I squeeze his fingers tighter into mine. It’s such a simple touch, holding hands. Little kids do it. It’s the first step into affection with someone when we are young, to hold their hand in yours. At our ages, this sort of gesture should not hold so much meaning. Most couples our age go straight to wild kisses and directly to bed. Our courtship breathes slowness. It hides in the dark corners. It peeks out with tiny touches, explodes with quick erotic moments, then runs back to hide. It is both sweet and dirty, and it’s taboo.

“I should probably tell you about my parents,” he says.

“Oh?” My nerves stand at attention and my stomach starts to burn a bit.

He takes a visible deep breath. “My father is Ronnie Vale. My uncle is Vince Vale. My mother is Aria Valentine.”

My stomach seizes at the names. He has to be joking. “Storm, please tell me you’re kidding?”

He shakes his head and grins at me sideways. “I’m totally serious.”

“Ronnie and Vince Vale the musicians from the seventies? And famous romance author Aria Valentine?”

“Yup.”

I can’t believe he hasn’t told me this. These people are pretty much household names. I remember my parents listening to the music of the Vale’s on long car rides. Those songs still played on the radio and were on all sorts of Songs of the 70’s albums. I have read almost all of Aria Valentine’s novels and seen most of the movies on cable based on her books. Of course, the movies were never as good as the books, but I still watched them just to see her sexy love-struck characters come to life.

“How could you not tell me this? You can’t just let me walk into a house of famous people, Storm. I don’t belong there.”

He squeezes my hand harder so I can’t let go. “Evie, one of the things I really like about you is you don’t give a shit about money and fame. You don’t look at it as an opportunity to get something. Like right now. You’re not jumping up and down getting all excited to meet famous people. You want to go back home. I can hear it in your voice. You don’t give a rat’s ass who I am. I had to beg you to agree to come to my show next week, and I think you’re only doing that because your dickwad boyfriend is a fan.” He pauses to make a turn. “I don’t want to be with a star chaser, and I don’t bring them near my family. When I’m offstage or with my family, we’re just normal fucking people. We don’t want to be ‘on.’ You’re the first girl I’ve brought home in about twelve years.”

“I’m the wrong girl to be bringing home, Storm. I have a boyfriend. What will they think of me? You finally bring a girl home and she’s living with another man? I can’t do this.”

“Evie, don’t get yourself all whacked out. They know who you are. They know you’re not a girlfriend and that we’re just friends. For now.” He looks over at me and winks. I shake my head at him. I’m not sure I can do this. His mother will think I’m a hussy. Living with another man and spending Christmas with her son. I’ll probably end up in one of her novels as the stupid character who can’t get her shit together and just whines all the time and wallows between two men until they both dump her ass.

“Stop it, Evelyn. Clear your mind of the shit, okay?” He pulls my hand over and places a quick kiss on the top of my fingers, a gesture that melts me every time. “We’re going to have a good time. No one is judging anyone. My family is cool. None of us are perfect. My parents are like fucking hippies. They’re not rich snobs like you see on television. I wouldn’t bring you there if they were like that and subject you to that kind of crap.”

I feel myself getting deeper and deeper into him. I know he is doing this on purpose to try to get me to leave Michael. Every time Michael fails, Storm is there to make it all better. But even I know someday, Storm will fail, too.

Chapter Thirteen

Gram’s house is a beautiful sprawling ranch-style in the shape of an ‘L.’ The trees and bushes out front are decorated in pale blue lights, and white lanterns line the driveway and walkway. It’s pretty and welcoming, just as Storm described on the ride up. I wished I had baked cookies or a pie, or brought a bottle of wine with me. Something. I hope his family doesn’t perceive me as some ungrateful tart crashing their family dinner with not even enough manners to bring a thank-you offering. I cringe at what my mom would think. She raised me better than this.

Storm opens the passenger side door and takes my hand to help me out of his truck. We watch Niko run around the yard for a few minutes before heading for the front door, where he turns to bestow his most irresistible smile upon me. “Don’t be nervous, baby. This is home for me. If... and yes, I’m fucking saying if, we are ever together, we would spend a lot of time here. That’s what I want. I should warn you, though, Gram is itching for a great-grandchild.”

My mouth gapes open at him. “Dude, I am in no way ready to discuss babies.”

“Don’t call me dude. And neither am I. But someday, maybe...” He quirks his eyebrow up at me.

At that moment, the door opens and a tiny, gray-haired woman is standing there. And I mean even shorter than I am, putting her at under five feet tall. She is simply adorable, and she is beaming at us.

