Mr. Swoony (The Nest #3)

Chapter 44

Forty-Four

Eloise

We’re on our way to dinner with my grandparents, and the nerves are starting to get to me. I know how they can be when they’re not happy with me, and I don’t want any of that directed toward Conor.

I could have told him not to come, but I want his support. Besides, if they have a problem with him, that’s their problem. What they should be concerned about is whether I’m happy or not.

“My mom is worried,” I say to Conor, who seems kind of distracted tonight. He’s been on his phone more than usual when we’re together.

“How come?” He slides his phone back in his pocket.

“My grandparents can be persuasive, and I’ve always cowed to their wants. I told my mom that if they give me a hard time, then we’ll leave.”

He places his hand over mine. “You lead the way, and I follow.”

“Thanks again for coming.”

“I want to be here.” He squeezes my hand, and our eyes lock for a moment before I look out the window. “Hey, I forgot to mention, you know that day we were going to volunteer at the animal shelter? Can we push it by an hour?”

I shrug. “Sure.”

“SportsVerse wants to interview me.” He says it so casually, as if it’s not a big deal.

“What? Why aren’t you jumping up and down?” I sink back into my seat. “Or is it not a big deal? Have they interviewed you before?”

He chuckles as we pull up along the curb at the restaurant.

We climb out of the car, but I tug on Conor’s hand because I don’t want to go in there until we finish our conversation. “So, is this, like, a new thing?”

“I’ve been interviewed plenty, but it’s my first time being spotlighted. I’ll be on the cover. Which reminds me, we have to talk about how much you feel comfortable with me saying about our relationship.”

I wind my arms around his neck, pressing myself against him. “I’m so happy for you. I wish we could be celebrating instead of going to dinner with my grandparents.” I pretend pout.

“We don’t have to celebrate.” He kisses me. “Now, stop delaying and let’s go.”

My shoulders sag, and I sulk, allowing him to lead me inside the restaurant.

“We will be celebrating when we get home,” I say.

He doesn’t argue, but there’s still a quietness about him tonight that concerns me. Maybe he’s nervous about this meeting too.

We walk up to the hostess.

“Corbin, party of four,” I say.

She smiles, but her eyes are more on Conor than me. “Yes, your party is already here.” She steps away, and Conor waits for me to go first.

I spot my grandparents at a table for four right in the middle of the window that looks out onto the street. It’s probably the best table in the restaurant, which doesn’t surprise me.

“Here you go.” The hostess stops and holds out her arm toward the table.

My grandparents lift their gazes from their menus. There are no smiles over seeing their granddaughter or standing up to shake hands with her boyfriend.

My grandfather puts out his hand at the two empty seats. “Please sit.”

Conor holds his hand out to my grandfather. “Good evening, sir. Conor Nilsen.”

My grandfather stares at his hand for a moment and doesn’t shake it. “Yes, I remember you.”

We’re off to a great start. Wonderful.

I place my hand on the back of the chair, but Conor beats me to it, sliding it out for me. I sit, and he pushes me into the table before he takes his own seat. I pick up the menu, and Conor glances around the table, probably waiting to see if anyone is going to say anything, but when no one does, he picks up his own menu.

His hand slips under the table and rests on my leg. Since I’m wearing a dress, his rough palm is against my skin, and his touch works to ease my nerves a bit.

The waitress comes over, and my grandfather orders a bottle of wine for us to share without asking whether anyone actually wants wine.

“Excuse me,” Conor grabs the waitress’s attention before she leaves. “May I have a sparkling water?” She nods, and he turns to my grandparents. “I’m in season, and I have a game tomorrow.”

They both nod but say nothing else.

This is going to be the most awkward dinner ever.

“I’m assuming since you insisted on your boyfriend coming—” my grandmother glares in Conor’s direction “—you’re okay with us being frank.”

“May I interject for a second?” Conor asks.

My hand squeezes his on my thigh to tell him to just let my grandmother get her rant over with. But my grandparents relax in their chairs. My grandfather holds his hand out to tell Conor he has the floor.

“I want to apologize. Barging into the wedding, drunk on top of it, isn’t something I would normally do.”

My grandmother’s back straightens, and she rests her elbows on the armrests, clasping her hands in front of her. “Then why did you decide to ruin everyone’s day?”

“Grandmother,” I say, but Conor squeezes my knee.

“I met Eloise, and there was an instant connection?—”

My grandmother waves. “Connection? Instant? You blew her entire life up so you could sleep with her.” Her eyes are so cold and mean that it’s hard to remember why I cared about impressing this woman.

