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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 it again, pinching up higher, dangerously close to the Jolly Green Giant’s beanstalk zone and reminding him that I fight dirty. “Isn’t that right, babe? We wouldn’t miss Caylee’s wedding for anything in the world.”
As the words pop out of my mouth, Connor’s glare turns up to level eleven. Huh, who would’ve thought he had more intensity than the glares he’s already given me? Certainly not me, but the proof is right there in his gaze.
Uh-oh.
I might be in real trouble now.
Chapter 9
Connor
If looks could kill, I would murder Poppy where she sits at my family’s dining room table. In fact, like my coffee mug suggests, I’m thinking of at least seven ways to do it right here, right now. I could probably bury her curvy, sexy little body out back in the treed part of my family’s property and no one would be the wiser.
Not that I’ve ever done that. I might be a thief, a bastard, and a lying shit who walks out on everyone and everything, but I’m not a murderer.
But she’s tempting me. In multiple ways, which scares the hell out of me because no matter how hard I try, I cannot control or predict this woman. All I can do is adapt on the fly and see if it leads to disaster or not.
This time, though, as much as it pisses me off, it seems to be the right thing to say because Caylee shouts and claps, “Oh, my gosh! Thank you so much, Poppy! And you too, Connor! It means so much to me!”
She claps again, and I can see how happy she is. I’m not exactly close to Caylee these days, but once upon a time, we were thick as thieves. No pun intended. And for some reason, it means something to her that I’m there. Even if she doesn’t need an asshole like me fucking up her happy day.
“Excuse us for a minute,” I tell the table before I drag Poppy into the hallway. She stumbles after me, trying to keep up with my long strides in her heels. I whirl, backing her into a wall and looming over her. Getting right in her face, I demand, “What the fuck was that?”
Her eyes cut back to the dining room, where I’m guessing they’re listening closely to every word we say. But I’m doing this on purpose. I’m being the asshole so that we can end all of this now before someone gets even more hurt. When her eyes return to mine, they’re flashing with warning as she whispers, “It’s your sister’s wedding. Did you see how happy she is? You have to go.”
“No. I don’t. I don’t have to do anything,” I argue, not bothering to keep my voice down. I want them to hear me. It’ll suck, of course. But it’s better that way. For us all, Caylee especially. As much as I hate to hurt her, she needs to know that she can’t count on me, not for this. I stand up straight, stubbornly unwilling to debate something that’s not even an option.
