“I’m down for that. Win-win.” She laughed, but as her mother pulled into the driveway of a modest two-story home with beautiful gardens out front and Diesel parked at the curb, her expression turned serious. “What if I don’t fit in with them? Do you think I will? I still can’t believe my mom doesn’t hate me. She said the girls didn’t, but what if they do? They play soccer. Did I mention that already?”

“Yeah, about ten times.” He took her hand, wishing he could take away her trepidation. “You’re the most likable person I know. If they’ve got a problem, that’s on them, not you.” He motioned to Anthony coming out the front door wearing dress slacks and a blue polo shirt, waving to her mother. “Let’s go.”

He came around to help Tracey out, and with his arm protectively around her, they went to meet her stepfather. Diesel sized him up as they approached. He was about six feet tall, well built, with closely shorn hair and a short beard. He had one arm around his wife, and his kind eyes told Diesel he’d probably earned that good reputation he’d heard about.

“Welcome home, Tracey. I’m Tony, and I’m so glad you’re here.” He said it like they were old friends, and hell if the look on Tracey’s face didn’t get Diesel choked up. Tony extended his hand. “I’m a hugger, but the girls told me not to freak you out.”

Tracey smiled. “It’s okay. We can hug.” She embraced him. “This is my boyfriend, Diesel.”

“I’d offer to hug you, too, but you kinda scare me.” Tony laughed and shook Diesel’s hand. “Michelle told me you were a big man, but wow. What did your mama feed you?”

“Whatever was in the cupboard, sir.”

“Please, call me Tony.” He hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “The girls are out back kicking a soccer ball around. They’re anxious to meet you both. Would you like to meet them?”

“Yes, I’d really like that,” Tracey said, taking Diesel’s hand as they headed toward the backyard. “Your gardens are beautiful.”

“That’s all your mother’s doing,” Tony said. “I love flowers, but I’m better at killing them than growing them.”

As they came around the side of the house, the younger girl yelled, “They’re here!” and she ran toward them. She was tall and skinny, with a head full of braids and a sweet, happy face. “Hi! I’m Malia, and that’s my sister, Anna, over there.” She hugged Tracey as her sister sauntered over with a cautiously curious expression, holding the soccer ball under one arm.

“Hi. I’m Tracey.”