“And I’m there to help you with the being happy part?”
Shane sets my hand down on my leg, placing his much larger hand over it, as his fingertips tickle the inside of my knee.
“Yes. And the staying calm no matter what happens part.”
“Captain, I accept this mission and everything it entails,” he quips. “Don’t worry, we’ll have a wonderful time. I can pretty much guarantee it.”
“Wait. Pretty much? Just pretty much? And here I thought you were a professional party guy.”
“Hey, the thing about unforeseen circumstances is that they are unforeseen. If a meteor hits the hotel tomorrow, that’s not my fault.”
We laugh together all the way to his truck, as he let his hands roam everywhere while helping me in. As soon as he starts driving, I can barely stop myself from climbing into his lap again right then and there.
Is it natural for the body to stop listening to the mind when you’re falling in love? It seems extremely strange.
“I’ll just swing by the shop to grab those lamps,” Shane says as he turns onto the street.
He’s right, I guess it wouldn’t be safe to leave them in the open back of the pickup during dinner.
He dashes into the shop to grab them, leaving me alone for a moment to sit quietly in his truck and look around. It’s spotless, except for a bit of boot dust under his seat.
A quick glance inside the glove compartment reveals a stack of receipts and a pen, a flashlight, and forty dollars in fives.
I would never read the receipts, and I don’t need to. I’m positive they’re just gas and business expenses.
Somehow, I know that Shane isn’t the type of guy to have any secrets. He’s an open book. A quiet book, with thick paper and an elegantly simple cover.
It annoys me to think back on something Glen said and to realize that he’s right, though. As I look at the large building, I realize that it really is a huge chunk of property in an up and coming neighborhood.
I’ve never shared Dad’s interest in investments and real estate wheeling and dealing, but over the years you can’t help but pick up a few tidbits.
The building is rarely the point, unless it’s something historical that is not permitted to be torn down. It’s all about the land.
Years ago, the saying was that in real estate the only thing that mattered was, “Location, location, location.” Apparently nowadays it’s more like, “Location, location, investors.”
Shane sets the box in the back of the truck and jumps in beside me. His eyes do that little adorable crinkle thing at the corners as he leans in to plant a long, slow kiss on me.
I’ve never been so aware of how my lips are apparently connected to my spine. I feel his kisses everywhere. I almost want to take him to a lab to analyze how he manages to do that.
He pulls away much too soon. “Let’s get you home before we start getting ideas.”
“I think I’d like ideas,” I pout.
Shane wags his finger at me, then blows me a kiss and pulls the truck out smoothly, driving to my place in no time.
I’m slightly surprised when he helps me out of the truck, then grabs the box to carry it to the door.
“Do you want me to help put the shades back on?” he asks.
“Are you up to meeting my family?”
He half shrugs. “I’ll be meeting them tomorrow night anyway, right? Unless you want your date to stay in the kitchen with the hotel staff for the whole evening?”
“Don’t be silly.” I unlock the door and lead him inside, then through the foyer to the kitchen table. Luckily, my parents seem to be upstairs.
“Wait here, I’ll grab the shades.”
I run down the stairs to the basement, nearly slipping and breaking my neck on the last step, but I don’t want Mom to come down while Shane is there alone.
I don’t know why I’m so paranoid that she might be rude to him. She has a knack for speaking her mind with no filter, even though she often criticizes those who do the same.
As fast as I am, by the time I get the lampshades from the storage room and race back upstairs, there is a very important handshake taking place in the kitchen.
“Shane Edwards.”
“Gerald Cumberland.”
I burst in just in time to prevent any awkward pauses. “Dad, I had those lamps fixed. I figured since you and Mom had been stressed lately, this might be a peace offering.”
“Thanks, honey,” Dad says, reaching out to ruffle my hair, but I duck away, noticing Shane’s smirk.
Dad takes a look at the lamp base that had been dented. “Damn, not even a scratch. Well done.” I try not to smile as I watch my relatively tall father have to look up a few inches to meet Shane’s eyes.
“Edward’s Scrapyard and Antiques, right?”
“It’s Edward’s Antiques and Restoration now.”
“Ah, yes.”
Then Dad somehow seems to catch the vibe between Shane and I, even though we’re standing a polite two feet apart. “Well, thanks again for the great work,” he says to Shane. “I assume we’ll be seeing you tomorrow night at the party?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
“Your mother and I are going to bed,” Dad says to me. “If you two are planning on going for a swim, or shooting pool downstairs, or whatever, go ahead.”
He shakes Shane’s hand again, claps me on the shoulder, then disappears up the stairs.