“Come in, come in!” Niko rushes in past us and sits expectantly at Gram’s feet as we enter the foyer and close the door behind us. She hands the dog a big Santa-shaped cookie. “Now, go find your bone and be a good boy.”

She turns to us. “You must be Evelyn!” She grabs my hands. “I’ve heard so much about you, honey! I’m so glad you’re here! Storm talks about you nonstop—”

“Gram!” Storm interrupts, but he’s smiling ear to ear. He leans down and kisses her on the cheek. “She doesn’t need to hear all that.”

“Of course, she does, dear!” She takes my hand again. “Come into the kitchen and meet everyone!” I glance back at Storm as Gram leads us to the kitchen. He smiles and winks at me.

The house is gorgeous, but decorated very comfortable and lived-in. The kitchen is modern and monstrous with a large island in the middle. A small group of people are laughing at the table in the corner, and Gram gently pulls me over. They all look up and smile at us.

Storm steps up beside me. “Hey, you guys, I want you to meet Evelyn. Evie, this is my dad Ronnie, my mom Aria, and my little sister Rayne.” Storm and Rayne. I love it.

They all smile and say hello at the same time.

“Thank you so much for having me... it’s wonderful to meet all of you.” Thank God, my voice didn’t crack as it usually does when I’m nervous.

They stand up for a proper greeting and take turns hugging us. “Evelyn, we’re delighted to finally meet you,” Aria Valentine says, kissing my cheek. The woman is gorgeous. Tall with long wavy hair, beautiful skin, and emerald green eyes like a cat. I can see so much of Storm in her.

I, of course, recognize Ronnie Vale, Storm’s father, as I’ve seen him on television at least a hundred times. He is tall, handsome, and well built. His graying hair is longish and tied in a neat ponytail at the base of his skull. He hugs me then looks me up and down quickly. “Storm, you weren’t kidding when you said she was gorgeous.”

Oh, my God. I feel myself blushing. Storm shrugs.

“Daddy, you’re embarrassing her!” Rayne pipes up, rolling her eyes. She is also beautiful like her mother, and very petite. Her hair is dyed jet black with purple highlights. She’s wearing an over-sized sweatshirt with the neck cut out, a purple tank top layered beneath, and skinny jeans with holes in the knees. Even dressed casual, she has a sense of cool style about her. I wonder if she’s also a musician of some sort. She definitely has that look going on.

We all move into the living room where a roaring fire is lit in a stone fireplace in the corner. I sit in a big soft chair near the fire and Storm sits on the floor in front of me, leaning against the front of my chair, his arm against my leg. I take in my surroundings. A huge Christmas tree stands in the corner, nearly reaching the high vaulted ceiling. It’s decorated with beautiful glass ornaments and pastel lights. A heap of wrapped presents are piled beneath it. Niko is laying a few feet away from the tree, gnawing on a bone that is about three feet long and has a red bow tied at the end of it.

A spread of fresh fruit, truffles, crackers, and cheese are set out on the coffee table. Everything looks too beautiful to even eat. Storm’s parents are sitting on the loveseat opposite us, his father’s arm around his mother, her leaning her head into his shoulder and smiling over at us. I remember Storm telling me during the blizzard that his parents shared true love, and he was right. You can just feel the love between them with their shared smiles and closeness.

Rayne is sitting on the floor in front of the fire, her legs tucked under her Indian style. “I think the way you guys met is awesome,” she says. “I mean, like who the hell gets trapped in a truck for two days! It’s epic! Mom, you should totally write this into one of your books.”

“No, she shouldn’t,” Storm says, playfully kicking his sister.

Aria smiles warmly. “Some things are meant to be private, Rayne. Storm doesn’t want his love life showing up in a book any more than you do.”

Love life? What?

Storm hands me a cookie from the table and continues on with his sister. “Trust me, it wasn’t fun, kiddo. We fucking froze our asses off.”

“You really didn’t know who he was?” she asks me.

I shake my head and swallow my chocolate chip cookie. “No, I really didn’t. I actually thought he was some kind of psycho murderer. When he first found me, I screamed at him to get away from me.”

“Yeah, and she thought Niko was a wolf. She screamed bloody murder when she saw him,” Storm added.

“Hey, he could be part wolf for all we know,” Ronnie interjected. “He looks bigger every time I see him.”

“Storm, you better make sure he doesn’t steal my slippers again!” Gram yells from the kitchen.