Page 35 of I Choose You
Claire
The look in my mother’s eyes was ice-cold, apparently not a fan of our display. My father stood next to her, holding his bourbon, disappointment written all over his face. Will’s eyes narrowed before a smile slowly spread across his face. He looked like the Cheshire cat fromAlice in Wonderlandas he sized up Reid. Whatever delusion was in his head that he could hold a candle to Reid in any capacity was ridiculous. The moment I felt Reid’s strong body against mine, I knew there was no scenario where Will came out on top. Courage, loyalty, compassion, strength, attractiveness… Reid was miles ahead on all counts.
“Lovely. If you’re all done there, are you ready for that drink now, Claire?” Will asked.
“No, thank you. It was good to see you, Will.” I spun on my heels and stalked off from all of them. Seconds later, I heard footsteps behind me. Reid pulled my chair out for me, but instead of taking a seat next to me, he lowered close to my ear.
“I’ll be back in five minutes. I’m not taking my eyes off him.I won’t let him anywhere near you.”
I swallowed thickly, my throat too tight. “Don’t worry. He won’t want to cause a scene. He’ll keep his distance.”
Reid nodded, his eyes already scanning the crowd for Will. A few minutes later, he was back, two glasses of wine with him. Reid pulled his chair closer to mine, sitting so close to me our legs didn’t have an inch of space between them. He tried to lean back in his seat, but the fit of the suit jacket was restricting him. He took it off and draped it over the back of the chair, grunting and grumbling about how tight it was.
His fingers played with the ends of my hair, caressing my shoulder where his arm was draped around the back of my chair. My body leaned into his touch imperceptibly, my skin tingling with awareness and my head foggy with the lingering feel of his lips on mine.
“Is this alright?”
“Yeah.” I smiled at him.
What was going through his head right now? Was he playacting to make a statement to Will to back off? Was that all the kiss was about? A statement? Claiming me as his in front of my parents and my ex-boyfriend just so that I wouldn’t have to put up with their harassment for the night?
It didn’t take long for our personal bubble to burst as others started to take their seats around the table. My parents were seated next to me, and along with them, my father’s partner in his law firm, his wife, and their two sons made up our table of eight. Luckily, no Will.
As soon as my mother sat down, the comments started.
“Darling, is that a wrinkle I’m seeing by your eye? It just goes to show you how fast time is going by. You’re well into your thirties now, Claire. You need to start thinking aboutsettling down.”
“Thank you, Mother. I’ll keep that under advisement.”
“It isn’t just you that’s affected by your choices, you know. A reporter was asking your father just the other day when he thought he would be a grandfather. Who he can pass his legacy down to since you were so uninterested in it.”
“I’m not going to have children just so Dad can have a progeny, Mom.”
“I know. I’m just saying, these things affect him too. And you’re not getting any younger.”
“Thank you for that,” I replied curtly. Reid’s fingers brushed against my leg, letting me know he was here for me. He stabbed his fork into the salad like he thought he was spearfishing.
She continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “And you can’t be a mother living out of a suitcase in some no-name town hours from home. Will is a good find, Claire. Think hard before you pass that up. You can have a secure future, but only if you make the right choices. If you don’t lock that down with Will, someone else will. And you’ll be in your mid-thirties with only a history degree and a suitcase for company,” she said. “You need to trust that I know what’s best for you, Claire.”
I let her remarks slide off me, smiling brightly when the photographer came to our table and engaging politely when people wandered over to talk to my father, the picture of a perfect daughter. The perfect family.
“You let me know when, and we’ll blow this popsicle stand,” Reid growled in my ear.
The rest of the meal came out, course by course, and the motherly comments didn’t end.
“How was your dinner, Claire?” she asked as the entréeplate was being taken away.
“Very good, Mom. The Howsers did a great job with the event,” I said.
“Yes, they did. And Reece”—she glanced around me to look at Reid—“how was your dinner?”
“It’s Reid,” I corrected sharply.
Reid brushed his hand on my knee. “It was excellent. Thank you for asking, Mrs. DeLuca.”
“I’m sure a dinner like this is a novelty for someone like you,” she said to Reid, a smile plastered on her face. “Claire has been brought up in this environment her whole life. She understands how important these events are to cultivating the relationships needed in life.”
I snapped.
