautiful woman, long, dark hair pulled away from her face, walked into the room, holding a baby in her arm. She smiled at Nick as she handed the baby to Blaise and moved forward, her hand out to Nick in greeting.

“Nick, I’m Grace, Blaise’s wife. Welcome to our home. We’re so glad you and Bayley could come this evening.”

Taking her small hand in his, he thanked her before lifting his gaze to Blaise, whose attention was riveted on the small child in his arms. Bayley bounded over to her brother, cooing while patting the baby’s back.

A man sitting on the sofa stood and walked toward Nick, extending his hand as well. Tall, muscular, with just a slight bulge around his middle, he appeared to be an older version of Blaise, with his light blond hair slightly grey around the temples. “Good to meet you. I’m Bjorn Hanssen, Bayley’s dad.”

“Sir, nice to meet you too,” Nick replied, the sense of being overwhelmed receding as the warmth of the gathering slid over him. He quickly noted the Nordic heritage between the four Hanssens and, seeing Bayley, now with her arms full of the baby, the thought of their child flitted through his mind. Mentally stumbling at the image, he focused on her as she walked toward him.

“And this is baby Ben,” Bayley whispered as the child’s face scrunched before settling back to slumber.

Nick, unused to babies, stood awkwardly to her side, looking down at the cherubic face, the boy’s downy hair sticking straight up. His tiny, cupid’s bow mouth puckered before twitching into a small smile. Chuckling, Nick lifted his hand and gently touched Ben’s cheek, eliciting another smile from the baby.

“Oh, he likes you,” Bayley cooed, turning her face up toward Nick’s, her eyes alight.

Grace took Ben from Bayley and excused herself so she could place him in his swing. Bayley slid underneath Nick’s shoulder, her hand snaking around his waist.

“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” Barbara announced. “Bayley, will you help me?”

Nick caught Bayley’s wink before she followed her mother out of the room, leaving him with Blaise and their father. Unused to family gatherings, he stood awkwardly for a moment until the other two men started down the hall, inviting him to come to the family room as well. Near the kitchen, Nick followed them into a large room, warmly paneled, with family pictures covering the walls. A navy sofa, with red throw pillows, sat against one wall, facing a large screen TV. A couple of comfortable chairs in a red, patterned material sat against the back wall.

A multitude of baby items scattered across the floor, most unidentifiable to Nick, but the clutter screamed family to him. Little Ben was asleep in a contraption sitting on the floor and Nick watched in fascination as Blaise plopped down on the rug next to his son and gently moved the device side to side in a rocking motion.

Bjorn took the sofa, nodding for Nick to settle in one of the cushioned chairs. He did, noting how his body sunk in the pillows, relishing the comfort it provided. He could hear the women in the kitchen as they talked and laughed in unison, evidence of the relaxed environment. Sighing in content, his attention was snagged as Bjorn spoke.

“I understand my daughter is in some danger?”

Blaise, still on the floor, chuckled. “Way to cut to the chase, Dad.”

Bjorn shook his head, answering, “No reason to beat around the bush.” Shifting his gaze to Nick, he added, “You look, to me, like a man who likes to get down to business.”

Nodding, Nick agreed. “Yes, sir, I do. I don’t know how much Bayley has told you—”

“It’s not what my daughter has told me,” Bjorn interjected, “it’s digging through all the extraneous details she adds in, that makes it hard to discern exactly what the hell is going on.”

Nick battled a grin at the description of Bayley. Clearing his throat, he explained, “She met me one night while I was working…” He suddenly hesitated, unsure what her father knew about his changing career path. “Uh, I was still with the FBI at the time.”

Bjorn, seeming to catch Nick’s reticence, encouraged, “I understand. I know you’ve just joined the Saints.”

“Yes, sir. Well, she talked to me that night and was taking a lot of selfies, or rather shots of the nightclub for her research. Unfortunately, someone was there who didn’t want their picture taken.” Seeing Bjorn’s hard expression, he hastened to add, “She was able to identify the person who approached her the next night, but he has not been caught. Between me, the Saints, and another security firm, we’ve got her covered around the clock.”

“How the hell that girl gets herself in these messes—”

“Dad! Stop telling stories on me,” Bayley cried from the kitchen.

Nick, surprised, looked first to Blaise and then to Bjorn, as Bayley continued to mumble from the other room.

Bjorn, ignoring his daughter, continued, “She had some freaky fan stalking her on Facebook for a while last year, until Blaise set him straight. Then there was the model she used on the front of a book cover and damned if that son of a bitch didn’t start sending her flowers and shit, wanting to have a relationship with her.”

Blaise, still rocking his son, looked up and added, “Don’t forget about that elderly neighbor she had that left notes about how he was now on Viagra so she and he could date.”

