by Layla Hagen
"What are you doing with this boy? Every time I pick him up, he wants to stay longer."
"Won't give my secrets away." Val shrugged one shoulder as she went inside the house. She reappeared carrying two plates of her delicious cheesecake.
"Val, you're killing me."
"You've been on your feet all night, woman. Indulge a little. Plus, you know what Dad used to say. Your sweatpants will never be tight if you don't wear any."
We sat at the wooden table in front of Val's house, watching Milo have fun.
"How was the wedding?" Val asked, twisting her hair into a loose ponytail. Even when she had no makeup and wore sweatpants and a white cotton T-shirt hanging off one shoulder, my sister was chic.
"Beautiful. I'm a little sad it's already over."
"Did something happen with Graham?"
"I slept with him," I whispered.
Val made a sound that had me worrying she'd swallowed her tongue. "Wow! I was not expecting that. How was it?"
"It was perfect. I didn't even know it could be so good." I laughed at Val's eager expression. I was dying to share some details, but I couldn't bring myself to talk about spicy activities with Val. I'd call Hailey later today. She'd eat it all up. I'd give her a heads-up to have popcorn ready.
"You're not going to give me any details, are you?" she asked.
"Nope."
She shook her head. "I still can't believe it."
"You put something in that perfume."
She batted her eyelashes. "That's an idea for an advertising slogan." She clapped her hands twice before drumming them on the table. My sister's mind was a dangerous place. "Oh, Lori. I'm so happy for you. You deserve this so much. "
"He's so sweet. And sexy. And perfect. He's... too much."
Val studied me while she munched on her cheesecake. "You've got it bad."
"I do," I admitted. It was scary as hell. This morning, when we'd talked so honestly, I'd been a little less scared. Now, however....
"When are you bringing him to Friday dinner?"
"What? I don't know. Why?"
"So I can check if he's got it just as bad," she said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Also to make it clear what's at stake here. If he hurts you, I will pummel him. I don't care that he's Jace's boss. I have moves, and I'm not afraid to use them. And Hailey can do a lot of damage with those heels. That's without even counting our brothers."
I undid my messy bun and trying to smooth my fingers through my hair. "Slow down, kick-ass lady. Don't scare him away yet. You were so laid back about it before the rehearsal dinner. Why the change of gears?"
"Well, that was before... this." She gestured at my face. "Goofy expression, dreamy eyes. This isn't just fun for you."
"You know I can kick ass too if needed, right?"
"Of course, but it never hurts to have backup. Now, let's talk about fun stuff. In the mood for some sexy lingerie shopping? I know an excellent website."
"Why are you giving me dangerous ideas while we eat cheesecake?"
"Because every dangerous idea seems like a good one when you're eating cheesecake."
I laughed, wholeheartedly agreeing. I didn't know if it was something in the cake, or the fact that sitting with my sister and eating something delicious made me relax too much, but Val had always been able to talk me into buying the craziest things over cheesecake.
"Text me the website, and maybe I'll buy something later."
She rubbed her hands, pointing to the bench on her porch, where her laptop stood. "If you want us to look together, I won't say no."
"Nope. Punishment for giving me dangerous ideas in the first place."
Her phone chimed, and she checked it quickly. "Hailey and Jace are on their way."
"On a Sunday? How did you manage that?"
"I told her I baked a cheesecake, of course. Jace was with her, so now they're both dropping by."
They both arrived a short while later, and I instantly knew something big had happened. Hailey was radiating. Her hazel hair was styled in loose curls. She was wearing a yellow maxi dress, a denim jacket, and big silver hoops for earrings.
"What gives, sis?" Val asked. Hailey placed her hands on her hips and twirled once.
"I, fellow Connors, am no longer a business consultant. As of next week, I'll be working with a PR firm here in LA, rubbing elbows with Hollywood's best."
"Wow, congratulations," I said.
"Why didn't you say anything on Friday?" Val asked.
