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Connor?

He grabs a chair from another table and places it between Stanton and me, draping his arm casually over the back of my seat as he sits down. “Sorry, I’m late. Traffic was a beast.”

The lawyers, like me, are stunned in silence as Connor turns that devastating smile on me. “You look ravishing, babe.”

His lips brush my ear. “Play along.”

Mr. Stanton recovers first, eyes narrowing. “And just who might you be?”

“Connor Milton. Mary’s boyfriend.” He gives my shoulder a possessive squeeze, daring them to challenge his claim. “I’m sure she mentioned me.”

My eyes cut to him, blazing a warning that he better have a damn good explanation for this stunt. But his casual, easy smilebetrays no hint of backing down. If anything, the glint in those whiskey-colored eyes dares me to deny it.

Mr. Stanton clears his throat, fixing Connor with a skeptical expression. “Never mentioned having a... boyfriend.”

“Hasn’t she?” Connor’s thumb traces lazy circles against my bare shoulder. “We’ve been keeping things on the down-low, haven’t we, babe?”

Squaring my shoulders, I paste on a sickly sweet smile. “Of course, babe. You know how it is with all the office gossip.”

I lean into him, letting my free hand rest boldly on his thigh as I turn my big, innocent eyes his way. “I didn’t want to make the other girls jealous of my incredibly handsome, intelligent, oh-so-successful boyfriend.” The words drip like honey, and Connor stops my hand from going higher. Good.

Suddenly, Mr. Fort chokes on his drink, and Mr. Collins bows his head. “Mr. Wempton. What a pleasant surprise!”

What? I tilt my head to peer around Connor. My dad strides toward our table, and I glance back at Connor. What did he do?

I try to get some distance between us, but his hand finds mine, his thumb caressing my knuckles in a soothing gesture.

“Richard! Took you long enough,” Connor says, keeping his eyes on me.

What is going on? Dad never joins these dinners.

My father walks over, a broad smile spreading across his face. “Connor! You beat me to it.”

Connor rises to his feet, clasping Dad’s hand in a firm shake.

What the hell is happening? My gaze darts between the two of them.

“Connor and I were having a business meeting nearby and thought we’d join you.” Dad grabs one chair and sits down on the other side of me. “Shall we get started?”

No. Nononono. This is not happening. I shoot Connor a murderous glare, but he’s too busy grinning.

“Let’s order some food.” Mr. Collins raises his hand for the waiter.

As the lawyers turn their attention to the menus, I turn to Connor. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”

“You looked like you could use some help.”

I scoff softly. “So you brought my father? Bit of an overkill, don’t you think?”

“Relax.” His breath fans warmly over my cheek. “Your father is not an idiot.”

What's that supposed to mean? I open my mouth to protest, but my entire body goes rigid with shock as he gives me a quick peck on the lips.

“Shall we?” Connor gestures towards the menus as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

Biting my tongue, I absently listen to the conversation between my father and the lawyers as I peruse the menu.

I startle as something touches my knee. It’s Connor’s hand, already retreating. Before I can stop myself, I grab his hand and place it back on my knee, covering it with my own. The contactis oddly comforting, despite the whirlwind of confusion inside of me.

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