“I had that coming,” Ophelia admitted. “That was your one free shot.”
“Oh, hell, no, Missy, you must be losing your mind if you think that’s the last of it. There will be multiple shots. I’m going to give you a twenty-one-damn-gun salute. If you’re going to be dating my boy, there are going to be rules and family dinners on Sundays. Every holiday will be celebrated at my house. You can start your own traditions when I’m dead. And there will be lots and lots of digs about how you’re not good enough for him.”
“I think a cold chill just dislodged a disc in my spine,” Gabriel muttered, shivering.
“Sort of makes you rethink that whole eternity-together thing, huh?” Jamie said, lifting Ophelia from the ground.
“You don’t know what you’ve brought down on yourself, Cookie.” I pointed my finger in her face and then turned on Jamie. “And how do you feel about all this?”
“Well, at first, I was wicked pissed,” he said, glaring down at her without any real heat. She actually looked contrite, but it passed quickly. “But the bad part’s over, right? What’s done is done. And Georgie’s apologized. She feels just terrible about it. Besides, it was kind of cool to hear Ophelia tell me about the whole stalking-me thing. I’ve never had a girl go to quite those lengths to get my attention.”
“Yes, she’s a regular bunny boiler.”
“Are the nicknames going to stop soon?” Ophelia asked.
“No, condescending nicknames that imply that I can’t remember your real name are all part of the bitchy in-law package,” I told her. “And no, Jamie, for right now, I don’t think you should move out. I’d be more comfortable if you stayed with me. It’s not right for you two to live together right now.”
Jamie shouted, “What? You lived with Gabriel before you were married!”
“This has nothing to do with marital status,” I said calmly. “This has to do with your emotional maturity. And the fact that she was indirectly responsible for you being run down with a car, which implies a certain disregard for personal safety. I’m going to have to insist that you stay with me for at least another year or until you can give me a well-thought-out plan on your living arrangements, including how you plan to integrate Georgie into your life together.”
“Can she do that?” Jamie demanded.
Ophelia nodded hesitantly. “It’s within her rights as your sire,” she said, her tone quickly becoming acidic. “Though she should realize that Georgie is none of her business, and she would be wise to leave my sister out of future arguments about our relationship. Driving incidents aside, I have never neglected my sister, and I won’t start now.”
“Good, you can bring her to Christmas dinner. We’ll take a big family photo involving ugly holiday sweaters.”
“Augh!” Jamie groaned. “That is so lame!”
“Well, that’s me, Jane, Queen of Lame. And I’m only putting you through this embarrassment and hardship because I love you.”
There was genuine delight in his smile when he heard this. He hugged me, and I felt the depth of his gratitude and affection like a humming melody from his brain. His face shifted into an expression of crafty nonchalance. “Do you love me enough to let me borrow your truck to take Ophelia to the drive-in?”
I tsked, kissed his cheek, and gave him a bone-crushing hug. “Not on your life.”
“Again with the lame.” His face fell. “Come on, Phelia, let’s go upstairs.”
“Keep the door open!” I called as they ascended the steps. Gabriel winced as Jamie slammed his bedroom door shut. “Maybe we should have stayed in England.”
I shot him an amused look, wrapped my fingers around the back of his neck, and pulled him in for a kiss. “Nah, it’s good to be home.”