I jolt. Is that what he’s thinking for us? I can’t ask. He’s taking you to meet his parents, Becca! That means something big. So why am I afraid one wrong move and everything will fall apart?
The door pops open to a smiling woman who must be his mom. They have the same intense blue eyes. She looks younger than I pictured, with dark brown shoulder-length hair and only a few faint lines on the fair skin of her face. I only saw her from afar in my online research. She’s wearing a soft-looking V-neck white sweater with a black pencil skirt and low heels. I’m so glad I went with a dress. “Welcome! Come in, come in.”
She steps back to let us in.
Con leans down to kiss his mom’s cheek before making the introductions.
Mrs. Rourke beams at me, her blue eyes vibrant and sparking with energy. “Nice to meet ya, Becca. So glad ya could make it.”
“Thank you for having me,” I say, my tone coming out more formal than I’d like. I’m tense. I can’t help it.
“What a beautiful dress,” Mrs. Rourke says. “Isn’t it lovely, Connor?”
“Oh, yeah, I told her that earlier,” he says, giving me a sexy smile and a wink.
My cheeks flush hot. He told me; he showed me in the mirror over the dresser; he fucked me over the dresser. I can’t make eye contact with either of them.
“Everyone’s in the kitchen,” Mrs. Rourke says, gesturing for us to follow.
I lag behind to whisper in Con’s ear, “Don’t wink at me with that sexy smile, and skip the sexy voice while we’re here.”
He kisses my cheek. “Babe, my smile and my voice are always sexy. Can’t be helped.” He insists on calling me “babe,” even though I never call him “king” like when we first talked about nicknames. It’s weird, but “babe” has a casual possessiveness to it that gives me a jolt every time. I can’t decide if I like it or not. Maybe it’s because I don’t have an equivalent nickname for him. Royal renovator is a mouthful. Oh, God. Mind out of the gutter.
“Then at least no winking, babe,” I say, trying it out on him.
He widens his eyes, not even blinking. “I’ll try really hard not to, babe.”
I laugh. I’m fully aware I sound ridiculous insisting he not wink and use his own damn sexy voice, and he’s sweet not to call me on it. He gives my hand a tug, drawing me forward through the living room. It’s a beautiful space with high ceilings, oak parquet floors, and crown molding. I always notice these kinds of details. I’d say it’s turn-of-the-century construction. The pocket doors separating the three rooms—living room, kitchen, and dining room—are open. The large kitchen in the center with a long island and stools is crowded with people talking over each other and laughing.
I get a flashback to the awkward faculty cocktail reception, where everyone seemed to know each other for years and I was on the outside. I try for a pleasant expression so I don’t immediately come off with my frosty look that seems to put some people off.
Con goes straight to a dark-haired brother with short cropped hair and a trimmed beard, standing with his arm around a striking red-haired woman. He gives the guy a handshake, bro hug combo. “Congratulations, you two.” He smiles at the woman. “Josie, welcome to the family. Hope you don’t mind a little noise.”
“I love it!” she exclaims. “Are you kidding me? I grew up an only child.” She gestures around to the noisy group. “This is what dreams are made of!” Her voice carries so loudly that the entire room goes silent. “Oops! Was I using my last-row-of-the-theater voice again?”
Everyone laughs.
Con gestures me closer and puts his arm around my shoulders, turning me to face the group. “This is Becca. Becca, everyone.”
My eyes dart from brother to brother to a pregnant woman to a few older couples, all smiling at me, looking curious.
I give them a little wave. “Hi, everyone.”
“You can do better than that, Connor,” a deep authoritative voice booms. “Proper introductions, please.” It’s the king! It has to be with that formal English and regal bearing. Con’s dad, the real king of Villroy. He’s in a navy blue suit, his thick dark brown hair streaked with gray, his face angular and clean shaven, his eyes a striking aquamarine. He closes the distance between us, and my heart pounds. I’m sorta fangirling over Con’s dad. He gave up the crown for love. A romantic king. Does it get any better than that? At the same time, I need to make a good impression and not be awkward or tense or accidentally frosty.
“Hi,” I squeak. “You must be Connor’s dad.”
