Page 6 of Improper Proposal
“Still the favorite, though. And come on.” I wave my fingers toward myself. “Bring it in. You’ve all been fussing over Harper, and I didn’t even get one hug.” My gaze slides back to George’s girl.
Bobby snorts. “You got your hug when she fell into your arms,” he says, always the comedic relief. As Bobby teases, a warm blush moves into our new house guest’s cheeks. I didn’t take her for the type of girl to blush. Then again, I don’t know anything about her, so who am I to judge?
“Oh, Will,” Gramps says as he bangs his cane on the floor. “Always needing to be the damn center of attention.”
Everyone laughs again, and Harper’s mouth falls open at Gramps’s comment. I instantly envision her on her knees before me, my cock sliding in and out of that pouty mouth.
Don’t go there, Will.
“Nice to see you, too, Gramps.”
“Get over here, boy,” he says, and uses his cane to stand. He spreads his arms, and I wrap mine around him for a hug. “When are you going to settle down and find a nice girl like Harper here?”
Lashes lowered, a pink tinge on her cheek, Harper chokes on her chowder, and I gaze at her. “You okay?” I ask.
“Uh, yeah, fine, thanks.”
“Well, boy, answer the question,” Gramps says. “When are you going to bring a nice girl home?”
“And ruin his perfect reputation?” cousin Randy says, a smug grin on his face. “Not likely.”
“Perfectly shameful reputation, you mean,” Annabella says, planting a hand on her hip.
I arch a brow and zero in on her. “Oh, and what do you know about that?”
She rolls her eyes. “I do have Instagram, you know.”
Gramps bangs his cane again. “Someday the right girl will come along, and it will be all over for you, boy. You just wait and see.”
It’s not that I’m opposed to marriage, I just haven’t found the right girl—one who wants me for me, not the money in my bank, or the wealthy family I come from. I used to be embarrassed by my family’s wealth, but outside of that, we’re all independently successful, and that’s something to be proud of. Nothing was ever handed to us, and Gramps instilled a strong work ethic in all of us. I guess that’s why I have such a hard time with women who only want me for what I have.
“I think George might have found the last of the nice girl’s,” I say, and Harper seems to choke again. I bend, putting my mouth near her ear. “Everything okay?” I ask again, the sweet scent of her skin fucking with my ability to think with any sort of clarity. Sweet peach. Who the fuck smells like sweet peach, anyway?
She dabs her mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, just…ah.” One slender finger goes to her neck. “Something caught in my throat.”
My muscles tighten at the vision of my cock caught in her throat, and I resist the urge to adjust my pants. I straighten and walk around the kitchen, exchanging hugs and kisses with my extended family. When I reach Claire, she’s beaming up at me.
“Miss me?” I ask.
“Of course,” she says and cups my cheeks.
“Then can I have some of your famous chowder?” Her smile widens. “I’ve been all over the States, and no one can make chowder quite like you, Aunt Claire.”
She whacks me. “Such a sweet talker.”
I feign innocence. “Who me?”
I pull out a chair across from Harper and lower myself into it. Claire brings me a heaping bowl of chowder. I breathe in the delicious scent.
“Mmmm,” I say and take a spoonful. “I can’t remember the last time I tasted anything so good. When was the last time you tasted anything so good, Harper?” I ask her. Okay, I’m not necessarily being sexual here—yeah, I kind of am—and from the heat on her cheeks I gather she knows exactly what I’m doing.
I really shouldn’t be fucking with her like this, but I just can’t seem to help myself.
“I…ah…can’t remember the last time,” she says, her eyes locking with mine, giving me the
distinct impression that she’s talking about sex, too. My gaze roams her face, and I can’t tell whether she wants to smack the grin off my mouth or do something entirely different with it. What I do know is there is definitely more to this woman than meets the eye, and I have to say that what my eyes see, they like. They like a lot.
Claire waves her hand. “Oh, you two cut it out. It’s not that good.”