Shane sputters out a dark chuckle. “He doesn’t even know me, and he’s going to leave his daughter alone with me?”
“Yeah. Once I turned nineteen, my parents completely backed off. It’s like good manners are more important than good parenting.”
“Jesus.” Shane runs a hand through his hair. “There’s no way in hell I’d leave my daughter alone with a guy my size for even a minute.”
A gang of thoughts crowd my mind all at once. Shane thinking about having a daughter. Him being over protective with her. With me. The way Shane isn’t afraid of my father in the slightest.
Before I even know it’s happening, my hands are around his neck, kissing him sweetly right there in the kitchen.
“You have no idea how much I want to take you out to that pool and grope you underwater,” he growls in my ear.
“Really?”
“Yes. Plus, you know… I like swimming.”
My tiny smack on his bicep has zero effect.
“What time should I pick you up tomorrow?” he asks.
“The party starts at seven, so maybe ten minutes to?”
He leans back to look at me carefully. “It’s going to take at least forty-five minutes to drive downtown in Saturday night traffic.”
“Yes, which means we’ll breeze in as the room is almost full. It’ll be perfect.”
“Whatever you like, sweetie.” Shane kisses me again, reinforcing that spine-lip connection until I feel exactly like a tub of ice cream about to melt down onto the marble kitchen floor.
Then he kisses my forehead. “See you tomorrow, gorgeous.”
Although I should be tired, my mind races as I wave to his truck while Shane pulls away. I need to find a much sexier dress than I’d been planning on wearing. I need to put coconut oil in the ends of my hair and wrap it up overnight.
And I need to skim the guest list so I know which family members and acquaintances to introduce to Shane so that I can get him a lot more customers as quickly as possible. I didn’t mean to overhear his mother talking about moving more product, but it sounds like he could use more business.
I should definitely try to help, just in case it's serious.
I also have to remember to go to the drugstore to pick up condoms. I’ve never needed them before, but it’s time to be a smart, safe, modern woman.
Again, just in case things get serious.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
~ Shane ~
An hour into the party, and everything is going smoothly so far, as far as I can tell. Claire was impressed by my perfectly cut
Italian suit when I arrived at her door with a small bouquet of flowers. She also loved that I drove us downtown in my other vehicle.
I don’t get many occasions to bust out my sporty little silver Porsche, and I have to admit, it was pretty satisfying to toss my keys to the valet right in front of Claire’s uptight brother. He’d looked oddly confused, which I took as a win.
I’m starting to fall into the flow of things. Meeting relatives and old family friends left and right is going more smoothly than I had anticipated. Claire’s light, bubbly laugh seems to bring everyone together.
It’s strange. She implied that her brother is the golden boy to her parents. But her aunts, uncles, and grandma Clarisse all seem to dote on Claire.
They’re all so proud that she graduated college and got a job on her own, not in her father’s corporation. They’re delighted that she has “a special new friend”. It makes me happy to see that she has so many good people around her.
Even as I was standing aside during the family photos, people made a point of chatting with me so that I was never left alone. Yes, it’s a friendly group.
“It’s been an hour,” Claire says, glancing around the room. “Appropriate for a drink now.”
Slipping my fingers through hers, we walk toward the bar that is just starting to get busier.
I know that rich people have their own customs, but who doesn’t grab a drink when they first walk into a party? Weird. Whatever.
The bartender steps close as Claire leans in, and I appreciate that he’s looking her in the eye not at her rather impressive cleavage.
I can’t stop my eyes from raking over her ass and legs as well. The little midnight blue dress is elegant, yet somehow unbelievably sensual at the same time.
“For the entire night,” Claire tells the bartender, “if either of us come to you and ask for Claire’s wine, could you please fill a champagne flute with one third champagne, one third sparkling water, and one third orange juice?”
“Absolutely, Miss. In fact, I have lime sparkling water that would give it a little extra kick, if you like.”
“Great idea,” she grins. “Thanks.”
She turns to me and explains. “I’m not a heavy drinker, but if I don’t keep a glass in my hand, people will start pushing red wine on me. What are you having?”
I skim the rather impressive selection of whiskeys and scotches and address the bartender. “Whiskey with a splash of water. Whichever is your favorite, I’ll try something new.”
The bartender nods quite seriously, but his eyes are laughing. “Smooth, or a kick in the guts?”
“Smooth, thanks.”
He pulls down a bottle with a dark green and gold label, adding the perfect chilly teaspoon of water to the rocks glass.
Claire and I take our drinks to a corner table, and instantly servers swoop in with trays of hors d’oeuvres. I take a few one-bite roast beef tarts with a potato crust that taste incredible.