He smiles warmly. “Daniel Rourke. Pleased to meet you, Becca…” He pauses, seeming to wait for me to fill in my last name. Will he be researching me?
“Edwards,” I supply.
“Becca Edwards,” he says formally. “Thank you for coming. Has anyone offered you a drink?”
“I just got here—” I start.
“Connor,” he says sharply enough that I actually tense.
Connor turns to me and drawls, “What can I get you, Becca?” He gestures to a corner of the counter where multiple bottles of wine sit alongside various sodas.
“I’d like a chardonnay, please. Or any white wine you have is fine.”
Con makes a formal bow, which I suspect is a dig at his dad’s formal tone, and goes to fetch me a glass.
“So how did you and Connor meet?” Mr. Rourke asks.
Mrs. Rourke joins us. “What did I miss?”
“Your son’s lack of manners,” Mr. Rourke replies.
She frowns. “Come on, now, that boy is the most well-mannered of the bunch. Well, to be fair, they all know the right thing to do. The question is, do they remember what we’ve taught them? That’s a whole ’nother thing, isn’t it?”
Mr. Rourke arches a brow, clearly not happy about the breach in etiquette. “Becca was about to share how they met.”
Mrs. Rourke smiles at me encouragingly, her eyes twinkling. “Do tell.”
“We met at a bar,” I say.
His parents exchange a glance before turning back to me, looking a little disappointed with my explanation. Crap. It sounds like a drunken hookup scene, and it kind of was, minus the drunk part. Oh, God. Sweat trickles down my spine, my cheeks flushing hot. They probably hoped to hear something romantic like the way they met in Paris. Con told me about it. They met at an art museum where she had an internship and he was taking a private tour. United by a love of art. Much more highbrow than meeting at a bar.
“Actually,” I croak and have to clear my throat. “It was nice the way we met because my ex had just shown up, and he was rubbing it in my face that he’d gotten engaged, and, for some reason, he brought the woman for me to meet. It was extremely awkward, as you can imagine, and then Con came to my rescue and pretended to be my serious boyfriend to make it a little more even. I was alone, waiting for someone who never showed up. Con was the hero of the evening.”
They both smile over at Con, who’s now approaching with my wine. He’s back in their good graces. He’s always been in mine.
He hands me my wine, and I smile. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Rourke looks from me to Con. “How long have you been seeing each other?”
I think back to when we first met, about to do a quick calculation, but Con replies first.
“A month,” he says, kissing my temple.
My heart squeezes, my knees weak. His tender kiss combined with the fact that he actually kept track of how long we’ve been together just undoes me. I lean against his side, smiling, and he puts an arm around me, giving me a sideways hug.
“Very nice,” Mrs. Rourke says. “I hope to see more of you around here, Becca.”
“Thank you,” I say, feeling so warm and relaxed now. I think I passed the test, and there’s no place I feel more comfortable than pressed against Con’s side.
“You should introduce Becca to everyone,” Mr. Rourke says. “And I mean individually, so she actually knows everyone’s names.”
I smile even wider. I’m in!
Con nods once at his dad and lifts a hand. “Hey, everyone, look this way and raise your hand when I call your name. Becca needs a formal introduction.”
Mr. Rourke shakes his head sadly. Mrs. Rourke hides a smile.
Con goes on. “Dylan.”
“Present,” his brother replies.
Everyone laughs. I smile and wave at him. I remember him from his wedding pictures online.
Dylan holds up his wife’s hand. “This is my beautiful pregnant wife, Ariana.”
“My daughter,” a middle-aged woman pipes up. “Hi, I’m Mrs. Bianchi, a friend of Con’s mom, and now we’re family since our kids married. Where’re ya from, Becca?”
“Queens.”
“Queens! A hometown girl, eh?” she says, looking pleased. “Not the same as Brooklyn, but close.” She smiles over at Mrs. Rourke.
“Back to the introductions,” Con says, pointing out another brother. “Jack and Riley.”
“So now we’re like one name?” Jack asks. “Geez, as soon as you get engaged, you become Rack.”
Riley grins. “More like Jiley.”
“Jiley Wourke,” they say in unison and crack up.
