Page 12 of Dream Girl Drama

RISING FROM HERstool in front of the harp and walking to the dining room was a challenge. Her legs weren’t working like they normally did. Not at all. Why would they be? She’d just found out that her soon-to-be stepbrother and the man she’d kissed passionately on the golf course just over an hour ago were one and the same.

And oh, stranger things had happened in this corner of the world. There were only so many blue-blooded rich people in this neck of Connecticut and they all insisted on marrying eachother. Rumors of kissing cousins were not totally uncommon. It’s not like she and Sig had been aware of their impending connection at the time he kissed the face off her. It could be their secret, right? No one ever had to find out.

Except... the fact that she’d never be able to kiss him again was positively terrible. In the short time they’d spent together, Sig had made her feel more than any maneverhad. She’d been breathless about seeing him again later. Sneaking out and making love with this rough-and-ready hockey player who said things likesit on my face. But who also looked at her like she might be hiding angel wings beneath her clothes.

Sig sat directly across from her now with lines of strain around his mouth and eyes, his fist curled tightly around a fork. Staring at her beneath drawn brows. They needed to talk. For some reason, she had this overwhelming belief that he’d know exactly what to do. She couldn’t imagine this man being uncertain of anything.

“Pancetta and pear puff, Ms. Clifford?” asked their chef, Yuri.

She leaned back to give the chef access to her place setting. “Oh yes, please! Thank you.”

A smiling Yuri used a silver tong to place the puff pastry onto Chloe’s plate. Pancetta and pear puffs were her favorite. With her stomach twisted in knots, she wouldn’t be able to eat, but she didn’t want to be rude when the chef had gone to such an effort.

Chloe realized she was staring without blinking at Sig, her lungs having ceased to operate. Commanding herself to breathe, she dragged her attention toward Harvey and Sofia who were laughing with each other at the corner of the banquet table.

It didn’t escape her notice that Harvey was sitting at the head.

Just like that?

The whirlpool that had become her stomach turned faster.

“Harvey, dear. We are ignoring our children,” Sofia admonished with a grin, batting her fiancé on the arm. “And after we brought Sig all the way here from Boston. In a car that apparently couldn’t make the journey!” She picked up her drink and swirled the ice around slowly. “One would assume a professional athlete might arrive in something a little more ostentatious, like... oh, I don’t know. A yellow Lamborghini.”

Briefly, Chloe widened her eyes at Sig in what she hoped he interpreted as an apology. She wished she could tell Sig that her mother didn’t mean to be condescending or backhanded with her compliments, but Sofia’s barbs were often more tailored than her couture wardrobe.

Sig replied, “My truck has been with me through a lot. Been loyal to me since I turned sixteen and I won’t reward her for that by sending her to a scrapyard.” Sig cleared his throat and attempted to stop looking at Chloe, but he couldn’t manage it any more than she could stop staring at him. “Anyway, light blue is more my color.”

Not... because of her eyes.

Right?

No.

He wouldn’t dare. Not after finding out they were going to be related by marriage.

“If I had my pick of cars,” Chloe said, “I would choose one of those big old Cadillacs that looks like a boat going down the road. Some of the seniors at the club drive them.”

“Why?” Sig asked, his tone amused, but his expression... not. At all.

“If I got into an accident in one of those ships on wheels, I wouldn’t even feel it. The other car would probably just bump right off.”

Sofia laughed, long and loud. “And that, dear Chloe, is why you have a chauffeur.”

Heat stained her face. Briefly, she looked at Sig to clock his reaction. No change, apart from a deep groove forming between his brows. “Do you want to learn to drive, Chloe?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it. Not in a while. But...” She looked back over her shoulder toward the front of the house, as if she could see his truck parked in the driveway. “Yes, I think I would. Very much.”

“We’ll stick with having you driven by a professional,” Sofia said, dismissing the idea with a flap of her hand. “Sig, how do you find Boston?”

“On a map, usually.” He ignored the resulting laughter from their parents, keeping his gaze locked on Chloe. In fact, he didn’t seem to care at all that his overt attention might start to become noticeable. “When did you say you’re getting married? Is there already a date in mind?”

“Ah! Well.” Sofia clutched her drink close to her chest and looked adoringly at Harvey. “We’re angling for spring, of course.”

“So, roughly... eight months from now,” Sig supplied.

“Yes,” Sofia answered. “That should give me enough time to convince my friends to return from abroad and suffer through our glitzy little affair, don’t you think, Harvey?”

“You could convince the moon to become the sun, sweetheart.”

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