Instead, he said, “My name is Andrew Morgan. I’m a... It’s about your sister, Gwen.”
Greg’s probing words may have been tough, but his mouth curved, and his lips flattened. “Gwen?
What do you want with my sister?”
Everything. “I’m crazy about her. She’s a wonderful woman.” He wanted so much for Martin to hear what he had to say first. That was the proper thing to do.
Andrew had to improvise, if for no other reason than to get out of that station house in one piece and not end up on the news. Man dressed in Prada gets pounded by North Fork police officers.
He cleared his throat and continued. “I’m here to ask your father’s permission to marry her.”
“You have my permission!” Martin answered from the opposite corner.
Andrew breathed in relief. Ignoring the others, he trekked toward Martin who beamed at the sight of him. “Sir, Andrew Morgan, sir. Thank you. I promise to make her happy and do the right thing by her always.”
“Hey Mallory, looks like you’re getting a new brother-in-law,” the officer named Carlin said.
“You may not want to pick on this one so much. He’s taller than you.” The officers jolted with laughter at Greg, their polished silver badges gleaming with reflected light.
Andrew strode toward Greg in an effort to be the bigger man and stuck his hand out toward the officer.
Greg’s eyes trailed over Andrew’s shoulder. His father must have given him a stern look by how his expression changed. A reluctant sigh escaped Greg’s tight lips. His gaze trailed to Andrew’s hand and he gave an extra firm grip that made him wince.
He nodded and turned back to Martin. “I’d like to go to her house now and get her.” Andrew tugged on his coat. “I have a ring for her in the city.”
Martin cupped Andrew’s shoulder. “Why don’t you let me give you an escort to her house. I think that would make up for a ring. Gregory, get your coat.”
GWEN YAWNED WHILE MAKING another pot of decaf coffee. Her sister lounged lazily on the shit-brown loveseat. A fake log of fire burned on the television while Skye went through her Facebook feed, announcing all the holiday posts. Casey climbed up as well and curled in the crook of her knees. But the dog snapped to attention and began whining, prompting Skye to look out the living room window.
“Hey Gwen, do you know someone who drives a cherry-red Cadillac SUV?”
“No,” Gwen answered from the kitchen. “Probably someone who got lost going to the Hamptons.”
“Wait a minute, there’re two patrol cars behind it.”
“Lights and sirens?” Gwen came into the living room and petted Casey’s head to calm her down.
“Yeah. I guess someone got pulled over.” Skye started to push the curtain back, but took another peek. “It’s Dad and Greg out there.”
Gwen shrugged at the odd coincidence.
“A young guy is getting out of the Caddy.” Skye sat up on her knees. “Huh, I thought only geezers drove those things. Good lord, is he tall.”
Gwen joined her sister at the living room window. “Who is?”
“The guy. Wow. I can see from all the way back here, that man is gorgeous.” Skye smoothed her hair and hopped off the loveseat. She opened the front door and said, “Hey, there are crazier ways to meet people. And he may need a lawyer.”
“Skye I wouldn’t—” Gwen’s eyes sharpened. That walk. Those legs. That jet-back hair. “Oh my God!”
“What?” Skye spun back around.
“That’s Andrew.” Gwen yanked her coat on before Greg beat him up, adding to the Mallory family list of scandals.
“Wait, let me go. Greg may cuff him first and ask questions second.” Skye ran out wearing only a thin sweater, clearly thinking the same thought.
“And you think you can stop it?” Gwen followed, slushing through the path the town guys had made for her at four a.m.
Skye stared at Andrew in amazement. He leaned against his car with his hands in his pockets.
That’s his car? His face was even. Greg and her dad’s cop cars hovered in front of the driveway, their blue and white lights flashing. They had their doors open, already getting out.
Gwen spun around in confusion. What the heck was happening? A wave of dizziness passed through her and she began to slip in the snow. Andrew rushed to her side first, even though Skye had been the closest.
“I’ve got you,” Andrew said, his voice low. “Gwen, it’s me. What’s wrong?” His hands on her arms sent a wave through her. Fear.
She might have swelled with fear of losing Andrew, but her instincts told her to push him away.
“There’s nothing wrong. I thought we were just spending the holidays with our families.”
“Gwen,” he said moving closer. “I expected to see you last night and today. I just never said anything because I thought it was understood. After that incredible week we had and what we did...in Milan.”
“I can’t believe you drove all the way out here,” she said.
“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t.”
Gwen squinted at her father. “And you just randomly pulled him over?” She turned to her brother.
“Both of you?”
The men exchanged odd glances. Greg pressed his hat down. “No. We were having coffee at Sadie’s and he came in.”
“Yeah,” Andrew said. “I stopped to make sure I was going the right way and I recognized them.”
“How did you recognize them?” Skye asked in her cross-examination voice.
Andrew smiled. “She has pictures of all of you on her desk.”
Gwen looked down. “Oh, right.”
Andrew kept his arm around her, but he didn’t say anything else, just looked at her father. Odd.
Greg and his mirrored cop shades focused on Andrew holding her, but then cast a sidelong glance at the Caddy.
Andrew rolled his eyes. “It’s my mother’s. She wanted me to use it. My Beamer only has front-wheel drive.”
“Oh, that won’t do out here.” Martin folded his arms smiling. “We get piles of snow.”
Gwen swallowed to say something else, but stopped watching her father amble toward her.
“It’s cold,” he said, nudging her further into Andrew’s arms. “Why don’t you two go in the house.”
That shell of a dwelling was a house, but not a home. What would Andrew think? “Um, actually...” She stared at the Caddy again.
Andrew’s mother handed over a sixty-thousand-dollar car so he could drive all the way out to Darling Cove. The same woman who didn’t like the girl he’d married. He’d said his mother knew about Gwen. This gesture must have meant she approved. It made her cheeks tick up.
But nausea spread through her again and fast. How would his mother feel about a knocked-up girl from the sticks? Would she think Gwen was trying to trap her son? Gwen stepped back, scared and confused.
“Gwen, this gentleman made a long drive. Perhaps he wants some coffee?” Martin turned to her brother and sister. “Greg and Skye, go in the house and get your gifts.”
Andrew touched her face. “Gwen, what’s wrong? Has something changed since you were in Milan?”