Connor leans down to my ear. “It’s Jack Rourke and Riley Walsh mashed together. They’re so disgustingly in love.” He straightens, his eyes warm on mine, and then he winks.
I love this man. I love his warmth, his casual acceptance of mushy-in-love couples, his easy way with me, the way he just gets me. He takes my breath away. He really is a catch. My elation over finally finding the man I want to settle down with is tempered by a stab of fear. I can’t let outside circumstances ruin what we have. Don’t think about that right now.
Con’s expression changes, becoming more serious. “You okay, babe?”
I nod, my throat clogged with emotion. I’m his babe and, yes, I do like it. I’ve never been anyone’s babe before. It’s just like when he carried me after I fell that first night we met. He sees me for the person I really am on the inside, warm with a lot of love to give, touchable, passionate. Not an ice queen.
“You know me,” a deep voice says.
I turn to Brendan now standing in front of me. “Of course, Brendan. You put in a good word for Con here the night we met.”
“That’s right.” He turns to Con and smacks his shoulder. “Where’s my thank you, bro?”
“Bite me,” Con says. “Stay in your corner.”
Brendan shakes his head, smiling. “See what I hafta put up with? I’ll let ya deal with him.”
Beast approaches and offers his hand, enveloping my much smaller hand in a firm handshake. “Glad to see ya again.”
“Ooh, me, me!” the red-haired Josie says, raising her hand. I remember her from when we first came in. “Do me next. I’m the reason we’re all here tonight. If it wasn’t for me, Sean here wouldn’t be engaged. He’d be wandering the earth, still searching for his soul mate.”
Sean gives her a tender smile. “Aww, Josie.”
Con points them out. “Josie is Sean’s fiancée, our new sister—”
“Aww, you called me sister!” Josie exclaims, rushing over to hug Con and kiss his cheek. “You’re just as sweet as your brother.”
Con smiles, looking a little embarrassed. He turns to me. “If you couldn’t tell, Josie is an actress.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Josie asks, parking a hand on her hip and tossing her long red hair. “How could she tell?”
Sean joins us. “Your voice that reaches the entire neighborhood, your bubbly personality, the expressive dramatic way you speak.”
“Well, damn,” she says, batting her eyes innocently. “I thought I was so subtle.”
I stifle a laugh. “Great to meet you both.”
“Josie just wrapped her first movie,” Sean says proudly. “You get to say you knew her when. She’s gonna be a huge star.”
“Sean!” Josie exclaims, rubbing his chest and smiling up at him. “Stop embarrassing me. It was a supporting role.”
“You can tell she hates it, right?” Sean teases.
“Few more people,” Con announces, pointing out some older couples. They all smile at me.
I wave. “Hello, everyone.”
Con turns to his dad. “Now can we go back to the party, sir?”
His dad grunts, and the party goes back to full swing, everyone talking and laughing again. Con’s mom starts taking food out of the refrigerator, and I go over to offer my help.
“I’d love that, Becca,” she says warmly. “Here, take the chopped veggies. My boys will probably skip over them, but the rest of us can enjoy. So, what do you do for a living?”
“I teach a business class at NYU on managing organizational change, and work at a coffee shop, too, just part time for the health insurance. I’m hoping to be full-time teaching next semester.”
“Con’s taking a business class at NYU.” Her brows draw together. “Actually, that sounds like the class, something about managing change. I remember I thought it was perfect for our family business.” She turns and calls to Con, who’s talking to his uncle, “Con, what was the name of that class you’re taking?”
My heartbeat roars in my ears, my cheeks flushing hot. Con catches my eye before saying to his mom, “Managing organizational change.”
“Yes, that’s what—” She points at me and stops herself. “Is she your teacher? Is that how you really met?”
“What’s this, now?” Brendan asks with a laugh. “Con, are you hot for teacher?”
Someone whoops in a low tone, and then the entire room goes quiet, everyone staring at me. Nausea rises in my throat.
Mr. and Mrs. Rourke exchange a concerned look. I can’t take it. All of my worries and fears and shame are out for everyone to judge.