"I got the signed contract back this morning. Didn't want to say anything until all T's were crossed and all the I's dotted."
"You knew?" I asked Jace.
"No. Dropped by to try and talk her into brunch, and that's when I found out."
Sometimes I thought our youngest sister had come into the world with that shield of badassness wrapped tightly around her. When we were little, she'd occasionally let me actually be a bigger sister and clean her messes. As an adult, she typically never let anyone know she had a problem until she solved said problem. Case in point: she hadn't told anyone she'd even applied for this job.
I was happy Hailey had switched from consulting. The job had required her to fly out on location from Monday to Thursday, so she'd lived in LA only part time. She never missed Friday night dinners, but she was typically so exhausted that she slept through her weekends, not allowing for any shenanigans, whether of the sisterly variety or not.
"PR firm?" Val whistled with appreciation. "Hats off to you."
"It'll be a lot of fun, but also a lot of work. The rich and famous get into messes often enough. My boss said a lot of new clients come to us because they like the company's track record with getting A-listers out of hot water."
"Sounds stressful," I chimed in.
"What can I say? I thrive in high-pressure environments. And dealing with an A-list scandal is at least fun, compared to spreadsheets and PowerPoint presentations about Key Performance Indicators and Liquidity and so on."
"So... since you'll be rubbing elbows with celebrities, can you get me and Val tickets to the Awards? Oscars, Emmys, Grammys?" I asked, batting my eyelashes.
"Are you kidding? Yes, yes, and yes. We've been dreaming of going to award events since we were kids. We're going even if I have to smuggle you two in."
"Atta girl," I said, hugging my baby sister at the same time as Val.
"Girls, aren't we getting a little too old for Connor sandwiches?" Hailey asked, sounding out of breath, but hugging us back just as hard. Dad had coined the term on a memorable spring morning, when he'd found all six of us trying to hug Mom.
"No, definitely not," Val said. I squished Hailey harder.
Jace watched us with a devilish grin. "Well, sister dearest, I'm happy you joined the dark side. Now I can finally let the shit hit the fan. I'll have someone to get me out of it."
"You'd better never, ever require my services, or those locks of yours will suffer," Hailey said.
"That's how they teach you to solve a crisis?"
"No. I save those techniques for people sharing my DNA."
***
Milo and I left after everyone had another slice of cheesecake, and I'd pulled Hailey aside to spill the details from last night. Milo's energy was endless. I took him to Universal Studios every few months, so I already knew the ins and outs of the place. It was crowded, but we had Front of the Line Passes. We visited our usual spots, the theme worlds of Jurassic Park and Harry Potter.
Milo's favorite attraction was the one I liked least. The Revenge of the Mummy boasted an indoor roller coaster. We went on it twice. My stomach behaved during the first ride, but lurched into my throat during the second one. It remained there even after we climbed off.
We were heading to a puppet show booth when my phone vibrated in my bag. I prayed it wasn't one of the vendors informing me some of their inventory was missing. It had happened on two occasions, and we'd never known who'd been the culprit: a staff member or a guest. Vendors liked
to blame the servers, but I'd seen guests eyeing the decorations with a little too much interest. The strangest things could happen.
Speaking of strange things, my stomach cartwheeled right back into its place when I noticed Graham had sent me the message.
Graham: Lori, I can't stop thinking about you. I'd love to see you and Milo this evening and spend time with both of you. I'll probably screw up often, and I want you to tell me when I do—it's the only way I can improve. It's a leap for both of us, but I want to get to know you and Milo better.
Graham didn't wear his heart on his sleeve, so I appreciated his text even more. I tried forming a good enough answer, but my mind was blank.
Lori: I'm speechless.
Graham: :-) No pressure. It took me an hour and three drafts to write that. Are you still at Universal Studios?
Lori: Yes. We're heading to a puppet show. Taking a break from the roller coasters, thank God. I don't think my stomach will recover until dinner.
