Connor holds me close and strides past the press gauntlet without answering any questions while his mother lingers to smile. I peer over my shoulder before he pulls me through the carved lacquered double doors leading into an ornate, Victorian style parlor room.
“Cocktail hour is in here, then dinner through there.” Connor indicates another set of doors inlaid with frosted window panes.
“This place is so fancy.” I tip my head back to take in the deep colors and the intricate high ceiling, where crystal chandeliers dangle overhead. “Wow.”
“I’ve always thought it was stuffy.” Connor shrugs and swipes a piece of fruit from the spread of appetizers. “Remember our story if anyone asks.”
“Okay.” Interested in the table of puff pastries, I take Connor’s hand and pull him over to inspect it. I pick one up and take a bite, moaning as buttery crust, creamy brie, and tart cranberry burst on my tongue. “Wow, this is so good. How did they get their pastry so flaky?”
Connor stares at me intently when I turn to offer him a bite. He parts his lips and I peek around us. He waits until I give in, feeding him. His lips brush against my fingers, sending a shiver racing down my spine. His gaze stays fixed on me as he chews.
“They’re the top chefs in the country. Mom has them flown in for the event.” His deep voice washes over me as he places his hand on the small of my back. He leans close enough to press his lips against my ear. “Moan like that again where anyone could hear you tonight, and I’ll have to steal you away and stuff something in your mouth to keep you quiet.”
A gasp tears from my throat as Connor strokes over my pulse with his other hand. Heat pools in my core at his words. “But, don’t you have to be seen? They’ll wonder where you went.”
“Don’t care. Not when you’re making sounds like that while standing within reach,” he rumbles, tracing the strap of my dress, slipping his finger beneath it. “No windows separating us.”
How can that simple touch steal my breath and make my thighs squirm together? He watches me closely, granting me a wicked, devious grin. He knows exactly what he just did to me.
“You’re so pretty when you blush.”
“Connor, it’s good to see you.” A portly man with a whiskery white beard interrupts us. He holds his hand out for a shake and Connor takes it. I watch him slip on a mask, playing his part of supportive son. “What’s next for your mother? D.C. I hope. There’s a Senate seat that will open up once her next term on the council ends.”
“She only wants to serve Ridgeview’s residents and do her best for them right now,” Connor says with a laugh I know is for show.
I hope that’s the truth. To distract myself from over-analyzing last night, I spent a few hours researching the legislation his mom passed. What I found didn’t impress me. Given the choice, she’s not someone I’d vote for.
“And who’s the lovely lady you’re with?” The man takes an interest in me.
“My girlfriend, sir. I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse us. I see someone I was told to speak to.” He inclines his head at the portly man. “You know how these things go. All hands on deck to woo the purse strings into bigger donations.”
The man throws his head back on a laugh. “Too right.”
Connor steers me away and we run right into Maisy’s parents.
“Chief! Looking sharp,” I say.
“Thea,” Mrs. Landry says in surprise. “Darling, you look beautiful! I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Oh, yeah. Maisy didn’t say?” Chief Landry shakes his head, gazing past me to Connor, standing behind my shoulder with his hand planted firmly on my waist. “This is my boyfriend, Connor. His mom is Councilwoman Bishop.”
“We’re well acquainted,” Chief Landry says, coughing when his wife elbows him.
He and Connor share a look.
“Well, have fun tonight, kids,” Mrs. Landry says, ushering the police chief away.
It’s deceptive at first glance, but Connor keeps himself between me and anyone we mingle with during the cocktail hour. I don’t really get why, since I’m supposed to pose as his girlfriend. He won’t let anyone talk to me for long, masterfully but abruptly extricating us from conversations when they get too prying.
When we sit down in the next room for dinner, he pulls my chair out for me. The room drips in splendor, with circular tables covered in white tablecloths and place settings more suited for a ball rather than a political charity fundraiser. This event pulls out all the stops.
Connor doesn’t seem surprised as he takes his seat next to me. His parents are already at the table, Mrs. Bishop nodding as Damien leans over to speak in her ear with a tablet in his hand. He appears to be running the show as one of Mrs. Bishop’s high up staff members.
“We’ll do the speech between the soup and main course. Any later in the meal and I’ll lose their attention and their wallets.”
Her calculating demeanor changes as soon as the other guests who purchased plates at our table arrive.
“We went all out for you this year, Madam Councilwoman.” It’s the man with the white beard from earlier and he’s taking his seat next to me.