I turn to go, and suddenly Con is there, his hand clamped around my wrist. “It’s not a big deal,” he says to the room. “I’m auditing the class, no grade for me. Becca’s a great teacher.”
“How great is she?” Brendan teases.
I yank free of Con’s grip and rush toward the front door, mortified. I can never show my face here again.
15
Connor
“Becca!” She’s walking toward the subway. She can’t just leave like this. It’s worse than if she dealt with the fallout. It makes it look like what we’re doing is wrong.
I go after her. “Wait!”
“No. Just let me go.” I can hear the tears in her voice.
I catch up with her a few moments later, grabbing her around the middle from behind. She goes stiff as a board. I lean down to her ear. “It’s fine. Brendan’s teasing. It’s not that bad.”
“It is bad,” she says in a strangled voice. “Your parents must think I’m a horrible person.”
“My mom was surprised because you told her we met at a bar, and then it turns out you’re my teacher. It’s a strange situation the way things went for us, but if you come back and we explain it, I promise you it’ll be fine.”
“No, it won’t. They’ll judge me.”
I turn her to face me and tip her chin up. “They won’t.”
“They’ll think I took advantage of their son,” she whispers, blinking back tears.
“They know that no one could take advantage of me. I wouldn’t let them. That’s how I was raised. I stand up for myself and everyone else I love.” I cup her cheek. “Come back. Let me stand up for you.”
She sucks in air, her eyes widening.
“I love you, Becca.”
She bursts into tears.
I pull her close, stroking her hair. “Not exactly the response I was hoping for, babe.”
She hugs me tight. “I love you too.”
“I know, but it’s damn nice to hear.”
She laughs, and I let out a long breath of relief.
Tonight went great. Well, after I explained the situation and sang Becca’s praises, saying how smart and business savvy she is, and then she jumped in to tell everyone how smart and business savvy I am, and
it was basically a big lovefest with lots of witnesses. Sure, I took a lot of ribbing from my brothers, but they kept Becca out of it after I threatened payback. They know it takes a lot to piss me off, but once there, I don’t mess around.
She stuck to my mom like glue for the rest of the night, helping her set out food, serve up drinks, and even slicing the huge Happy Engagement sheet cake and giving it out to everyone. I think Becca wanted to be part of things, but felt more comfortable doing something. I get that. I like to take action more than sit back watching others do stuff. She hit it off with Riley too. At one point, they had a killer Ping-Pong match going in the basement rec room. Not too surprising that they connected. Riley’s also a corporate type, an accountant at a prestigious firm, as well as being on the more reserved side.
Now we’re all gathered in the kitchen again, finishing up our cake.
My dad holds up his champagne glass and clinks the side of it with his fork for attention.
“Another toast,” Brendan groans. “We get it. Sean and Josie are special and we love them so much. Can we move it along?”
Dad shoots him a warning look before taking us all in. “I have an announcement.”
The room goes entirely silent, tension thick in the air. I exchange a nervous look with Dylan and do a quick check-in with Jack, Sean, Brendan, and Beast. No one has a clue what this is about. Last time we had a big announcement at a family party, we had the shock of my uncle retiring and leaving the construction company to me and my brothers. Complete surprise. None of us prepared for it in the least. Now what?
Mom smiles. “Your dad’s very excited about this. Go on, honey.”
Dad takes a deep breath. “We’re invited to Christmas on Villroy.”
Josie lets out a whoop, and Riley lets out her own version, saying, “Wow, so exciting!” They’ve never been to the palace.
I’m not so excited. Neither are my brothers from the look of them and their complete nonreaction. This could get dicey. My parents will want us all to be together for Christmas. My brothers and I have been to Villroy twice, once for our cousin Adrian’s wedding, which was excruciatingly uncomfortable since it was the first time our family had returned to Villroy since the exile, and then for Dylan’s wedding, which was heavily covered by the press. Both formal occasions, both kinda stressful. We had to be on our best behavior, best manners, best dress. The riffraff sons of the exiled king could not embarrass him. My dad has high standards from his royal upbringing. It’s not exactly fun to put it mildly, though we did have a good time playing poker with our cousins late at night.
Rogue Angel (The Rourkes, Book 10) Page 15
