Touched By Midas (SEALs Going Hot Book 4) by Brenna Zinn Page A

Tuesday ended with a nightcap on Angie’s patio and a romp on her living room sofa. Wednesday night they ate Italian food on base at the Pizza Villa near the golf course and caught a movie. When he told her his mother had invited them to dinner at his parents’ home, Angie lit up.
    “Your mom wants to cook? For me?” she asked.
    She seemed so genuinely surprised that A, his mother cooked, and B, the matron of his family wanted Angie to come over for a meal, he couldn’t help but wonder just what kind of a mother she had grown up with. Considering she didn’t talk much about her family, he could only imagine what they must be like. Was she abused or neglected as a child? Were her parents a source of embarrassment?
    “Your mom doesn’t cook much, huh?”
    She rolled her eyes. “Not on your life. Her version of cooking includes mixing protein powder with soy milk, which was probably for the best. I’m not sure she could even boil a hot dog if her life depended on it.”
    “So you don’t mind spending more time with my family? They can be a little rowdy.”
    “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss spending time with them for the world. As you already know,” she playfully nudged him, “I had the best date of my life at the fair. Your family is so much fun and have made me feel so welcome.” She thought for a moment and then asked, “Will your sisters and their families be there, too?”
    “When my mom makes her famous garlic chicken, everyone in the family comes over. It’s a food fest of gigantic proportions. Just watch your fingers. Once the food starts flying, I can’t be held responsible for bitten body parts or fights for seconds.”
    Thursday evening, they walked the five miles from his house to his parents’ place along the beach. Carrying their shoes, they leisurely strolled barefoot through the warm sand and talked non-stop about anything and everything. When the raucous sounds of children playing and his sisters shouting for them to behave could be heard on the wind, Midas stopped.
    “It’s not too late. We can turn around right now if you want. I can open a bottle of wine and a package of cheese back at my place. We could sit on the beach and eat like heathens until we can’t take another bite.”
    Angie laughed her soft laugh while a breeze from the surf blew her hair all around her beautiful face. She transferred her sandals to one hand and grabbed his arm before yanking him along.
    “Come on, you big wuss. I thought SEALs were supposed to be bad ass.”
    He stumbled forward, making a show of his skepticism. “Okay, but don’t blame me if the kids at school start calling you Ms. Eight Fingers.”
    They hadn’t taken more than a few steps when four young boys ran down a path through some flowering oleander bushes onto the beach. When his nephews sighted Midas, they made a beeline straight to him. The wild pack tackled him to the sandy ground.
    “Help! I’m outnumbered,” Midas pleaded before beginning an assault of tickles on the oldest of the boys. The other three piled on his back.
    “Not on your life. I’m going to the food before the frenzy hits.”
    Through the barrage of elbows, scuffed knees, and small bodies, he watched as his sisters met Angie and drew her into their mix. His heart lurched. She fit into his family, his life, so well.
    Too well.
    What the fuck was he doing?
    More importantly, why wasn’t he stopping himself?

Chapter Eight
    If the warm reception from Midas’ sisters hadn’t made her feel completely welcome, the engulfing embrace and kiss from his mother certainly had. The plump older woman then filled Angie’s hands with a large bowl of steaming vegetables and directed her toward one of the two long tables in the backyard.
    And just like that, Angie was caught up in the flow of the SEAL’s family, laughing and joking with his sisters, their husbands, and his parents as they prepared to eat. When the tables were set and all the food was laid out, she sat in one