My phone buzzed again, but I couldn't read the message right away, because we'd arrived at the booth. There was a lot of commotion, with six- to-nine-year-olds crowding in front of the counter, and parents standing in the back, eyes on their offspring. Milo slipped his hand out of mine, joining the crowd of kids. Only after I stood in the back with the rest of the parents did I glance at the phone. An electrifying buzz had taken residence in my chest.
Graham: What are you doing for dinner?
The buzz extended to my fingertips. I typed back quickly, not giving myself time to overthink anything.
Lori: I was planning to take him for a burger and fries.
His answer came a minute later.
Graham: I make some mean burgers. I'm good with fries too. If you prefer, for now we can just say I'm your friend, or Jace's boss. I promise not to kiss you in front of Milo ;)
The boldness of him, I swear. I was feeling like a girl with a crush on her prom date.
Lori: We're in. Does 7 work for you? Want to come by our house, or should we come to yours?
Could I have been more cautious? Maybe. Was there a chance this would lead to heartbreak? Definitely. But I wanted this more than I'd wanted anything in my life.
Graham: 7 is perfect. I'll come to yours. Text me the address.
Chapter Seventeen
Graham
Milo and I bonded over soccer. He'd started firing questions the second Lori opened the door. He showed no sign of stopping while they gave me a tour of the two-bedroom house. The kitchen was separated from the dining area by a sliding wall made out of stained glass.
"And I thought I'd heard every soccer-related question," Lori murmured as we took the dinner ingredients from out of the shopping bags. I only needed Lori to provide me with salt, pepper, and oil.
She smacked her forehead. "I ran out of olive oil the other day. There's a convenience store one block away."
"Want me to go?"
"Mooom, please don't make Graham go. I have to talk with him about the foul in the last game." Milo was perched on a stool, clasping the edges with both hands.
"I'll go. It's close," Lori said.
"I'll get started here."
After she left, Milo hopped off his chair, leaning against the counter while I was slicing potatoes. His soccer knowledge was impressive.
"Can I have orange juice?" he asked when he paused for a breather.
"Sure," I said automatically... but then I wondered if I should have given it more thought, because Milo kept glancing over his shoulder at the entrance door while he took the orange juice out of the fridge, as if he was sneaking around.
He put the carton back right after he poured himself a glass, which he asked me to rinse after he drank it. I became even more suspicious. Somehow, I didn't think seven-year-olds tidied up after themselves unless they wanted to cover their tracks.
"Do you go to the stadium to watch every game?" he asked.
"Not all of them. We could go together sometime. If it's okay with your mom."
"Can-I-have-popcorn-while-we-watch? And-ice-cream?" he asked, all in one breath it seemed. Were those trick questions?
I didn't know what the protocol was, but common sense dictated I should ask Lori first before committing to anything. Said common sense flew out the window when Milo put his hands together as if in a prayer. How much harm could some popcorn and ice cream do?
"Pleaaase."
Then he widened his eyes. How could I not say yes to that? I had to ask Lori.
"Sure."
By the time she returned, I'd already sliced all the potatoes and the oven was the right temperature.
"You've had orange juice," she exclaimed the second she saw Milo. Turning to me, she explained, "Ground rule: no sugary drinks allowed in the evening."
"Duly noted," I said.
Milo's grin was contagious. That little marauder had me in the palm of his hand. He'd charmed me faster than even his mother had.
"Milo, go wash your hands and then set the table," Lori instructed. Milo left the room without arguing. I couldn't help smiling.
The corners of Lori's mouth twitched. "He played you."
"No, he didn't." I tried to hold my ground, but hey, she'd busted me, so why not man up and admit I'd been played by a seven-year-old? "How could you tell? He put the carton back in the fridge and I washed the glass."
"Never wipes the corners of his mouth. They were a little orange."
"By the way, I also agreed to buying him ice cream and popcorn when I take you both to a game."
"I was gone fifteen minutes. How did the shit hit the fan so quickly?"