“Is there a dinner?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes. “No, never, because then people are stuck at their table for an hour straight. Mom prefers constant snacks, to keep people moving around. That way people don’t sit for more than a few minutes at a time, and it promotes better circulation of all the guests.”
“Sounds like she has this down to a science,” I chuckle, taking a sip of my drink. “Holy hell, this is amazing.”
“Nothing but the best.” Claire waves her glass at me with a grin. “Speaking of which, that suit is…” Her stare feels incredible. “Seriously doing good things for you.”
My hand drops to her knee and squeezes. “Mom said it made me look like a hit man who models on the side.”
Claire bursts out laughing. “She’s right. I like your mom.”
“I’m afraid to tell you what that dress does to me,” I say slowly, letting my fingertips trail along the inside of her knee. I inch up her inner thigh just enough to make her eyelids flutter.
“By the way,” she says softly, “later tonight, I was hoping–”
The sudden clanging of glasses at the front of the room makes us turn, and I drop my hand.
Mrs. Cumberland, whom I barely met for a split second after the photo shoot, introduces her son and his darling longtime girlfriend Patrice.
The acoustics in the room are impressive, and everyone is so politely silent that the speakers don’t even need microphones.
Glen takes the floor, gushing at length at how much Patrice has improved his life. I hold Claire’s hand tightly, she smiles up at me, and listens with rapt attention to her brother’s every single word.
I take extensive mental notes. If this is the sort of thing she likes, I’ll make a point of saying all of these sweet things to her as soon as possible. I’ll just also make a point of doing it in private instead of a crowd of a hundred and twenty well-dressed socialites.
Glen takes Patrice’s hand, stepping forward as he turns to face her. “Baby, you are the light of my life. You know that there are two things that make a man incredibly happy. One is a good woman by his side. The other is making his mother mad.”
He pauses, waiting for the laughter to die down. It’s clear this isn’t his first time giving a big speech.
“So in the interest of multitasking, I’m about to do both of those things at once. Let’s change the carefully crafted theme of this pre-engagement party right now.”
Glen drops to one knee while pulling a robin's egg blue box from his jacket pocket. Patrice squeals, her hands flying up to cover her mouth.
I’m quite not sure whether this is the cheesiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, but it certainly comes close. It looks completely staged.
Glancing over to see if Claire is laughing, I’m stunned to see that she’s frozen. Her eyes are misty with tears, she’s squeezing my hand, and her lips part as she seems to stop breathing.
Looking back to where Glen is going on and on about how honored he is to have Patrice in his world, and will she please be his wife, it’s like watching a soap opera. Everyone knows precisely what’s going to happen, but the crowd seems to be holding their breath anyway.
“Yes!” Patrice squeals, fluttering her hands as she jumps up and down for a second.
Glen slips the ring on her finger and straightens up for a gigantic movie star kiss, while cameras flash from all directions.
Yup. Cheesiest real life moment ever. Checkmark.
Leaning closer to Claire, I pull a tissue from my jacket pocket and hand it to her. She seems touched that I would prepare for such a thing in advance. “Thank you,” she whispers. “Wasn’t that the most romantic thing you’ve ever seen?”
I certainly can’t tell her the truth, that I think it is tacky to do such an intimate thing in front of a crowd. “It sure was something. They seem very happy.”
Claire dabs at her eyes, her bottom lip quivering.
If this is the sort of romance and glamor that she craves, I could be in trouble. But my deep, frantic need to care for her is too strong to ignore.
The music starts up again, as everyone swarms the happy couple.
Claire tucks the tissue into her purse, leaving it on the table. “Do you mind staying here for a minute? I just have to swoop in to kiss them both. I’ll be right back.”
“Sure.”
Watching her flutter around brightly with her cousins and her new sister-in-law-to-be as they examine the ring, I wonder if I will ever be able to give her the lifestyle she clearly wants and enjoys.
“Hey there, Shane, was it?” One of Claire’s uncles drops into her chair.
“Yes. And you’re…I want to say, Carl?”
He nods, with a rough grin. I notice that most of Claire’s relatives have expressive eyes, which make them easier to read. “Got it in one. I know it’s always a pain in the ass meeting so many people at once.”
I force myself to chuckle. “Tricky business, but I’m trying.”
“So, I hear you’re the man with the giant property in the Sherbo
rne Avenue neighborhood.”
“I don’t know about giant, but I do have a shop there.”
“Yes, Glen mentioned that. Property that size is worth many millions, son.” He smiles, waving to the room around us. “Who knows, you and Claire could be throwing your own party like this soon.”
I’m not quite sure where this is going and decide to be noncommittal. “Yeah, who knows.”
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