Chapter 10 #2
“I’ll meet you in the living room,” I call as I stride out of the room, stopping in the hall so I can speak to Mildred through the intercom.
I thought I would have time, and now she’s here, and I have to convince her to move in imminently.
It puts me on edge, and makes my jagged edges sharper. “What are you doing here?”
She holds up her bag and points to it, frowning. “I have the books you asked me to bring.”
“But you’re early.”
“My afternoon reading program was canceled, thanks to a lice outbreak. Everly wasn’t all that sad, but Victor was. Not that it matters.” She waves a hand in front of her face.
“Who are Everly and Victor?”
“My favorite twins. Are you going to let me in? Or do you need me to grab a coffee somewhere?”
“No, just come up. Or I can drive down to get you.” I open the gate.
“Don’t drive down. That’s ridiculous.” As soon as there’s enough room to pass, she squeezes through.
I call Cedrick and inform him that Mildred is already here, and that it isn’t his fault since I didn’t warn her he was coming to pick her up.
“What flavor of cake does Mildred prefer?” he asks.
“Something with strawberries, if they have it.”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
“Thank you, Cedrick.”
I open the door as Mildred climbs the front steps. Her hair is stuck to her temples, her face is red, and she looks halfway to passing out. We’re having one of those fun September heat waves. “How far did you walk?”
“A couple of blocks. The bus’s AC was broken.
I just need five minutes out of the heat and this will calm down.
” She motions to her pink cheeks as she brushes by me.
She drops the bag and shrugs out of her cardigan, leaving her in a pale purple tank top that does a wonderful job of highlighting her ample cleavage, which is typically covered.
I can’t stop staring. She’s beautiful, curvy, and sensuous.
She waves the cardigan like a fan. “I hope my olfactory senses aren’t permanently damaged. A group of teenage boys who’d bathed in body spray were sitting next to me.”
“I thought you weren’t going to be here for at least another hour.” Why am I incapable of having a regular conversation that doesn’t include repeating myself?
“We’ve been over that.”
“Cedrick went to pick you up,” I explain.
“Oh shit. Did I miss a text?”
“No. I didn’t text you. I just thought… It doesn’t matter.
” I want to bury my face in her neck and lick the salt off her skin.
I wonder what kind of touch she likes. What sound would she make if I kissed a path to her tempting mouth?
That will never happen because this relationship doesn’t involve sex.
She’s mine, but she’ll never really be mine.
To touch. To claim. “It would be better if you put the cardigan back on.” It comes out snappy, which is not what I intended.
“Are the girls offending you?” She arches a brow. “I don’t have much control over how loud and proud they are.”
I try not to let my gaze shift below her neck. “I didn’t mean—”
“Stop while you’re ahead, Connor.” She slides her arms back through the sleeves and makes intentional eye contact as she fastens buttons and covers her cleavage. “Better?”
“Not really.” I preferred the previous view, but telling her that will probably just make her more uncomfortable. “Meems is excited to see you.” I motion for her to follow me.
“Hopefully more excited than you.”
“We’ve already established that my getting excited isn’t in the contract, and so far you seem opposed to amending it,” I quip.
“I can’t tell if you’re insulting or complimenting me.”
“Neither. I was ogling your assets.”
She huffs. “You are something else, Connor.”
“So I’ve been told, darling.”
Mildred follows me to the living room. She and Meems greet each other with smiles and hugs.
Jealousy over their easy connection makes the back of my neck hot.
Would she have accepted a hug from me if I offered it instead of acting like a mannerless brat?
If she did, would it be solely out of obligation?
They sit beside each other on the couch, and I take the chair across from them, feeling like I always do—on the outside of everything.
“What did you bring me this week?” Meems peeks in the bag.
“Books two and three in the highland warriors series, and this amazing fall-inspired romance because it fits the season,” Mildred explains.
I fade into the background as they discuss last week’s books.
