Page 23 of Claim Me

“No, tomorrow,” I state before looking to Indigo for confirmation. When he shrugs, I pretend he’s fully on board and smile at my uncle. “We’re going to dinner and a movie.”

Caveman sizes me up. I don’t know why I’m worried. He can’t keep Indigo from dating me. Yet, I feel like a guy picking up his date, only to find a shotgun-toting dad pacing across the lawn.

“Do you need a chaperone?” Caveman asks with complete sincerity.

“Yes, that’s why I brought our friends and the kids along today.”

Caveman narrows his eyes, feeling me poking at him. Dot joins us and frowns at Indigo.

“Who’s going to watch the little ones while you’re out galivanting around town with my niece?”

“I’ll do it,” Caveman announces and stops giving me a dirty look. “I’ll stay home and play papa while this one woos his girl.”

Dot smiles big at her younger brother standing a foot taller than her. He rolls his eyes in response to her amusement. I know they’ll soon be ragging on each other. They’re too much alike, always seeking out drama. When they get rowdy enough, I can understand why my mom fled to the south of the city to create space between her siblings and herself.

I inch away from my uncle and aunt. Reaching out for Indigo’s wrist, I tug him toward the back of the house where our friends are entranced by a pig.

“She won’t poop in the house,” Hector tells me as soon as he sees us. “She poops in the yard.”

“She’s a dog!” Jacinda cries and starts bouncing before steadying herself so she won’t scare Tangina.

“You should get a pig,” Tack tells Bear.

“I’m getting a dog.”

“I’m the one getting a dog,” Tack mutters. “Stop copying me.”

“I’ve done everything before you. You’re the fucking copycat.”

“Shh,” Jacinda scolds the men. “Tangina needs quiet.”

Bear and Tack frown at how she confidently mangles the pig’s name. Natasha rests nearby in a chair, looking uncomfortable. Hunter circles the kids, taking pictures of them petting the pig.

Next to me, Indigo seems overly focused on my hand around his wrist.How many times have I touched him in the past? Hundreds? Thousands?Though I was simply showing warmth toward family, my affection likely meant more to him.

Glancing up at Indigo, I wonder how long he’s been attracted to me. Every conversation we’ve shared takes on a different vibe. Was he hinting at his feelings whenever we spoke? Did I miss the signals? Or did Indigo hide himself to avoid the sting of rejection?

My fingers caress his wrist, testing this attraction I feel. Do I want Indigo because I’ve gone years without a man’s interest? Is my lust spurred by this particular man?

Indigo frowns at where I touch him. His golden gaze focuses on my face. A breeze sends his patchouli-and-cinnamon scent to me. My pussy instantly clenches. I remember how incredible this man made me feel.

“What are you doing?”

“Molesting you.”

His scowl darkens before he realizes I’m screwing with him. I try to see the situation through his eyes. How he spent a long time wanting me but knowing I didn’t see him that way. Each time I touched him, did he question my intention? Has he trained himself to assume I’m only being friendly?

Or Indigo might not like my touch. He could want me without the physical stuff. Is that why he flipped out after we had sex?

“I like touching people,” I tell Indigo. “I’m affectionate.”

“We didn’t just meet. I already know that.”

“Is it okay for me to touch you?”

Indigo tugs his hand free. “I’m not a child. Don’t talk to me like one.”

“Fine, if you want adult honesty, you should know you act weird when I touch you. Is that because you don’t like it or because my touch gives you a boner? What’s happening here?”

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