With my hold on her, it was impossible to miss the tremor that went through her. She tried to dislodge herself from my grip.
I didn’t fucking let her.
She settled for giving a pointed look around my father’s ostentatious-as-shit porch.
Who needed so many marble columns and statues? Were we supposed to think we’d teleported to Greece?
“I think it’s a little late for that,” she muttered as she fussed with her dress.
Other than her running down to my car for my bag and the lobby for our food deliveries—she hadn’t wanted to risk anyone seeing me, something I gave less and less of a fuck about—Greer and I had spent Christmas Eve locked away in her apartment.
And mostly naked.
I was a big fan of that part.
I’d been willing to skip the visit with my old man to continue the good thing we had going, but Greer had fought me on it. It’d take a lot of back and forth—back and forth that involved sexual extortion—before I’d finally relented.
But only after she’d reluctantly agreed to attend Christmas dinner at the illustrious Clark Carter’s mega mansion with me.
I’d thrown on the black sweater and gray slacks I’d tossed into the overnight bag, knowing that she would likely insist. That was as dressed up as I was getting. Greer didn’t follow that same casual dress code. She’d come out of her bedroom in a short green velvet dress that brought out the green in her eyes. The fit clung to her tits before flaring out at her hips, and the length showed off her tanned legs. Her long hair was mostly down at my order, but she’d clipped the top back with a cute bow.
She looked like a pretty present under the tree that I would ask Santa for.
One I couldn’t wait to unwrap.
Too bad my thoughts when it came to the siren had likely permanently landed me on the naughty list.
She fussed again with a wrinkle that wasn’t there, and I stilled her motion with a tight hand around her wrist. Her wide eyes shot to me.
“If you keep lifting that skirt, baby, I am not going to be responsible for my actions.”
Leaning into me, she let out a shuddering breath. “Maybe it’s not too late, after all.”
But I didn’t have that kind of luck.
Both heavy doors in front of us opened at that moment with a dramatically ominous creak. An old man in a tux looked out before a grin split his wrinkled face. “Tripp.”
I released Greer just long enough to embrace the man who felt shorter and a hell of a lot frailer than he had the last time I was there.
Of course, it’d been more than five years, so that made sense.
His curious gaze landed on Greer, and I tugged her forward to introduce them. “Greer, this is Percy. Perce, this is Greer.”
“Percival,” he corrected as he shoved a bony elbow into my side before taking Greer’s outstretched hand in both of his. “Lovely to meet you.”
“It’s lovely to meet you as well,Percival,” Greer said, appearing calm and polished and as fake as everything else in my world.
I can’t wait to get her home to mess up this put together persona.
Of all the household staff, Percival was the only one I never loathed. He’d covered for me as often as he could, keeping the secrets the rest of them happily squealed.
That didn’t stop me from needling him the way I used to. “What’s been new, Percy? Love the penguin getup, ole Perce. How’re you feeling, Percy Perce?”
“Glad to see that aging hasn’t matured you,” Percy said with a sigh. He didn’t mind the nickname, but my father hated it. Hewas all about the pomp and circumstance he felt a celebrity like him deserved.
And returning home must automatically age regress people because the thought of annoying my father brought me Christmas joy.
Percy otherwise ignored my questions as he gestured us in. “Mr. Carter is in the parlor while the kitchen finishes dinner.”
