Page 77 of If You Claim Me
I manage to pass my mascara wand over my lashes without poking myself in the eye. “Dinner and girl time is what I’ve been told to prepare for.”
He lets Dewey climb onto his shoulder. “They didn’t give you any specifics?”
“Nope.” Lexi took the reins and she’s pregnant, so I can safely assume there will be no club. “I’ve been told Lexi and the girls will pick me up at six.”
Connor rubs the edge of his jaw. “You’re coming home tonight, though.”
My stomach flips at the worry in his tone, and how much I like that he calls this place my home. It’s starting to feel like one,which is as dangerous as it is alluring. I slide my mascara wand back into the tube and meet his gaze in the mirror. “Yes, I’m coming home tonight, Connor.”
“Okay.” The single word drips with relief.
I was at work when he arrived home from New York this morning, and the moment I walked through the door I had to rush to get ready for tonight. We haven’t had time to talk—not about the flowers that showed up at my work this morning or the lunch that was delivered for the entire staff. Or how his bachelor party went. He appeared in my bedroom a few minutes ago and has spent the time since watching me put on makeup, while absently petting Dewey.
I push my chair back and stand, smoothing my hands over my hips. Connor’s gaze tracks the movement, his eyes darkening. I don’t know how much of last night’s conversation he remembers after we switched from texting to a call. He was drunk, so probably not much.
My phone pings. “Lexi’s here.” Looks like any questions will have to wait. I adjust my bracelets, then grab my bag, a cardigan in case I get cold, and my shoes. “Walk me out?”
“Of course.” He puts Dewey back in his luxury hedgehog condo.
Connor is silent as we walk down the hall, though he glances at me every few seconds, like he wants to say something, ask something, admit something. But he doesn’t.
The elevator ride to the first-floor foyer is electric with tension, but I don’t break, and neither does he. After we step out, I pause to put my heels on, using Connor’s shoulder for balance. And an excuse to touch him.
Connor opens the front door. A stretch limo has pulled up in front of the stairs.
Flip’s head pops out of the sunroof. “It’s bestie party time, bride-to-be!”
“I didn’t know Flip was coming.” Connor looks both relieved and apprehensive.
“Bestie privileges mean he gets to partake in the estrogen fest.” I wave and note that much like Connor, Flip looks a little rough.
The door opens, and Callie comes bouncing toward us. The rest of my friends’ smiling faces appear at the windows as Connor holds his arms open and catches her. Lifting her off the ground, he gives her a big squeeze. “How’s my favorite goalie?”
“I get to go for dinner!”
“That’s great! Are we still meeting at the rink after to shoot the puck?” Connor asks as he sets her down.
“Yup! Roman bought me a new stick!”
“I can’t wait to see it.”
Callie takes my hand, pulling me toward the limo. She clambers back inside and pats the spot beside her.
“Please don’t feed Dred too many shots,” Connor says, leaning down to look inside.
I pat his chest. “I know my limit.”
“Doesn’t mean everyone else will.” His eyes fall to my lips.
I curve my hand around the side of his neck and feel his pulse hammering there. “Don’t worry, Connor. I’ll be a good little menace.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
“I won’t do anything to make your life more difficult than it already is,” I assure him.
“I appreciate that, but it’s not what I’m worried about.”
My heart stutters. I push up on my toes, kiss the corner of his mouth, and climb inside the limo. The entire Babe Brigade greets me with shrieks and hugs and laughter.