Eventually Ethel pops in to announce that dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.
“Oh, I should probably go,” Mildred says.
“You should stay,” I jump in, acting normalish for once. “For dinner.”
Meems squeezes her hand. “Please do. Unless you have somewhere else you need to be.”
Mildred nods. “I can stay.”
I don’t know how to read her yet, so I can’t be sure this isn’t an imposition. But she links arms with Meems, and I lead them to the dining room, tucking Meems’s and then Mildred’s chair in before I take my own.
The staff bring dinner to the table.
“This looks amazing,” Mildred says as Ethel plates her chicken and Norm steps in with the light cream sauce. “Thank you so much.”
“I’ll be sure to tell the kitchen staff,” Ethel replies.
Once they’ve finished serving, they leave through the back door, returning to the kitchen.
“It’s like eating in a restaurant every night, isn’t it?” Mildred muses. “But you’re friends with the staff.”
“Tonight is special with the two of you here.” Meems winks, then asks, “I know you’ve just had the engagement party, but have you given any thought to a date for the wedding?”
Mildred almost loses her hold on her knife but manages to recover. “We talked about a short engagement.” She glances at me. “Right, Connor?”
“No point in waiting when we know what we want,” I agree.
The sooner we’re married, the happier Meems will be, the harder it will be for Mildred to find a way out of this.
“Well, that’s wonderful to hear!” Meems dabs at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “The two of you must be excited to start planning.”
“Absolutely,” Mildred lies smoothly.
“I know you have wonderful friends who will support you, but if you need someone to step in with motherly advice, I’m always here.”
A smile warms my fiancée’s face as she reaches across the table. Meems mirrors the movement, and they curve their fingers together. “Thank you, I really appreciate the offer, Lucy.”
“Meems. Please call me Meems.”
“Thank you, Meems.”
We spend the rest of dinner talking about weddings. Then Meems retires to the guesthouse, and I offer to drive Mildred home.
“I still can’t believe Meems and I didn’t run into each other when we were in Aruba.” She settles in the passenger seat of my car, the space filling with her sweet strawberry-and-vanilla scent.
“We had a private villa on the other end of the resort and a staff to prepare meals,” I explain. She was also under the weather for the first part of the trip and mostly stayed by the private pool.
“That makes sense.” Mildred tugs at the hair tie on her left wrist.
“Is everything okay? You seem tense.” Maybe being alone with me in a confined space is the problem.
“I need to talk to you about my apartment.”
“What about it?”
“They’re evicting me at the end of the month, unless I can come up with the hundred thousand in back rent.”
“When did you get this notice?” Her short engagement comment makes more sense now.
“Yesterday.”
“Why are you only telling me now?”
“Because I’m only seeing you now to tell you, and this is the first time we’ve been alone.”
“You should have called me last night.”
“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I don’t particularly like asking for help.” She tugs at the hair tie again.
I do know this about her. “But you’re always so willing to offer it.”
She shrugs. “It feels good to help people. It feels bad to ask for it.”
“Because someone has something they can hold over you?” I supply. That’s how I’ve always felt about my family. The Grace fortune is a carrot dangled.
“Because in my world, favors come with strings, and some of those strings can be tripping hazards.” She snaps the hair tie, then crosses her arms. “I can’t lose the apartment.”
“You won’t. I said I would handle it, and I will. I already have my lawyers working on it. Send me a copy of whatever was sent to you, and I’ll make it go away.” Might as well rip the Band-Aid off. “But also, it would be best if you moved into Meems’s house with me as soon as possible.”
Her head snaps in my direction. “I’m sorry, what?”
I stay focused on the road. “She’s moved into the guest quarters so we can move into the mansion.”
“What? I thought I’d be moving in with you after we’re married—and into your place, not with Meems.”
I sigh. “That plan has been adjusted and expedited. Meems has already gifted my father and my sisters each a home, and she plans to do the same for us. She just told me this today, but it’s what she wants, and as you know, my goal is to make her happy.
