“Mom?” She walked into the room and Gwen immediately saw the resemblance between brother and sister. She doubted Lock and his sister had many “You two are related?” moments like Gwen and Mitch did.

“Hello, dear. What are you doing here so late?”

“I came to pick up the…” Her words faded away when she saw Gwen sitting at the table. Her nostrils twitched and flared and her eyes immediately went to her children, her body tensing.

“Stop it, Iona,” Alla warned while she put more honey chicken with cashews on her plate. The woman had an appetite like Mitch and Brendon put together.

“Iona, this is Gwen O’Neill,” Lock said. “Gwen, this is my sister Iona MacRyrie-Phillips.” There certainly was a lot of hyphenating in this family.

“Hi.”

Her gaze examined Gwen carefully before she finally replied, “Hello.”

“She’s our plumber,” Brody said with an interesting amount of cheer. He returned to his chair and sat, pulling one of the children, a girl, onto his lap.

“Inviting plumbers to dinner now?” the sow asked.

Relaxing back in her chair, Gwen replied, “I’m so good at what I do, I always get a meal afterward. And sometimes, flowers.”

Lock choked on his milk while Brody agreed, “She did an excellent job, dear. We have a new water heater now. A waterless water heater. I plan to examine it tomorrow.”

“No!” his entire family said, making him jump.

Even the granddaughter on his lap looked up into his face and said with the solemn wisdom of a four-year-old, “Don’t, Grandpa.”

“This is a really nice table,” Gwen said after Iona and Alla went into the kitchen to retrieve old family flatware for one of Iona’s exclusive doctor-only parties. And yeah, Lock specifically did not mention to Gwen that his sister was one of those evil “organ thieves.” Not with the evening going so well and all.

Gwen tapped the table. “Where did you get it?” She leaned down to examine the underside. “Was it expensive?”

Lock glanced at his father who quickly shrugged and muttered, “I didn’t say anything.”

“Didn’t say anything about what?” Gwen asked.

“Why are you asking about the table?” Lock demanded, wondering what she was up to.

“Because it’s nice and one day I’ll need furniture.”

Brody sat up. “Well, then—”

“Dad.”

Gwen glanced back and forth between them. “What?”

“Nothing,” Lock said. “The table was made for my parents,” which wasn’t a lie.

“Oh.” She pouted a little. “This would probably be out of my price range then.”

Brody threw his napkin down. “Yes, but—”

“Dad,” Lock cut in again, scowling in warning at his father.

Gwen watched them closely. “What is wrong withyou two?”

The MacRyrie men gave identical shrugs and answered together, “Nothing.”

Gwen said good-bye to the MacRyries, giving them her personal cell phone number in case they had any problems with their new heater. As she walked back to her truck, Lock walked beside her.

“I’m sorry we kept you out so late,” he said.

“No problem. I had a really good time.”

“Sure you don’t want me to follow you back to the city?”

She laughed. “Yeah. Right. I don’t know how I survived this long without you shadowing me.”

Gwen unlocked her truck door and pulled it open.

“So, Gwen…you want to go out sometime?”

And there it was.

She faced him, the open truck cab to her back. He had his hands in his pockets and his eyes focused on the bushes behind her head. He was shy and adorable and wouldn’t last ten seconds with her or her family. Sure, in a physical fight and if they snuck up on him, startling him into a violent reaction, he could take Gwen’s uncles and Mitch. But in the verbal duels that represented O’Neill get-togethers? Not two seconds. He got weird when she asked questions about his parents’ dining table and couldn’t even look her in the eye when he asked her out.

“Thanks, Lock, but no.” See? Much better to let him down now, then crush him later when he got attached to the unattachable. “It’s nothing personal, though,” she added.

He laughed, now looking her in the eyes. “Yeah, being turned down for a date is always not personal.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Not really.” But he was smiling and there didn’t seem to be any bitterness or anger. She appreciated that and, to her way of thinking, it said a lot about him as a man.

“I had a great time tonight. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”

“Okay.”

Hmm. Maybe he was taking it too well. Couldn’t he even put up a little fight for her? Jeez. She was glad she hadn’t wasted her time.

She got into her truck, and Lock closed the door for her. He leaned into the open window, looking around at everything, as curious as his father, if not as grabby about it.

Gwen started the truck and put on her seat belt.

“You’ve got the check, right?”

“Yup. Thanks.” She adored prompt payers.

“Okay. See ya.”

“Yeah.” She turned her head to say good-bye and then his mouth was there, on hers.

It was…strange. His lips…they…uh…she didn’t know. But as strange as his lips felt on hers, they also felt wonderful. Amazing wonderful. And instead of pulling back, horrified by the awkward moment or freaked out by his strange lips, she ended up kissing him back. She leaned into that kiss, her mouth opening under his, tongue pressing inside until she felt inundated with the taste of Chinese honey chicken.