that statement than with any other I’ve heard pass his lips. So why do I stay in my chair, sitting at his side primly with my hand on his thigh, and not run from the danger in the room? Because he’s tracing my fingers gently, slowly, almost reverently as he utters the growled threat.
He might be a crook. He might be dangerous, for all I know. But that touch tells me that he’s not dangerous to me . . . but he might be dangerous for me. In a good way.
It’s a very subtle and very intoxicating difference.
Debra tries to break the awkwardness and returns to a seemingly safe topic . . . weddings. “Oh, Poppy . . . I didn’t get to see your ring. May I?”
“Oh . . . uh . . .” I stammer, clenching my hand under the table as if that could make a ring suddenly appear. “Well, I don’t have it tonight. It’s—”
“At the jewelers,” Connor says quickly. I give him a look, lifting one brow as if to say, ‘Is it that easy to lie?’ His answer is to blink slowly and take a casual sip of his wine like he’s handing the rest to me.
“Yes, sorry about that. It’s at the jewelers. Connor said I could get the ring of my dreams, so they’re custom-designing the wedding band to go around the solitaire and getting it all sized for me because once I put that baby on, I’m never taking it off.” I smile sweetly at Connor, doing my best to make it look like I’ve got heart bubbles in my eyes.
See, I can do this! I tell him silently. But you’ve gotta work with me.
“That’s so sweet,” Caylee gushes, clearly vibing on the romance of the whole evening. She’s got love, so her brother has to have love too, right? “Custom rings?”
“He’s probably making layaway payments on it,” Audrey quips under her breath, but I’m sure she intentionally said it loud enough to be heard. Ian chuckles, smirking at Connor like his mother got one over.
Debra, with some surprising bite of her own, sugar-sweetly asks, “Isn’t that what Harold had to do with your ring?” Then she waves a hand, “Oh, silly me, I forgot, you bought it yourself, didn’t you?”
Jeez, this family’s a soap opera in the flesh.
Audrey looks like she sucked on a lemon covered in warhead powder. “I did. Because I married for love. Not for money.”
She looks from Debra to Robert with disdain, and next to me, I can feel Connor vibrating like a racehorse about to burst out of the gate . . . except I think what he’s holding back from is letting his rage explode all over this room.
Caylee saves the day as she rolls her eyes and huffs loudly. “Could we not? I’m getting married in one week, and I really don’t need World War Three breaking out between the two of you between now and then. Let’s call it a draw, retire to your respective corners, and you can pick up this fight again after the wedding.”
It seems like Connor’s not the only one tired of whatever this battle is between his mom and aunt. Caylee’s right. She’s got a lot on her plate, and dealing with childish adults shouldn’t be one of them.
Debra tilts her head at Caylee, giving in though I can see the continuing words of anger she’d like to spit at her sister sitting on the tip of her tongue. Audrey starts, “Of course, dear. You know we’re all here for you. It’s your day—”
“Good,” Caylee says, cutting her off. “Now, Connor . . . you’ll be there, right? I need my brother there for my wedding. I’m only doing this once, you know?”
He’s shaking his head before she even gets the question out. “Caylee, no. Dinner, that’s all I promised, and I’m here.”
He seems to conveniently have forgotten that it’s me who agreed to dinner, not him. My heart twists as I see the disappointment in Caylee’s eyes. But a million points for Evan as he looks lovingly at her, wishing he could take this pain away. Audrey looks triumphant, especially as Debra takes a heavy drink of her wine. And Robert looks resigned, as if he never expected more from his bad seed son.
“Of course, he’ll be there. We both will.” I don’t squeeze Connor’s thigh this time. I flat-out pinch him, daring him to disagree. When he makes a sound of shocked pain, I do