Conor exhales a breath.

I lean in across the table. “That’s not it at all. And he didn’t blow up my life. I could have just as easily told Conor to go away and still married Tristan.”

The waitress brings over the bottle of wine, and I’m thankful for the reprieve. She opens the bottle, pours my grandfather a small amount to sip, and once he says it’s good enough, she pours some for everyone.

“I’m happy. Conor makes me happy,” I say as they sip their wine.

My grandmother swallows and looks at Conor. “I’m sure you do very well, young man. Some of my friends have told me about your salary and things. Some of them are even enamored that you wanted our Eloise. But you do not have the connections or the wealth for our lineage.”

I wrap my shaking hand around my wineglass.

“It’s not to say that we don’t admire all the hard work it took you to get where you are.” My grandfather places his wineglass on the table. “But, son, you don’t come from our world. You could very well get hurt tomorrow, and then you’re done, because you’ve probably spent your money on frivolous things.”

Conor picks up his sparkling water, sipping and swallowing before placing it back down on the table. He removes his hand from my leg and both of his hands grip the armrests, as if he’s calming himself before he responds.

“Here’s a little about me. My dad is a defensive attorney in the city and a partner in his practice. My mother is a wedding dress designer who has her own business and does well. At least according to our standards, probably pennies to you. I worked my ass off my entire life to get to where I am in the league. I’m the lucky one who earned his spot with blood, sweat, and a lot of injuries. It taught me how to be resilient, and I’m grateful and proud of what I’ve accomplished. I’ve fallen for your granddaughter. I’m happy to show you my bank accounts and portfolio because I actually don’t spend my money on frivolous things. I could get injured tomorrow, and financially I’d be okay not to work another day in my life?—”

I put my hand over Conor’s to stop him from talking and look across the table at my grandparents. “I’m sorry that you were embarrassed that I didn’t marry a man who wasn’t going to make me happy in the long run and who treated me with disinterest at best and disrespect at worst. Why would you rather have me marry Tristan, who clearly never loved me? Who always put me second to everything else in his life, rather than Conor who has picked me up from the lowest point in my life and helped me figure out who I am?” I dig my finger into my chest.

“So, you’re going to marry him?” my grandmother asks, not addressing anything else I said. The disgust in her tone says it all, I suppose.

I’m not going to get anywhere here.

“No.” I shake my head.

“You aren’t?” Conor’s head whips in my direction. “Ever?”

I place my hand on his cheek and shake my head. “I meant I’m done here.” I turn back to my grandparents, down the red wine, and slide out my chair. “If you can’t accept Conor, you can’t accept me, not that you ever really did accept me. You have a status to live up to, and I don’t fit in the mold you keep trying to shove me into. So, go tell your friends that you’ve disowned me or tell them nothing at all. I really don’t care.” I stand.

When Conor doesn’t, I put my hand under his bicep, nudging him up.

He stands next to me, and I hook my arm through his. “But know that it will be you who’s missing out because when our kids ask me about my grandparents, you’ll just be fictional people that they’ll never know. You’ll be like reading a history book. Just facts about who you were. But that’s all that matters to you, right? Figures and facts. Never any heart.”

“Eloise, sit down.” My grandmother is seething. “You’re causing a scene.”

“You want to see a scene, Grandmother?” I put my hands on Conor’s shoulders and turn him to me, then smack my lips to his, sliding my hand to the back of his neck to make sure he doesn’t pull away.

But of course he doesn’t. He actually licks the seam of my lips and slides his tongue into my mouth, earning a gasp from my grandmother.

“Have a great life.” I take Conor’s hand and walk away.

Conor stops us and digs his wallet out of his back pocket. He throws a bunch of hundred-dollar bills on the table. “Dinner’s on me.”

His fingers entwine with mine, and he escorts me out of the restaurant. Once we’re outside, I grip his shoulders and kiss him so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if his lips were bruised.

“It’s over.” I sink into his arms, and he holds me tightly.

I’m disappointed that things didn’t go differently, but I think I knew they wouldn’t. Still, I’m happy I said my piece and no longer have to worry about living up to their unattainable standards.

“Our kids?” Conor finally says.

I smack him in the stomach and look up at him. “No kids?”

He runs his palm down my cheek. “Definitely kids.”

“Take me home?”

He places a light kiss on my lips and flags down a cab so we can return to the happy bubble we’ve created together.