Page 23 of Strawberry Kisses

Chapter Eleven

Connor

Patrick groaned, then sighed deeply while I grinned up at him from the incredibly comfortable bed. Seriously, if I didn’t have to meet Patrick’s family, I’d just stay on the bed and nap. But duty called, and I wanted to find out if the rest of Patrick’s family was as fun as his mum.

“Come on,” I said, pulling myself into a sitting position and stretching my shoulders out, wiggling my toes before I stood up. All my muscles felt tight from the long car journey, and I wondered if Patrick would mind if I did some stretching at some point. Either tonight or tomorrow morning. I’d brought some leggings with me, so it wasn’t like I’d be prancing around in my undies even if I did know that Patrick had seen me in less. He always liked my pole videos on Instagram, even the really sexy ones, so I assumed he’d watched them.

I wondered which was his favourite. Would it be terribly cheeky of me to ask?

“How do I look?” I double-checked my reflection in the dressing table mirror, debating whether I should touch up my lipstick before we went down.

“You, er, you look perfect.” Patrick smiled at me softly, and I could have sworn there was a pale blush tinting his cheeks. “Just like usual.”

“Thanks, babe. You’re too sweet.” I reached out my hand and slipped my fingers into his. I loved the way his skin felt against mine, the little burn scars and callouses on his fingers brushing against my own. Pole did not make for pretty hands, but luckily nobody ever looked at mine too closely.

“Let’s hope there are no more sex questions,” Patrick muttered as he stepped towards the door, leading me back down the landing towards the stairs. I couldn’t help laughing. My poor pastry chef.

“There you are,” came a sparkling voice, the same one that had called upstairs. It belonged to a tall woman with wild curls that reminded me exactly of Patrick’s. She had the same round face and smiling eyes too. “I thought you’d gotten lost on your way down. I was prepared to send out a search party.”

“You’re just nosy is what you are,” Patrick said as we reached the bottom of the stairs. “Mary, this is Connor. Connor, this is Mary. She’s the youngest of my older sisters.”

“Well, that makes me sound fucking ancient.” Mary beamed at me. “I’m so glad you’re here. I thought Patrick was gonna bail on bringing you.”

“I-I…” Patrick stammered, looking flustered.

“Don’t lie. You were totally thinking about it. I know you,” Mary said.

“Don’t worry,” I said, stepping into rescue Patrick. He clearly didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or run away. “I wouldn’t have let him. I’m so excited to meet everyone since Patrick’s told me all about you.”

“Did he now?”

“Of course, and it was all lovely. Absolutely nothing terrible at all.” I grinned. Technically Patrick hadn’t said anything bad at all, but I knew that all siblings had some secrets. I’d spent enough time around Ben and Levi to know. They were always at each other’s throats over something or other, even if it was just teasing.

“Well, if he did, I’m sure Mum and Da have still got his baby pictures around somewhere. I’m sure there are photos of little Patrick having a bath in the sink.”

“Why would you say that, Mary?” Patrick groaned as she led us through a door and into a cosy living room lit by the late-afternoon sun. An older man with white hair and a lean, tanned face sat on a floral sofa with two terriers in his lap and another at his feet, chatting to another woman who had darker blonde hair and a tanned face. The similarity between them made it clear they were related. I assumed the man was Patrick’s dad and the woman his sister Cara.

“Patrick!” The man said, a broad smile spreading across his face.

“Hey, Da,” Patrick said, giving him a little half wave, still holding my hand.

“I’d get up, but I don’t think I’d be very popular,” he said, gesturing at the dogs sprawled across him. He turned to me and beamed. “You must be Connor.

“That’s me.” I suddenly felt oddly tongue-tied. I’d never been in this sort of situation before, and I suddenly felt horribly off-kilter. I wanted nothing more than to ensure Patrick’s parents liked me, but all my charm seemed to have vanished. I was nervous. What the fuck? I didn’t get nervous! Except, apparently, I did. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Evans.” I forced out. “And you must be Cara?”

“Call me John. Everyone does,” he said. I smiled because his mannerisms were so like his wife’s, but also so like his son’s. John pointed at another small floral sofa opposite his. “Don’t stand on ceremony. Sit down. Aoife’s just getting tea.”

“I’m here,” Aoife said, bustling into the room carrying a large tray. “Grab a seat.”

“Maybe we’d be better off in the dining room,” Cara said.

“It’s okay. I can grab a couple of chairs,” Mary responded from behind me.

I stood awkwardly until Patrick gently pulled my hand and tugged me towards the sofa. I perched on the cushion next to him, not even having to fake wanting to be close to him. It surprised me how out of my depth I suddenly felt. I was always the chatty extrovert, never afraid to throw myself into anything, but suddenly I didn’t know what to do or say.

“You okay?” Patrick asked, leaning close to me as his family bustled around. His breath ghosted over my ear and sent a little shiver down my spine.

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I wondered if he could tell that was a lie.

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