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Her eyes implore me, nearly begging, and I look to Connor, who clears his throat. “Tonight, Caylee. I came to dinner. I’m meeting Evan. Let’s leave it at that.”
Connor’s voice isn’t unkind, just matter-of-fact, but I see the disappointment in Caylee’s eyes. She offers a shaky smile to her brother, though. “Yeah, I’m glad you’re here. I just thought . . . maybe . . .” She trails off.
The front door opens, and a male voice calls out, “Babe? Where you at?”
Caylee immediately brightens once more and runs for the door. Through the frame, I watch as she jumps into the arms of a blond man in a suit. He spins her in a circle, her knees bent to keep her feet off the ground, as he kisses her with a loud growling smack. Obviously, it’s Evan.
“I missed you today,” he tells her sweetly like a hero from a Hallmark movie. He’s definitely got eyes just for Caylee. I can see that even through my crack.
She beams as he sets her down, and they come into the big room, Caylee excitedly tugging at his hand. “Evan, this is my brother, Connor. And his fiancée, Poppy.”
Evan moves forward instantly, an easy smile on his face and his hand outstretched to Connor. “Good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, man.”
“None of it good, I’m sure,” Connor quips back, taking his hand in a firm yet polite handshake.
“Let’s eat,” Mom says, stopping that train before things can run off the rails. I get the feeling that Connor’s right. Whatever Evan’s heard, it probably wasn’t good.
We go into the dining room, which despite the size and formality of the decor, is laid out with a homey casualness that tells me that even if Connor comes from a rich family with issues, their noses aren’t so far in the air that they can’t smell their own farts.
“How was your day, Evan?” Debra asks, opening a bottle of wine. “Ready for the big day?”
“Everything’s ready,” Evan says with relief. “My boss verified that my vacation is approved, and they even threw me a surprise wedding party in the break room.” He turns to Caylee. “The gifts are in the car, and Janice wrote down the list as I opened them so we can do the thank you notes to everyone correctly.”
Caylee smiles and pats his hand. “That is so sweet of her.”
“She made the cake too, and though I didn’t tell her, I am really hoping our wedding cake is tastier.” Evan pauses dramatically, already grinning at his own joke before he tells it. “She made a fondant ‘ball and chain’ decoration. Cute idea, but in execution, it looked like dog turds made of chocolate. Kinda killed the yum factor.”
Soft laughter rings the table, at least from most of us. Connor merely snorts, his lips twitching while Robert says nothing, like he didn’t even hear the joke. But everyone seems to just let that slide as food’s passed around and plates are filled.
“So, Poppy, what do you do?” Caylee asks. “Connie never told us.”
“Connie?” I quip, giving Connor a raised eyebrow. He glowers but doesn’t correct his sister, which tells me more than ever about them. “Well, I’ve done a lot of things, to be honest. But I’m an author working on my second book, Trouble in Great Falls.”
“Is that so?” Debra asks, but a second later, her eyes widen. “Wait . . . you’re that Poppy Woodstock? I read your book! Connor, how did you find yourself a gem like her?”
“I’d say he stole me more than anything else,” I tease Connor, who growls, though I’m not sure if it’s at my tease about stealing or his mom’s implication that he could never score a find like me. “Seriously, how could I have resisted this big glowery look of his? And I take it as a personal challenge to massage away that frown line on his forehead.” I play the odds and gently run my finger along the line in question, feeling victorious when he doesn’t flinch away but instead stares directly into my eyes, allowing it.
“Good luck with that,” Caylee says. “Connor’s had that since I was a baby, at least.”
“Speaking of babies . . .” Debra says, and I have to snort as Caylee puts on an expression that makes her look so much like her brother it’s scary.
“Mom, repeat after me,” Caylee says, taking Evan’s hand. “Wedding, honeymoon, and then, sometime in the future, babies.” It sounds as though they’ve had this conversation before. “But if you keep asking, I’m going to be forced to tell you, in detail, about all the ways we’re ‘practicing’, and neither of us wants that. Keep your nose out of my uterus, and I promise I’ll tell you when there’s something to tell.”
“Caylee,” Debra gasps. I swear if she had on pearls, she’d be clutching them.
