He narrowed his eyes when the driver got out and opened the back door for a young man.

“Who is that?” Bartholomew asked. He sounded even more surprised then Raven felt.

“I haven’t a clue,” Raven answered. The Vayoo driver retrieved a small suitcase and overnight bag from the trunk of the car.

“I believe it’s your editor,” Dizzy announced. Both Raven and Bartholomew swiveled to peer at their mother. They found her reading the now-open UPS letter.

“My editor? What the hell are you talking about?” Raven marched over to snatch the letter out of her hand. Ignoring his rude behavior, Raven’s mother moved to Bartholomew’s side and peered curiously outside. “As the mail is so slow, and because the interest in your books is becoming so widespread, Mr. Paxton Booth decided to come speak to you in person. Which,” Dizzy added archly, “you would know should you bother to read your mail.”

Raven crumpled the letter in hand. It basically said everything his mother had just verbalized. That, plus the fact that Paxton Booth would be arriving on the 7 p.m. flight from Colorado. It was 7:30 p.m. The plane must have been on time.

“ He’s quite pretty, isn’t he?” The comment, along with the speculation in his mother’s voice when she made it, was enough to raise alarm in Raven. Dizzy sounded like a mother considering taking the matchmaking trail path quite familiar to her. She’d taken it upon first seeing David and Valkyrie together, too, and look how that had turned out: David hip deep in wedding preparations!

“She’s contemplating matchmaking, Bartholomew. Take her home. Now,” Raven ordered His brother ., “After she has finished with David and Valkyrie ’s wedding, she shall focus on finding you a wife.” Bartholomew burst-ed out laughingly. As He grabbed his mother’s arm. “Come along, mother. This is none of our business.”

“Of course it is my business.” Dizzy shrugged her elbow free. “Raven is my son. his happiness and future are very much my Business.” Bartholomew tried to argue. “I don’t understand why this is an issue now. They are both well over four hundred years old. Why, after all this time, have you taken it into your head to see them married off?”

Dizzy pondered for a moment. “Well, ever since your father died, I’ve been thinking”

“Dear God,” Raven interrupted. He woefully shook his head.

“What did I say?” his mother asked.

“That is exactly how Bartholomew ended up working at the restaurant and getting involved with culinary chef Lyric Quest. Dad died, and she started thinking.”

Bartholomew nodded solemnly. “women shouldn’t think.”

“Bartholomew!” Dizzy Remington exclaimed.

“Now, now. You know I’m teasing, mother,’ he smoothed, taking her arm again. This time he got her out the door.

“I, however, am not,” Raven called as he watched them walk down the porch steps to the sidewalk. His mother berated Bartholomew the whole way, and Raven grinned at his brother’s beleaguered expression. Bartholomew would catch hell all the way home, Raven knew, and almost felt sorry for him. Almost. His laughter died, however, as his gaze switched to the blonde who was apparently his editor. His mother paused in her berating to greet the man. Raven almost tried to hear what was said, then decided not to bother.