Nick’s eyes widened but before he responded, Bayley rushed into the room, a dishtowel draped over her shoulder. Planting her hands on her hips, she glared at her father and brother. “Stop right now,” she demanded. “You’re going to have Nick thinking there’s something wrong with me!”

Unable to contain his mirth, Nick threw his head back in laughter, then “umphed” as she plopped down in his lap. Wrapping his arms around her waist, his gaze landed on her bright eyes as she leaned in close, her hands clasping around his neck.

“Don’t believe them. Those were isolated incidents that were nothing more than an inconvenience.”

“Hell, girl, you end up in the strangest situations,” Bjorn continued, before clamping his mouth shut as Barbara walked into the room shooting him a warning look. “Fine,” he mumbled. Looking back at Nick, he said, “Just tell me that you and Blaise have got her.”

“Sir, I promise,” Nick vowed. “I would protect her with my life.”

The others smiled in response to his declaration but Bayley sobered, hoping the words would not come true.

Grigory walked into the opulent room noting his brother’s face. “What’s wrong with you?”

Lazlo, leaning back in a dark, burgundy, leather chair, a cut glass tumbler in his hand, grimaced. With a quick shake of his head, he bit out, “Nothing. Leave it.” The quiet of the evening penetrated his grim thoughts and he looked over, where Grigory had sat in a matching chair opposite of him, staring. Shooting a glance toward the door, he asked, “Where’re Mama and Papa?”

“Upstairs.”

Nodding, Lazlo, said, “It’s that girl.” Seeing Grigory’s unspoken question written on his face, he added, “That bookstore girl.”

“Oh, the one you’ve taken out—”

“No, the one Johan approached. I knew we shouldn’t have sent him. He’s gotten too old to trust with a job like that. One that should have been handled with finesse.”

“And you would be the one to have applied just the right finesse?” Grigory smiled.

“Yes,” Lazlo bit out, his lips pursed. “She’s different.”

“You like her? You’re used to taking your fill of the women who have no choice. You think you have a chance with an independent woman like her?”

“So what? It’s not a crime to be interested in someone,” Lazlo retorted in defense. “You’re getting ready to settle down.”

Grigory pierced his brother with a stare. “Seriously? You’re comparing the two? Portia is from one of us. Her family is subservient to us. That shop owner—who, I might add, is now dating that agent—is hardly one of us.”

Grigory stood, pouring a drink into a tumbler before sitting back down. “Forget her. She was never meant for you. Let Father handle Johan and you just see if you can romance information from the counter girl you’ve got on a string.”

The two brothers sat quietly, not noticing Agnes standing just outside the door.

“I’m so impressed. You know Mom doesn’t make her Norwegian Almond Cake for just anyone! I mean, she says she didn’t even make it for Dad until their third date and here you get it the first time she meets you. Of course, she might have held off for Dad since he used to brag about his mom’s cooking. Could have given my Mom a complex or something.”

Driving home, Bayley talked incessantly, her conversation bouncing between her nephew, her latest novel, her shop, and the dessert they just had. The grin on Nick’s face had remained for hours, unable to remember the last time he had had such a good time.

“What did Dad say to you as we were leaving? You know, when I was off saying goodbye to Mom?”

Looking to the side, he asked, “Can’t a man have a secret?”

“Nope, not when it’s about the person in your life and her dad is the one doing the talking.” Seeing his lifted eyebrow, she rushed, “And I’m pretty sure that’s a relationship written rule somewhere.”

Chuckling, Nick repeated, “A relationship written rule?”

“Stop evading the question,” she complained.

“To keep you from having a conniption fit, I’ll tell you. Your dad said that he was glad that I had joined your brother with the Saints.”

Bayley’s face fell as she slumped back in her seat. “Oh,” she mumbled.

“And…”

“I knew it!” she said, her face resuming its former smile. “What else did he say?”

“He wished us a pleasant evening.”

“You are so full of it,” she groused. “I know he said something about us.”

Nodding, he said, “You’re right. I’ll stop teasing. He said that he was proud to have me dating his daughter and that his sentiments had nothing to do with keeping you safe.”

A satisfied expression crossed her face as she turned to face him. “That’s so sweet. I knew my parents would like you.” Reaching over to link her fingers with his, she added, “I’m so glad you were comfortable with my family. I was afraid it might be overwhelming.”

Walking into his apartment a few minutes later, Nick thought back to Blaise’s home in comparison. Blaise and Grace’s den no longer seemed chaotic as flashes of his former foster home returned, the warmth from laughter, smiles, conversation, and playtime filling his mind. His own staid apartment now seemed bare and cold. Looking down at Bayley’s upturned face, her eyes alight and her smile wide, he realized he wanted a real home…with her.