“Let’s stay here, Rory. I was serious about spending the weekend in bed with you,” he said, knowing that even if they stayed that he wouldn’t be able to spend the entire weekend in bed with her.
Andrew was getting worse and he didn’t know what he should do. There was no one that he could turn to and no one to share this burden with. He’d promised to keep his mouth shut and that’s exactly what he was going to do even as it was slowly killing him inside. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. Every day was like a brand new level of hell. If only Andrew wasn’t so hell bent about being stubborn, but the bastard wouldn’t even listen to him or take a chance for him. That ass**le was dying and he wouldn’t even take a f**king chance. God help him, but Connor hated him for it.
“What’s wrong?” Rory asked softly, reaching up and ran her fingers down his jaw, instantly calming him.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he lied, turning his head and pressed a kiss against the tips of her fingers as they moved down his jaw. He wished he could tell her what was going on, ease some of his own pain, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to her and he wouldn’t break the asinine promise that he made to Andrew. He owed his friend that much at least.
“If you’re not ready in ten minutes we’re coming in!” Johnny yelled, making Rory roll her eyes and forced him to bite back a groan at the reminder that he promised to spend an entire day with Rory’s brothers and the rest of her extended family.
Oh, joy.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like her cousins, he actually did. He’d only met a dozen of them so far, but all of them were pretty good guys. They were arrogant as hell and some of them liked to call him the “pretty boy”, which he thought was a bit screwed up since he hadn’t met one single Bradford that couldn’t pass for a GQ model. Then again, being called pretty boy was a hell of lot better than being referred to as the cry baby. He hadn’t cried and every time he pointed that out he earned pitying looks and condescending remarks.
Bastards.
The problem was actually Rory’s brothers and father. Since news of their engagement spread like wildfire all over town, her father hadn’t said one single word to him, not one. Not that the man was normally a chatter box, but the way he watched his every move when he didn’t think that Connor was looking was a bit eerie. He just wasn’t sure that he could deal with the glares for a whole day when he barely survived it for five hours fishing every Sunday.
Her brothers were a whole other problem. He really wished that they would cut the shit and kick his ass and get it over with already. Their murderous glares and bullshit warnings about watching his back were getting tiresome. They sent him text warnings at all hours of the day. When they were fishing or didn’t want Rory and their father to hear what they were saying, they whispered their warnings or mouthed their threats. They even went so far as to send him drinks when he was at the bar just so they could write down exactly what they wanted to do to him on a cocktail napkin using stick figure illustrations to explain it better just in case he missed the fact that they were dying to kick his ass.
The only thing that wasn’t clear to him was why they hadn’t kicked his ass. They were obviously dying to kick his ass. He just didn’t know what was stopping them. If he wasn’t so damn worried about Andrew, getting this project finished and trying not to screw this up with Rory, he would probably try and find out, but right now he just didn’t have the time or energy to really care.
“You better not be touching our sister, ass**le!” Bryce yelled, sounding close to killing someone.
“Go away! We’ll be down in twenty minutes!” Rory yelled back, sounding aggravated as she stormed into her room and he really couldn’t blame her.
When her brothers weren’t trying to warn him off, they were harassing the hell out of Rory as they tried to talk some sense into her. It wasn’t working. At least, he hoped that it wasn’t working. He didn’t want to lose her, not now, not when he was a mere three months away from making her his.
She was marrying him. Rory James was going to marry him and he couldn’t wait. He knew that if they finished the project tomorrow that she’d marry him. It killed him to have to wait, but he wasn’t going to rush this and screw everything up. She needed him to prove to her that he loved her and he would do just that, but the moment that the project was over, she was marrying him.
“We need to get going, because the faster that we get dressed, the faster we can put some space between us and my brothers for a few hours,” Rory said, not sounding any happier than he was about spending the day with her family.
“Okay, baby. I’ll go get dressed,” he said, giving up on trying to talk her out of going and heading for her patio.
“You really should just leave some stuff here, Connor,” Rory pointed out with a shrug as she pulled on a pair of light gray lacy panties which he’d really like to tear off with his teeth, but unfortunately for him, they didn’t have time.
He cursed softly as he watched Rory continue to get dressed. He’d been avoiding this kind of thing since he decided to drop the subject of selling her house. Truth be told, he’d been hoping to avoid talking about this sort of thing until after they were married and it was time to move her into his house and stake a “For Sale” sign in her front yard.
“I’ll think about it,” he said, hoping the vague answer would be enough for her to drop it.
“Okay,” she said with another careless shrug as she focused on pulling a shirt on, reminding him why he loved this woman so damn much. There was no drama, no pouting, no whining to get her way. She hated that bullshit almost as much as him, and that made him breathe a little easier because he knew when it came time for her to make some changes that she would do them without a problem. Rory was a smart girl, she’d realize that selling her house and merging her business with his would be the smart thing to do.
“I’ll meet you outside in ten minutes,” he said, moving once again towards the patio door.
“Five minutes! You have five minutes!” Johnny yelled from the other side of Rory’s bedroom door, earning a sexy eye roll from Rory.
“Ten minutes,” Rory said with a wink.
Fifteen minutes later he was leaning back against his truck, waiting for Rory and ignoring her brothers.
“You’re f**king dead,” Johnny said.