AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Eight
Mia
I stompedoutof the restroom, berating myself the entire way to the table where Brenna and Rory still sat.
I enjoyed his mouth on me. It was an action I wasn’t expecting, and the way he controlled the kiss… My God, the man was magical.
And I responded. I was supposed to be pissed at him! I was pissed at him!
Sure, this whole debacle was my fault but my goodness, I didn’t expect a kiss from him upon finding out that I was pregnant and had kept it from him!
I furiously swiped under my eyes, trying to rid my lower lids of any lingering tears. Fuck this hormonal emotional bull, too. I hated that I cried on a drop of a dime and from the moment Conor turned his icy glare at me, to when he was trying to win me over by getting in my pants yet again…
I couldn’t control the emotions.
Brenna noticed me coming first and immediately stood. “I am so sorry, Mia.”
I held up a hand as I drew near the table. “Save it, Brenna. I should have realized you had something up your sleeve. I wasn’t good enough for you growing up, and you obviously wanted to push all my buttons now.” Brenna’s mouth dropped open and she gaped at me. I was so livid, so pissed, with myself that I really could give two shits about Brenna’s thoughts and reactions at this very moment.
I looked around the table for my clutch, finally spotting it where my chair was. I leaned forward but grumbled to myself when my belly got in the way. My goodness, I didn’t know what I would do in even five more weeks. At twenty-four weeks, I looked like I was harboring a ball of some sort under my shirt, and I still had sixteen weeks to go.
I moved my lean into a crouch and finally was able to retrieve my clutch. I stood back up just as Conor reached the table.
“Happy birthday, Bren,” he said, pulling her in to kiss her temple, “but I’m taking Mia home.”
“Like hell you are!” I slammed my clutch to my side.
He glared at me, the blue of his eyes icy and fierce. “I’m taking you home. We are not finished.” Each word was pronounced as if he were forcing each word out. As if his forced words would get me to comply.
Ha!
I wasn’t some woman he could just…order around! I shook my head. “No. I drove myself. I’ll get myself home.” I turned on my heel before he could get in another word.
With my head lowered, I made my way out of the restaurant. We definitely made quite the scene and it was embarrassing to say the least. Before I could open the door, it opened from a masculine arm behind me and I fought the need to growl at Conor.
I walked through the door, my clutch held firmly against my leg, as I made my way toward my car.
“I said I was taking you home,” Conor spoke from behind me. He was right on my heels, not that I turned to check.
“And I said I was doing it myself.” I weaved through the cars in the parking lot, finding my gray Mazda-3. I popped open my clutch to find the little fob I tossed in there, hitting the button to unlock the doors.
As I went to open the door though, Conor’s big paw slapped down, holding the door in place.
“I want. To talk. To you.”
I whipped around, my back to my car, before I could decide that was a bad move. I was now trapped between a menacing Conor and his hard, delicious body, and my car, with no escape route.
“Then talk.” I gave him my best stern-teacher voice, even though inside I was quivering with nerves. Or anticipation. I wasn’t entirely sure which.
“Not out here.”
I crossed my arms and drew in my brows. “You are awfully demanding.”
“We need to talk, Mia, and I don’t want to do it out in the open. My place, your place, fuck, the bar. Just not here.”
He didn’t move any closer, but he was already close enough. The toes of his boots met the toes of my shoes and with him leaning forward against the car, it brought his chest and neck close to my face. When I’d last been near him, he smelled good, yes, but he had the scent of the bar on him.
And other women.
