Taking the bait as easily as I was sure they would, Stetson asks, “Yes, what does your father do?”
“He’s a neonatal cardiothoracic surgeon at Buffalo’s Children Hospital.” I take a sip of my drink.
“Oh?” I can’t imagine Stetson Stearns is at a loss for words very often. At my side, Jillian squeezes my thigh. It’s possible she’s as delighted as he’s speechless.
“Yes, sir. He does good work.”
“Neonatal… that’s an interesting specialty.”
“My father has always said he enjoys saving the most vulnerable.”
“Hmm. Of course.”
“Well, that and he says since their bodies are the smallest, they’re the most challenging to work on. He enjoys the intensity of that most of all.”
“Ahh.” Stetson tips his drink in my direction. “Now, that sounds like a man I’d like.”
Because a competitive man is, but a compassionate one isn’t? I forgo the dig I could easily take.
For the first time since I’ve met him, he actually looks pleased. Even more than when he was talking business with Roman. While I don’t give two shits about what Stetson thinks of me, pissing Roman off is fun as hell.
“And your mother?” Claire asks, altogether sounding completely uninterested in anything relating to me or my mom. Are they this obvious with trying to find distasteful things about others? “She must stay busy with your father working in such a demanding profession.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I glance at Jillian. She’s almost bursting with glee but it’s not just that. She knows my parents. Despite the bomb I’m about to drop, she knows how different they are than her own.
But sometimes, you just have to enjoy shoving someone’s wealth down their throat a little bit.
“My mother’s a biomedical engineering professor at Buffalo U. She’s actually the head of the department there and her promotion is what brought us to the States from Canada when I was younger…”
“Oh.” Claire’s perfectly painted lips form an O and her brows dip together. Everyone at the table seems a bit disappointed at this news.
I definitely notice how they don’t seem pleased their daughter is with someone who comes from such wealth and prestige. Probably because it’s in opposition to me—at least the prestige part, and that’s only a matter of who you’re asking.
And if you care. Which I don’t.
“So what do your parents think of your hockey thing?”
This guy. I’m almost surprised the question comes from Roman instead of Stetson. He’s enjoyed treating me like I’m nothing more than a dumb jock ever since we first met.
“My father respects a man capable of thinking for themselves. He also has high admiration for anyone who’s willing to work hard for their goals, sacrifice and fight for what they want.”
With that, I lean back and casually drape my arm over the back of Jillian’s chair. It’s highly inappropriate given her family and their need for proper manners.
Thankfully, she leans in.
Eat that, Roman. I smirk at him and watch as his eyes turn to fiery steel aimed straight at me. Yeah, he’s pissed at me. Good.
“And they’re very kind people,” Jillian says. It’s almost a dig at her parents when she smiles at Nana, completely ignoring the sour looks on her parents’ faces, before smiling up at me. “They’re so gracious. Please tell them I say hello next time you and your mom speak.”
“Of course, honey,” I murmur, and then lean down and brush my lips to her ear where her family can’t see. “Is Roman green yet?”
Her hand on my thigh gives me a quick pinch. “Does putrid have a color? You might be overselling this, sweetie.”
I’m not selling anything. I’m just being me and showing Jillian how much I like her. But if she wants to keep her head in the sand, that’s fine. I enjoy this game… this fight. It’s been a long time I’ve had to fight for anything worthwhile off the ice.
10
Klaus
“Is that… is that a Portofino?”
The interest in Stetson’s tone is clear as day. Since conversation during drinks moved on from my family, I caught Stetson giving me surreptitious looks, almost like he has no idea what to do with me now.
I can feel Roman’s glare directed at my hand settled low on Jillian’s back, my fingertips brushing her underwear line beneath her thin, silky dress.
Anytime I can stick it to Roman, I’m all in, but I’m surprised to hear Stetson knows what kind of car I’m driving.
Roman is taking Julianna home, so I offered to walk outside with them and move it so they could get out easier.
I hadn’t anticipated the excitement in Stetson’s voice. Next to me, Jillian grins down at her toes peeking out from her sandals.
“Yes, sir. It sure is. Do you like Ferraris?”
“Like them? I’ve been wanting one for quite some time. Just can’t convince Claire to let me sell my Jag for one. How does she ride?”
“Beautifully. Perhaps before dinner, we can take her for a spin.” I pull Jillian closer and kiss her temple. “Do you mind?”
“No, not at all. I plan on taking a nap, anyway.”
“What do you say then?” I pull my keys out of my pocket and hand them over. “You can move it for Roman and I’ll meet you out front after I get Jillian settled?”
Might as well play the gentleman card.
I didn’t exactly think I’d get Mr. Stearns on my side over a short weekend, but I can say I didn’t feel like an ice block was between us after he assumed my parents’ wealth. Which is still smaller than his own.
Minuscule compared to mine.
Regardless, there was a thaw in the distance he previously set.
Now?
Well, now, I think the man is actually smiling at me.
Although it could be the afternoon sun making him squint, too.
Whichever.
“Sure. Of course. Sounds like a great idea.” he says, and even more surprisingly, holds out his hand and turns to his daughter. “As always, Jillian, it’s nice to have you home. We’ll see you in a few hours?”
“Thanks, Dad. It’s good to be back.”
“Hmm.” His tone is doubtful. For being a rather arrogant ass, I actually think he likes his daughter. At a minimum, he’s neutral toward her, which is a far improvement over Claire’s seemingly utter contempt.
“Be back in a few,” I tell him and guide Jillian inside.
Roman and Julianna are on the front porch, fuming. We leave them without a good-bye. I’m over their twisted relationship and Roman’s possessive instinct around Jillian. The next time he glances at her breasts, he’s liable to end up with my fist in his face.
“You don’t have to walk me up.”
“I know. Come on, Jilly-Bean.”
The tea wasn’t easy for her, even if she finally settled in. Before I take off with her dad, I want to make sure she’s doing okay.
I escort her to her room, and as we cross the threshold, the stress from the day falls from her shoulders.
“Your dad is an interesting man.”