Meant for You (The Connor Family 3)

“Will, what are you doing?”

“You’ll see. I’m not nearly done with you.”

Kissing her mouth, I tasted wine and chocolate on her lips. I could get drunk on her taste. I didn’t want to be without her taste again... without her. It was a powerful feeling, and I was sure it was here to stay. And I knew one other thing: tonight, I was going to own her pleasure.

Chapter Eighteen

Paige

“Get a grip, Ashley. You don’t see anyone else in this office moping around because one of their kids has a sore throat.” Greg was being more of an asshole than usual. He’d come into our office just as Ashley was telling me she feared she’d sent her boy back to kindergarten too early.

I opened my mouth to argue with him, but Ashley silenced me with a pleading look.

“Paige, I want a word with you. I need you on top of the water project.”

“The water project?” I blinked, trying to keep calm. That was one of our key projects this year, and as such, Greg was directly responsible for the funding. Why was he adding it to my tasks?

“Yes. Problem?”

I knew better than to argue. He was my boss after all, but I wasn’t looking forward to having yet another project on top of the ones I was currently leading. I asked him to send me all the info on it, and while I read through the reports, I kept eyeing the clock, because I was meeting Mom in the evening for a round of late-night shopping.

I wasn’t a fan of in-person shopping. I’d been addicted to ordering online ever since I got my first credit card, and the addiction had only gotten worse when speedy delivery became trendy.

However, on this lovely Thursday evening, I put on my big girl panties and went to meet Mom at the mall. She preferred to shop old school, and she needed an outfit for her and Dad’s upcoming fortieth wedding anniversary. Elsa and Miranda were joining us too, so we were making a girls’ evening out of it.

Mom arrived first.

“Let’s grab a smoothie while we wait for the girls. We promised we wouldn’t start without them,” I suggested.

Mom nodded, and we each grabbed a strawberry-pineapple combo. I was busy studying Mom, trying to visualize an outfit for her, when I realized my mother was studying me right back. She had a knowing smile that made me cower in fear. That smile usually came with life advice, whether I asked for it or, more often, not.

“How is that detective of yours?” Mom finally asked.

“He’s good. We’re good.” I was choosing my words very carefully. Any excessive display of enthusiasm on my part, and my mother would be choosing baby names and bustling into my apartment unannounced, hoping to run into Will. True, it had happened only once, five years ago, but I wasn’t about to risk it happening again. I was saving the gushing for when my sisters arrived and Mom was out of earshot, because I had a lot to gush about.

Will had not been bragging about knowing his stuff when it came to construction. He had stopped by the inn over the past two weeks, and a couple of times he even lent a hand to the handyman. And I? Well... I poured myself a glass of wine and enjoyed the view. I liked our casual get-togethers at the inn after work. We could get to know one another without the pressure of preparing for a date.

“When are you going to introduce him to us?”

“It’s early days, Mom.”

Mom waved her hand as if the tiny detail didn’t matter. “I knew your dad was the one on our second date.”

I stared at her. “You did?”

“Oh yes. He immediately charmed me.” Mom slurped from her smoothie until the cup was empty. “Every couple is different, but when the spark is there, it’s there, and you know it. Some don’t want to admit it, but they know it.” Mom got out a mirror from her bag, inspecting her hair. “My roots are showing a bit. I should make myself an appointment.”

“I remember the night you got that white strand of hair,” I found myself saying.

Mom smiled sadly. “That was a tough night. There were many tough ones. I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger. I tried to keep it together—”

“What are you talking about? You did keep it together. You’re a strong woman, Momma.”

“I wasn’t strong enough, though. I still let grief overpower me from time to time.” Her smile turned even sadder, and I wished I hadn’t brought it up. “I’m sorry.”

“Momma, you have nothing to be sorry about. You’re a strong woman, and I look up to you. I always have. We all have. I’m sorry I brought this up.”

Mom was quiet for a moment, but I knew her wheels were spinning.