The sooner you move in, the happier she’ll be.
Besides, it simplifies things if I can manage your landlord while you’re not in imminent danger of losing your place to live. ”
“What about what I want?”
Heat shoots down my spine at her defiant tone. We’re stopped at a light, so I turn to take in her expression. Under that defiance is fear.
“You get the things you want when this marriage ends.” I grip the steering wheel and turn back to face the windshield, hating what that will mean.
“You’re unbelievable,” she murmurs.
“This is what you signed on for, Mildred. You agreed to the terms, and those terms include making Meems happy. This ensures her happiness.” I can feel her eyes on me.
“What do you want, Connor?”
“For my grandmother to be happy.”
“That’s what you want for her. What do you want for you?”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“I disagree. I think it’s very relevant.”
I throw the question back at her. “Well, what do you want?”
“I asked you first.”
“I want to watch my father lose his mind when he finds out that house is no longer being left to him.” I want him to hurt the way I always do.
“Again, that’s not for you.”
“Yes, it is.” I hate how easily she seems to see through me. “It’s no different than you wanting the financial stability this union provides. Do I need to remind you that it’s the only reason you said yes, Mildred? It has nothing to do with your feelings about me.”
“It does have a lot to do with my feelings about Meems, though, which happen to be connected to you. And honestly, Connor, I don’t know what kind of feelings to have about you.
You are clearly loyal to the bone, but you’re not giving me much to work with.
If we have to spend the next year together, God willing”—she tugs at the hair tie again—“don’t you think we should at least try being friends? ”
“I don’t want to be friends.” I want to kiss her again.
I want her to smile at me the way she smiles at Meems. I want her to reach across the table for my hand.
I want to get close to her and feel her body against mine.
I want to know who she is behind closed doors.
But I definitely don’t want to be friends with her.
She crosses her arms. “Wow. You are a fucking asshole.”
That presses a wound that’s already split wide today. “This shouldn’t be new information.”
“You’re really setting yourself up for the Dick of the Month award, Connor.”
“Really looking forward to my Dick of the Year trophy when this is all over,” I counter. Fuck. Everything out of my mouth is the wrong thing to say. I can’t afford to have her hate me on top of everything else, but I can’t stop the thorns from pricking her either.
I stop at the light and turn to her again. “You knew what I was like when you agreed to this.”
“Who are you?” she snaps.
“Your worst nightmare and the answer to your problems. It’s a real conundrum, isn’t it?” I fire back.
Her eyes flash. “Where is the Connor who sits beside me at Callie’s games and always has a smile for a little girl who idolizes him, even when the bitchy fucking moms are talking shit?”
The shit-talking is something I’m accustomed to. Frankly, I’d be more surprised if it stopped. “As if I’m going to disappoint a little girl who’s already lost everything.”
She arches a brow.
It dawns on me a second too late that she’s the same, only in woman form.
“What about the Connor Grace I spent Christmas with? Where is the man who dressed up like an elf to make a little girl’s second Christmas without her parents less of a nightmare?”
I’m angry that she’s bringing that up, using that moment of weakness against me.
Because that’s what it was. I didn’t want to be alone on Christmas.
Not again. My parents had taken my sisters, their husbands, and Meems to Cabo, and I found out from Meems when she asked when I was arriving.
They left it to me to tell her I wasn’t, because I hadn’t known they were going.
Shortly after that, Roman had sucked me into his holiday plans, along with Mildred.
It was the best Christmas I’d had in years.
But admitting that is handing her my weakness on a platter.
“That guy isn’t here,” I tell her.
“That’s bullshit, and you’re a liar.” She leans across the center console and shocks the hell out of me when she presses her lips to the edge of my jaw.
“Tell that Connor I expect him to come out and play, whether he wants to or not. I’ll walk from here.
” She hops out of the car, slamming the door before I can stop her.