Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)(51)

I grinned, accepting the compliment. “Thanks.”

He kept his eyes on me as I approached him, and it was all I could do to keep my cheeks from flaming. Damn. I’d been on my fair share of dates during high school, and I’d never felt this girly around any guy before.

On our way out of the store, we passed by another three-way mirror and Navan held out a hand, stopping us in front of it.

“Would you look at us,” he said, putting an arm around me and causing my breath to involuntarily hitch. “Not too bad on the eyes at all... You ready to go impress the pants off your parents?”

“Um . . . I hope they’re not that impressed that they lose their pants. I’d very much like to avoid that, actually, at all costs.”

He chuckled and kept his arm around me as we walked out of the store, and I doubted he realized the effect it had on me. My face felt thoroughly red by the time I hailed a taxi and directed it to Jean and Roger’s neighborhood.

Once we were sitting, I returned my thoughts to the task at hand. Until now, I hadn’t been feeling that nervous about this first task of the day. Navan was clearly in a calm mood, and I reminded myself that he could handle it, especially since we were not planning to stay for long, anyway. I’d told my parents we had plans with Navan’s brother who lived in the city. Still, my palms were sweating as we arrived at my adoptive parents’ street, and we approached our modest, three-bedroom house. It felt like everything had changed so much since I had last been here, my entire world spun out of control. It was going to be hard to act like nothing had happened.

I stopped at the porch and drew in a deep breath. I glanced at Navan. His expression was calm, almost contemplative, and I realized that if anyone had the right to be nervous about this, it was him. I grabbed a hold of that thought and tried to infuse some of that calmness into myself, right as Sally, our Labrador, started barking.

“Riley!” Jean must’ve been waiting right by the door, because it swung open and there was her thin face, breaking out into a smile, her crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of her warm brown eyes. But as they fell on Navan, I could see the tension brewing behind them. Her eyes widened as she took in his imposing form, the image she’d had in her head of who I might’ve run off with was evidently very different from the man who stood before her.

I had to hide my smile as Roger appeared behind her, his blue eyes bulging, too, and his red-bearded face assuming an almost identical expression to Jean’s. Roger was by no means short at almost six feet, but even he had to tilt his head slightly to look Navan in the eye.

“And this would be Navan?” Jean managed, and I nodded, suppressing a smile.

“The dashing boyfriend that swept Riley away,” Navan replied, and he gave a warm smile, the hard lines of his face softening. “That would be me. I apologize if I caused you any distress. It’s an honor to meet you.” His smooth, polite tone was at odds with his rugged appearance, and I could see from my parents’ faces that they were pleasantly surprised. He also spoke with a neutral American accent, like we had discussed—so as to avoid questions about which country he was from, as his regular accent was clearly not American. It wasn’t the best impersonation, but it was passable.

“Come in, come in,” Jean said, stepping back with a smile to allow us in. Navan had to duck his head under the doorway to avoid bashing it as he entered, and we left our shoes by the door.

“Again, I’m so sorry for scaring you guys,” I said as we moved through the house, dodging Sally, who rushed up to Navan and started sniffing him.

“Well, the main thing is you’re safe and happy,” Jean replied, though there was still a note of uncertainty in her voice.

We entered the dining room, which looked out onto our small garden. Navan and I sat next to each other on one side of the table, while Jean positioned two chairs on the other. There was an awkward silence as my two adoptive parents gazed at us. Then Jean announced, “I’ll bring in the brunch!”

“So,” Roger said, fixing Navan with a half-friendly, half-wary look. “Where are you from, Navan?”

“Born and bred in Austin,” he replied genially.

“Navan works in renovation,” I explained. “He’s been doing some work on the plot of land next to the Churnleys’.”

Jean reentered with a tray of tea, coffee, and snacks, and I helped myself to an herbal, decaffeinated tea bag instinctively, the silver root incident still fresh in my mind. Navan went for a coffee, and I was genuinely curious to watch his reaction to the warm drink. I wasn’t sure if he’d tasted it before.

“How did you and Riley meet?” Jean asked.

“Well,” Navan began in a confident, almost theatrical tone, “it was a blisteringly hot day and for unknown reasons, I thought that might be a good time to chop some wood. I must’ve been complaining a bit loudly about it, because the next thing I knew, Riley’s there, wanting to know if everything’s all right. Apparently, she and her friends had been out doing some work in the Churnleys’ garden, and she could hear me all the way across the field.”

Jean beamed at me. “That’s our girl,” she said. “Riley has a good heart, as I’m sure you know. She’s always concerned about the well-being of others.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Navan replied, and he made a big show of reaching over and squeezing my hand. “She sure is something.”