Page 27 of If You Claim Me
Which is a joke, because my parents cut me off as soon as I signed my first pro hockey contract. “You have no idea what Mildred’s job is. She runs multiple community outreach programs, and much of the work around those happens outside regular hours.” I saw the paperwork spread out on her kitchen table. And Meems has told me all about Mildred’s work after her library visits. “Mildred gives back to her community everysingle day, in meaningful ways that take more effort than cutting a check, so maybe do some fact-checking before you insult my fiancée.”
“He’s so passionate about my work.” Mildred squeezes my arm and settles her other hand on my chest, mirth in her eyes. “Everyone is entitled to their opinion, even if it is misinformed. You don’t need to start a brawl in my honor. Especially not with your father, or in front of your Meems.”
“You’re right, darling.” I tuck a finger under her chin. “I should save my bad behavior for the bedroom.”
Her eyebrow lifts. “I think you mean the ice.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Did you now?” Her smile widens, and her eyes drop to my mouth.
I don’t think. I just give in to the overwhelming urge to find out what her lips feel like, dipping to brush my mouth gently over hers.
The shot of desire that zips through my veins isn’t unexpected.
But the spark that flickers between us is.
If I’m not careful, it could ignite and burn us both.
CHAPTER 9
DRED
Our server drops off all seventeen of Flip’s appetizers. When we eat out, he basically orders one of everything, and I pick and choose what I want while he demolishes the rest.
It’s Monday afternoon—two days post engagement party—and Flip asked to take me for lunch. Mostly I think he wants to debrief, and maybe pry for information.
“So that was some engagement party,” he says once the server has left us.
“It sure was.” I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way Connor’s mouth felt on mine. Or his comment about saving his bad behavior for the bedroom, and whether he honestly didn’t realize that’s what he’d said. Was he playing with me? Regardless, that innocent brush of lips has been living rent-free in my head for the past two days.
“His sisters told me you’re the first woman Grace has ever brought home.”
“They may have mentioned that.” Both of them. More than once.
“His parents are a little…stiff,” he hedges, feeling me out.
“They are definitely less easygoing than we are,” I agree.
He digs in to a plate of nachos. “His Meems is cool, though.”
“I adore her.” My smile is genuine.
“She adores you—and Grace.”
“He has a first name.”
“Yeah, right. Sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Meeting his family sort of puts things in perspective.”
I nod my agreement. Until the engagement party, I’ve only ever seen the media-curated view of Connor’s family, but the real thing was eye-opening. I want Flip’s thoughts though. “In what sense?”
“He doesn’t fit with them.” Flip dunks a piece of skewered chicken into peanut sauce. “Like, he’s a Grace, but he’s not really a part of them.”
“No, he’s not.”
“He’s used to being an outsider,” Flip muses.
“Yeah. He is.” I dip a cold roll into the spicy chili sauce. “I was used to that, too, until you came along and brought the Terror into my life.”
