Page 82 of Merry with Me
“Stop.” I laugh. “Let’s go before you get any more crazy ideas.”
He points at me, and I know that means I’m supposed to stay in my seat so he can open the door for me. I let him have this again, certain he wants to make a good impression on my parents. What he doesn’t realize is that he’s already done that. My smile is all they need to know about how this man treats me.
He opens my door, offers me his hand, and together we make our way up the steps. I don't bother knocking, even though my parents aren’t expecting me. “Family! I’m home!” I call out. We left our gifts in the car. We’ll exchange once we make it to Kincaid Central with the rest of the family.
“You don’t live here anymore,” Beckham calls back.
“Merry Christmas to you too, little brother!” I shout.
“Blake!” Brooklyn rushes into the foyer to greet me. “Who are you?”
“Brooke, you remember Oliver.”
“He’s holding your hand.”
I chuckle. “He is. Where are Mom and Dad?”
“In the living room.” She takes off, racing toward the living room. “She’s got a boy with her.”
“A boy?” Oliver chuckles as I lead us into the living room.
“Hey.” I smile at my family. “You all remember Oliver.” I turn to grin at him. “Oliver, you remember my family, right?” I never thought this moment would happen for us, yet here we are.
“It’s nice to see you all again,” Oliver greets them.
I raise our entwined hands in the air for all to see. “Oliver and I are dating.”
“I told you!” Dad says, smiling at Mom.
“You were right, sweetheart,” Mom says to pacify him. “Have a seat,” Mom tells us.
I move to the love seat and sit. Oliver does the same, taking the seat next to me, not once letting go of my hand.
“How long has this been going on?” Dad asks.
“Officially, last night. Dating unofficially, a while.” I shrug.
“What are your intentions with my sister?” Beckham asks.
“Beck!” Mom scolds him.
“What? Blake’s never brought a guy home. I’m her brother. It’s my right to ask.”
“Son, I think that’s my job.” Dad smiles proudly.
“Well, you were taking too long.” Beckham turns back to Oliver. “Well?”
“I’m in love with your sister.” He looks at my parents. “With your daughter.”
“And your intentions?” Beckham asks, crossing his arms over his chest, giving Oliver his best protective-brother glare.
“When she’s ready, I want to marry her.”
The room falls quiet, which I didn’t think was possible.
“Does that mean you’ll make me an aunt?” Brooklyn asks.
Oliver glances over at me, and I smile at him. “She said we’d start with two and go from there,” he answers honestly.