I just nod and step back, not wanting Connor to catch us chatting.
“Mom.” I hear Connor’s voice ahead of me as Killian takes my coat. “What a nice surprise.”
I enter the sprawling lounge area and stop at a dining table that could easily sit ten. My stomach flutters anxiously. I feel sick for some reason, like I’ve done something wrong when I haven’t.
Connor’s mom is clearly the source of the Quinn men’s good looks. She’s standing there, chatting with a knockout redhead who must be Clodagh. Like Yoda, but with aCl, Connor told me. Apparently, Irish people don’t believe in using their g’s and h’s.
“Lexi, meet my mom and Clodagh,” Connor says, gesturing to the two women.
“Hi there.” I beam. Oh god.
Their greetings hit me all at once. I slap on a smile, feeling like I’ve been thrown into the deep end. This is not how I wanted to meet Connor’s mom.
“Lovely to meet you, Lexi,” she says, giving me a kiss on the cheek. I wish it were under less stressful circumstances. “Connor’s told us so much about you.”
Oh fuck. I hope he left out the part about how we met. I don’t think “she tried to steal my car” is the best first impression. “You too, Mrs. Quinn.”
“Please, call me Mairead.”
“I didn’t know you were going to be here, Mom,” Connor says. “Clodagh, I got these for you, now I look like a bad son not getting Mom any.”
He hands over the bouquet of flowers, and Clodagh takes them with a grin.
“That’s okay, sweetie, you can take me for dinner sometime soon.” His mom winks, and now I know where he gets his charm from.
“Where’s Teagan?” Connor asks.
Killian smiles smoothly but it’s hard to miss the tension simmering beneath the surface. “She’s at her friend’s house.”
Connor’s brow furrows. “She’s not avoiding me, is she?”
“No, of course not,” Clodagh jumps in, her smile bright as she pours us glasses of wine.
That seems to appease Connor, thankfully.
The attention turns to me as Clodagh and Mairead fuss around me.
It should be lovely, a momentous occasion. I’m meeting Connor’s family, for crying out loud.
But instead of feeling all warm and fuzzy, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, or in this case, for Connor and Killian to start throwing punches over the canapés. I don’t know what Killian’s game plan is.
“I heard you stayed at our cottage in Ireland. Amazing spot, right?” Connor’s mom offers me a bright smile.
“Yeah, it was absolutely incredible,” I gush, shifting from foot to foot with nervous energy. “Is that where you’re from?”
I can hardly detect an Irish accent, unlike Clodagh who sounds like she just stepped off the set of “P.S. I Love You.”
“No, I’m from Dublin.” She smiles. “Maybe you and Connor will get there one day.”
My smile stays frozen. Connor clears his throat awkwardly, and I can practically feel the discomfort radiating off him. This is all still a little premature in our relationship. Truth is, I would have said me being here is too soon myself if Killian hadn’t twisted my arm.
“The groundskeeper assured me that you two had a fabulous time. You got to do a bit of swimming in the wild Atlantic, yes?” His Mom smirks, and I feel my cheeks burst into flames.
My eyes widen to the size of Killian’s dinner plates. Oh god.
“Yeah,” I laugh nervously. I’m just going to have to own it. “When in Rome,” I joke. “Or Ireland, in freezing cold conditions.”
But then, something miraculous happens. Everyone starts laughing, including me. And not just polite, awkward chuckles, but real, genuine laughter. Like we’re all in on some hilarious joke.
