Outfoxed (The Fox Witch #1) - R.J. Blain Page 0,117

father ordered.

“Are you the idiot, jerk, asshole, or whiner?” As he’d done to me, I looked him over from head to toe, and both me and my fox determined we preferred Sandro.

Francis sighed. “I’m the idiot.”

“Well named.” I headed for one of the unoccupied armchairs and sat. “The jerk?”

One of the other young men raised his hand. “I’m also aptly named, but I’m usually only a jerk to people who deserve it. Francis is the idiot because he tends to put his foot in his mouth without realizing it. My name is technically Liam.” Liam pointed at the small child attached to his father. “He’s Michael, and the only reason he’s the pest is because he gets cranky when someone isn’t keeping him company. He’s an extrovert.”

Most of Sandro’s family made a show of shuddering.

“If you think I’m going to believe any of you are introverts, you’re wrong. I don’t.”

Liam grinned. “Sandro’s the family introvert, which is pretty miserable for him because he has to deal with people all the time. From what we’ve been told, you’re also a probable introvert.”

I thought about it. “I’m extroverted with books.”

“Crap. Another introvert,” he replied. “Are you sure about this, Mom? Partnering introverts together? We might not see either of them again.”

Sandro’s mother wandered into the living room from the nearby kitchen. “Well, I certainly didn’t spend several million dollars without being sure about it, although your father is a great deal less cranky with me now that he knows most of the money is staying in the family. He thinks I didn’t give Jade enough, and since the boy doesn’t need any of it, well, at least it’s still in the family. He’s quite mad I decided to buy out several stores for things for her while filling out the forms last night. I would have bought all that anyway, so I don’t see what the problem is.”

I bet I could figure it out; the auction house probably charged an extra twenty percent to handle the extras.

“Can I call you Jade?” Liam asked.

“I might be driven to homicide should people call me Miss Tamrin all the time, so please do.”

“Good job catching my brother. If you have any advice for the rest of us, we’re listening. Now that I’ve gotten a chance to actually meet you, I can understand why my brother has been chasing you all over the country.”

I took my time looking over Sandro’s older brothers, pricking my ears forward. “Well, unless you’re someone who really likes challenges and you don’t mind that your potential wife might hold a grudge for a few decades, I recommend against bounties.”

According to their expressions, they liked challenges and didn’t mind the idea of their future wives holding grudges.

I sighed.

Sandro’s mother laughed. “I’ll impress upon the children they should invite their potential wives to a game of cat and mouse, and should they lose, they have to marry into the family. That might work—and limit the amount of damage I do to our savings accounts.”

“Perhaps impress that upon yourself,” I muttered.

Everyone laughed, although I doubted Michael understood what was so funny. Sandro’s father picked up his youngest son and held him, and the boy wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. Given five minutes, I bet he’d fall asleep.

I envied him. I couldn’t remember either of my parents holding me for no other reason than because they could. I’d spent more time locked in a bedroom, which my parents claimed was a playroom meant to keep me happy. Once I’d learned to read, I’d ignored the toys and read, and they’d encouraged my hobby to keep me out of sight and quiet.

Sandro’s father chuckled. “If you get hungry, Jade, there’s more soup simmering on the stove for you, and it’s ready whenever you are. We’re doing a roast tonight. It’s one of Sandro’s favorite foods, so I figured I’d try to appease him a little with my choice of dinner. If I let his mother pick, we’d be ordering pizza.”

After spending so long in the Alley, roasts were even rarer than steaks and salad, as nobody could afford that much beef—and what wasn’t turned into steaks was either ground or turned to sausage, which better fit the budget of those who lived in Tulsa. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had pizza. “Is pizza an option for tomorrow?”

“It absolutely is, assuming you can prevent the boy from dragging you out of here while he’s suffering through a temper tantrum. Truth be told, after