“I’m good. Just dinner with your parents, that’s all. Not a big deal.” She clears her throat and grasps my hand quickly in a tight grip when the front glass doors open.
“I have you,” I whisper into her temple, and plaster a smile on my face before turning towards James as he holds the door open for us to enter.
You would figure I would have a key to the house that I grew up in, but no. They want their butler to open the door to guests, even their own son.
“Welcome home, sir. Your parents are dining already. Miss, may I take your coat?” James takes mine and waits for Kat as she shrugs out of her long coat, handing it over with a trembling hand.
It’s the only way to tell she’s nervous. Her face is completely calm with a small smile gracing those plump lips I love to kiss and devour until she’s breathless. James turns on his heels and starts walking towards the dining room with us in tow.
I really don’t want to be here, but the choice was taken away, because my parents really don’t give up. They would keep bugging me, blowing up my phone, and I thought it was best to get this over with. It’s going to be a quiet, painful dinner, because my parents don’t understand people who don’t reek of money. We pass the foyer, study, and sitting room while she looks around with wide eyes at my childhood home that doesn’t show I grew up here. My parents love me, I know this because they want the best for me, but they’ve never understood that I’m chasing my own dreams. She’ll notice that there aren’t any game pictures or family vacation photos, but there is the occasional school photo in an elite academy uniform.
“Granger,” she whispers out of the corner of her mouth, grabbing my jacket lapel and pulling me down to her level. “It’s cold here, not as cold as my father’s home, but I don’t think I’m going to like your parents,” she tells me seriously, and something inside my chest eases because she can feel it too—how empty and yes, cold.
A home should be filled with warmth and memories, a way to remember that you are loved for who you are. I know Kat is the type of woman that once she finds someone to love…she’ll put her whole heart in and make a home. Instantly, jealousy tears through my body at the thought of her with another man, of some guy getting to watch her throw her head back and laugh with that warm chuckle that makes me think of hot days and sweet iced tea. Who wouldn’t want a woman like that?
I stop in the hallway and place a hand on her arm before entering the dining room. I lean down and nuzzle her neck because I’m unable to fucking help myself. “Have I told you how perfect you are?” Do I give a hell that I’m sappy as fuck? I’ll own that shit. This girl does something to me, and yeah, that scares me.
“I'm less than perfect, but thank you for seeing me that way. My stomach seems to always flutter with butterflies when I’m around you,” she says truthfully, placing her fingertips on her stomach as if to stop them. “About last night—” My lips descend onto hers before she can even finish that sentence.
Last night, it felt real, and even though we didn’t touch, I swear I fucking touched her in every way that matters. Can a man move on after being betrayed and burned so badly that something died inside of him? When a woman touches your heart and makes it start beating again, do you give up on her and let her go? Or do you start placing your trust into her hands and hope like hell that she doesn’t burn you alive? My own feelings confuse me. I haven’t ever felt this way about anyone, even when Victoria dropped the baby news on me. How can she fall for me, when I haven’t been completely truthful with her and shared a piece of myself that feels lost?
“Another time, Princess. Just be here with me in the now, and we’ll figure it out when we’re ready,” I croak out a little desperately. I’m scared once I open up to her and lay my shit on the table, she’ll start running and never look back.
“Okay, I can wait. We don’t need to rush anything.” She smiles softly and arches up with her lips puckered. “Kiss?” She points to her lips, and with an eye roll—but secretly pleased—I kiss her with a chuckle.
Someone clears their throat in front of us, and we break apart, Kat blushing brightly as she turns slowly to face my father. Blake Wilder, a lawyer who never loses a case and a powerful man who owns law firms all over the United States, stands there with his grey brow raised and his lips in a tight line of disapproval.
“Son. If you're done making out with your
