Emily had all of twenty minutes notice that Alex's father, along with Derek's mother and sisters, were arriving at the ranch that day. To be fair, she would have had more notice, but she'd slept in that morning and by the time she emerged from her room, Derek was already on his way back from the airport with everyone in tow.

At that point, it was all she could do to comb some semblance of order into her hair and dress perhaps a little nicer than she normally did (to make a good impression, she told herself, and absolutely no other reason).

She was standing in front of the mirror, debating whether she needed to change yet again, when she heard a raucous from the foyer and knew her time to mentally prepare herself had run out...

Descending the stairs, she found a swarm of people all embracing and laughing and struggling to be heard over all the chaos...in the best possible way. It was nothing like the dignified and demure greetings she was used to giving and getting while running in her mother's circles.

Ethan, of course, was the first to notice her presence and was instantly at her side, tugging her down the stairs so he could properly present her to everyone. One by one, he introduced her to Desiree, Sarah, and Fran (the latter embracing Emily as if she'd known her all her life), then finally to Damon who sized her up as if weighing her worthiness as Alex's sort of, not really girlfriend.

Alex seemed to sense Emily's sudden discomfort under Damon's assessing gaze and, thankfully, saved her by saying, "You all must be starving – shall we have some lunch?"

"Oh, you didn't have to cook for us, Dear," Fran said, "I could have..."

Derek interrupted to say, "Mama, you're a guest. We didn't bring you here to cook for us. We have this same conversation every year."

Fran just laughed off his diatribe, even as she insisted on helping set the table.

Emily volunteered to wash dishes after lunch...at least partly to have a moment to herself, away from judgmental eyes and prying questions. Unfortunately for her, Damon also insisted on helping with dishes and nothing Emily could say would dissuade him.

"Ethan talks about you a lot," Damon informed her, almost apropos of nothing.

"Oh, really?" Emily said, struggling to keep her voice level.

He nodded. "He seems quite taken with you."

"He's a sweet boy," Emily said, as if that were an answer to anything at all.

Damon said nothing for a few moments as he dried a plate and returned it to the cupboard. Then, "I certainly hope you're taking care with him."

Emily quirked a brow. "Meaning what?"

"He's already lost one parent," he said, "He doesn't remember James' departure, but he's well aware that his father isn't present. I would hope that you're not getting his hopes up that you're going to fill an absence in his life."

Emily sighed. She had to wonder what exactly Ethan had been telling his grandfather...and how candid Alex had been as well. "I haven't made him any promises I don't intend to keep," she said primly.

If he was unsure about the honesty of that answer, he didn't say so. What he did say was, "And Alex? Have you been making her promises as well?"

She would have liked to say that that was between Alex and herself...but, for whatever reason, she wanted Damon to like her and endorse whatever relationship it was that she and Alex had or may have had (she still wasn't quite certain where they stood).

When she didn't immediately answer, Damon continued, "Alex is more fragile than she lets on. She's very skilled at masking the broken parts, but pretending they aren't there doesn't make it so."

"Alex and I are fine," Emily said, then immediately wished she hadn't...or at the very least, had said something more eloquent. She tried again, "Whatever is between us is...working for us." She winced, realizing that didn't sound much better. "We're fine," she insisted again.

Damon didn't seem convinced, but didn't say so. He didn't have to.

Emily was saved further interrogation by Alex entering the kitchen, carrying more dishes. She only had to glance at Emily's expression to know what she'd interrupted and she couldn't help but take pity on her. "Dad," she said, "Ethan wants to taking you to the skating pond and show you what he's learned. Why don't you let me finish up here?"

If he knew what she was trying to do, he thankfully didn't say so. He merely kissed her on the cheek, passed her the dish towel on his way to find Ethan.

Once he was sufficiently out of earshot, Alex apologized profusely, "I'm so sorry, Em... I should have known he only volunteered to help so he could grill you about our relationship. He means well, but he's very overprotective of me – partly because I'm his only daughter, partly because Mom passed away and he doesn't quite know how to do the soft, nurturing things she would have done – but mostly, it's just because you can never take the cop out of the man." She shrugged helplessly, offered a sheepish smile.

Emily, though, had other questions on her mind... "I didn't know you told your family about us..."

Alex blushed then, scraped her teeth across her bottom lip as she struggled for the correct response. "Well, I may have mentioned you once or twice," she said shyly.

"Good things, I hope..." Emily teased.

Alex rolled her eyes. "Depends."

"On what?"

"On how much you pissed me off that day," she teased right back. "Which, to be fair, is usually a lot."

"Hey!" Emily whined, pouted. She grabbed a handful of dish suds and blew the bubbles towards Alex.

She rolled her eyes again. "You're such a child sometimes."

Emily laughed. "You love that about me, though," she stated, playful and joking.

She was surprised then, when Alex replied easily, "I do love you."