Virtuous(86)

“Join us for dinner?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll be right in.”

Keeping his hand on my back, Flynn doesn’t appear to notice all the people who notice him as we make our way through the dining room. “My parents had their first date here. It’s been their place ever since. Every important event in the Godfrey family is celebrated at Frankie’s.”

That they are faithful to their traditions and their friends endears his parents to me before I even meet them.

“Frankie is one of my dad’s best friends. They’ve had a running poker game with a bunch of other guys for fifty years. His wife died a year or so ago, and he hasn’t been doing very well. Dad’s been worried about him.”

“It’ll lift Frankie’s spirits to be with friends.”

“Hope so.” He opens a door to a room full of people, who turn to greet him en masse. A bevy of kids surrounds him, forcing him to let go of my hand. “Whoa! Easy, savages. You’re going to scare off my friend.”

“Unca Flynn, pick me up,” a towheaded blond boy demands.

Unca Flynn does what he’s told, seating the boy on his shoulders. “Natalie, this is Mason. He’s four.”

The little boy holds up four fingers, and I fall in love with his adorable little face. The sight of Flynn holding him on his shoulders does crazy things to my insides. He’ll make a wonderful father someday. Yikes! Where did that thought come from?

Before I can process the odd direction my brain has taken, we’re surrounded by gorgeous women, all of whom are tall, fair and athletic looking. None of them looks like their brother.

“Natalie, these savages are my sisters—Aimee, Ellie and Annie. Ladies, this is Natalie. Try not to be yourselves and scare her off.”

“Shut up, Flynn, and get out of our way,” Annie says.

Each of them hugs me and welcomes me, and one of them—it might be Ellie—asks what a nice girl like me is doing with an * like Flynn.

“Nice, El,” Flynn says with a laugh. “Thanks a lot.”

They all talk at once, overwhelming me with questions and excitement and a sense of belonging I hadn’t expected to feel with them.

“Ladies,” a stern female voice says from behind them. “Back off and let me say hello to Natalie.”

They step aside, and there is Estelle Flynn, and my brain goes completely blank as she approaches me.

“Mom, this is Natalie. Nat, my mom, Estelle.”

She embraces me in a cloud of delicious-smelling perfume. “It’s lovely to meet you, Natalie. We’re so glad you could join us tonight.”

I know I should say something, anything, but I’m completely starstruck.

Flynn’s hand on my back steadies me, and I find my voice. “It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Flynn. Thank you for having me.”

“It’s our pleasure, and, please, call me Stella.”

I’m going to faint. Surely I can’t remain standing in the presence of such an amazingly accomplished woman. She’s stunningly gorgeous with pale blonde hair that’s beautifully styled into a coif that highlights her pretty face. I try not to stare at her, but it’s hard not to. She’s magnetic and warm and smiling widely as she hugs her only son.

“So nice to see you, my love.”

“You, too, Mom. Happy anniversary.”

“Thank you for that and for throwing this together.”

“Addie gets all the credit.”

“Yes, I do,” Addie says from where she’s standing with Marlowe.

“Let me see my boy.” His booming voice precedes Max Godfrey as he approaches Flynn and greets him with a bone-crushing hug that Flynn enthusiastically returns. Max is about the same height as Flynn and has a mane of salt-and-pepper hair and Flynn’s gorgeous brown eyes. He’s every bit as good-looking as his son, who closely resembles him. Looking at him is like seeing Flynn in thirty years.

“Hi, Dad.”

Max releases Flynn and places both hands on his face. “You’re looking sort of ugly, boy. What’re they feeding you in New York?”

Since there’s not one single thing about Flynn that’s ugly, I can’t help but laugh at his father’s comment.

“Dad, this is Natalie. Nat, my dad, Max, who never minces words.”

I’m treated to the same sort of hug he gave his son, but not quite as bone crushing. I quickly discover it’s one thing to see pictures of Max Godfrey in magazines. It’s another thing altogether to experience him. I’ve never met anyone more instantly magnetic in my life, except for maybe his son.