"Babe, his eyes were this wide." I held out my fingers like goggles in front of my eyes to demonstrate.
"Ah, he brought out the big guns. You'll grow immune to it."
Didn't seem likely. Milo had me wrapped around his little finger. But I didn't want to waste time challenging her assumption. I had other things on my mind. I glanced over my shoulder to confirm that Milo wasn't on his way in. We were in the clear. I backed Lori against the counter.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm about to kiss you. Have a problem with that?"
She wiggled her ass a little. "Not at all."
I brought her sweet face close to mine and sealed my mouth over hers. This was heaven. She was my heaven. I'd seen her this morning. How could I need her so much already? At this stage, we were just supposed to get to know each other better. I was supposed to take her out, show her and Milo a good time, but not go around promising him things, bonding with him. My rational side was warning me that I was already in too deep with Lori, that I should stomp the brakes. My instincts bulldozed over my rational side. Holding her in her kitchen and kissing her was exactly what I wanted to do.
"Stop that sound," she whispered as she pulled back.
"What sound?"
"I'm not sure. Was it a growl? Was it a groan? Sexy as hell, anyway. Makes me want to climb you."
"Jesus, Lori. How d'you expect me to control myself when you say that?"
"Maybe I don't want you to control yourself." She gave me a sassy smile, but moved away as we heard Milo gallop through the house.
"What are all those herbs for?" she asked while Milo set the table. He was proficient enough that it was clear he did it quite often. I was impressed by Lori's education skills. You wouldn't have caught me dead doing a chore at his age.
"Thyme and oregano. They're great with fries."
"And what kind of cheese is this? Cheddar?"
"No. Something better. You'll see."
"You should be a chef," she said.
"It's my hobby."
"You're a pro at it."
"I considered going to culinary school in my twenties, after college." The buns were almost roasted. Everything else was ready.
"What made you change your mind?"
"I loved the club more than cooking. I worked there straight after college. When my grandfather died, my father took over. He'd never worked before, so he
made a mess of things, nearly bankrupted the club. He convinced Nana to put up the restaurant as collateral for another debt of his. She nearly lost it. That happened about three years ago. It's when I took over, before Dad could do more damage."
"Why do I get the impression you don't get along with your dad?"
"Because I don't. I didn't get along with my grandfather either. He put Nana through a lot with his cheating. Dad didn't do much better in that department."
"How did you save the club and the restaurant?"
I hesitated. "I had a trust fund from my grandfather. I hadn't used it before on principle, and it was enough to get out of trouble."
What was it about this woman that made opening up so effortless? I usually changed the subject when asked about this, but with Lori, I didn't want to hold back or pretend. I wanted to show her all sides of me. And if she didn't like them? Better to find out now than later.
Using my trust fund to bail out the restaurant and club had driven a deep wedge between me and Elizabeth. She didn't speak to me for five weeks after I told her.
She'd always pestered me to use the trust fund for our own benefit, even though we had more than enough money. But we'd always had wildly different opinions of what "enough" was.
"That was clever," Lori said. There was no judgment in her tone, but that could change in time. For now though, she seemed to like the man I was. It made me want to back her against that counter and kiss her until she begged for more. She winked and blew me an air kiss when Milo wasn't looking. Sassy woman. I'd show her who was in charge here as soon as dinner was over.
***
Lori
The cheese was to die for. Seriously. The fries too. During dinner, Graham and Milo dove right back into their soccer talk. Graham answered every question in detail, and they'd been debating a penalty for the past five minutes. I loved that Graham paid attention to what Milo was saying, instead of just pretending to. People thought kids didn't notice, but they did.
"We have fries left," I announced once we'd cleared the plates.
"I want more fries," Milo said.
"Give me a minute. I have a trick." Graham rose from his chair and headed to the kitchen. I couldn't spy on what he was doing through the colored glass, but I thought I heard the oven door open and close. A few minutes later, he set fries with melted cheese on the table. They were divine.