Page 52 of Most Likely to Deny Love (Yearbook #2)

MIA

O ne more strike and I was out, I was sure of it.

First, bailing on Megan’s wedding, now skipping out of town for Thanksgiving.

If I didn’t attend Christmas this year, I was pretty sure I’d no longer be allowed to call myself a Harris.

Having a protector certainly came with its perks, though.

The calls, messages and flying monkeys had all stopped the day Jack took my phone from me and spoke to my Mom.

Ever since, there had only been a few polite texts from her, and nothing from Megan.

Now here I was, in the back of a private car with Jack, winding our way through the Colorado mountains from the airport.

I wasn’t really sure what was waiting for us at the Sullivan family gathering, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be good.

The further we drove into the mountains, the quieter Jack became.

He’d been withdrawing mile by mile, his frown deepening, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack walnuts.

I’d never seen him like this. Even during the most stressful work crises, he’d always been cool and calm.

But this? This was different. And I had no clue what to do about it. I twisted the sapphire ring on my finger, gazing out the window at the gorgeous scenery around us. Feeling almost overwhelmed by the tension that rolled off Jack in waves, I was desperate to break the strained silence.

“Stunning scenery, isn’t it?” Well, that was fucking lame.

“Yeah, it’s great.”

We turned onto a private road, a discreet sign marking the entrance to Sullivan property. Jack’s frown deepened and his shoulders hunched a little. Honestly, it made me wish we could turn the car around and drive straight back to the airport.

The strain on his face made something twist in my chest. Without overthinking it, I unclicked my seatbelt and slid across the seat until our thighs touched.

I took his hand, relieved when his fingers immediately closed around mine.

“So,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, “anything in particular I should know before we arrive? Secret handshakes? Forbidden topics? Embarrassing childhood stories I should avoid?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smile, before his expression grew serious again.

“I expect that my parents won’t cause you any hassles.

Any thoughts they have about how suitable you are for the Sullivans will be directed at me.

And before you ask, the answer will be, not at all suitable, since my mother had no hand in choosing you.

My cousins are pretty harmless. Various aunts and uncles will either be very interested in you, or leave you completely alone.

My grandmother will be all over you. My brother Jared, though, is another story. ”

“I see. And, uh, what’s his story and do I need to be worried?”

“He’s... competitive. Always has been.”

When he didn’t seem inclined to elaborate I said, “I’m gonna need a little more information.”

“He has a habit of going after what’s mine.”

“Uh huh. And by “what’s yours,” do you mean me?”

“Yes.”

Of course, he meant in the context of the fake engagement, not that I was really his. No need to get all fluttery about it.

Jack dragged his gaze from the scenery. “A few years back, I was engaged.”

I blinked, caught off guard. In all our time together, he’d never mentioned this.

“What happened?”

“Her name was Katherine.” His voice was flat, carefully controlled. “Perfect on paper. My mother’s hand picked choice.”

“Not yours?”

He shrugged. “She was willing and I was long past believing I would meet someone who… “ He trailed off, clearly unwilling to finish that thought.

I really wanted to push him, to ask him what he’d been about to say. Someone who what? But I was too chicken shit for that, so instead, I said, “And then Jared?”

“He decided he wanted her. And apparently, she wanted him too.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“It is. I found them together.” He shrugged, the casual gesture belied by the tension in his shoulders. “She expected Jared to propose after I broke it off. He dumped her two weeks later.”

“So his only goal was to take her away from you?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“He sounds like a fuckhead.”

That surprised a laugh out of him. “He is that.”

I watched Jack’s profile, thoughts connecting like puzzle pieces. His brother stealing his fiancée. His reluctance to come home. This fake engagement that had started with a ring in Paris.

“Is the fake engagement to get back at him, then?” I asked carefully. “Some kind of... I don’t know, power move to show him you’ve moved on?”

Jack turned to me, his expression softening in a way I rarely saw. “No. It’s for Nan.”

“Oh.”

“She’s, uh, she’s not well. The doctors aren’t sure what’s wrong with her, but she’s worried that this’ll do her in.” He stopped to clear his throat and his gaze slid away, to look back out the window. “She wants to know I’ll be okay if she, uh, if she?—”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks, or what they say, or even if they guess our engagement is fake. It’s Nan you have to convince. Which is ironic, because she’s by far the hardest one to fool.”

“No pressure then.”

I wanted to ask more but the car was slowing, and through the trees I caught my first glimpse of the Sullivan family home.

The massive structure of timber and stone rose against the backdrop of snow-dusted pines, glass walls reflecting the alpine scenery.

Smoke curled from multiple chimneys, and luxury vehicles lined the circular driveway.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the shallow steps that lead up to massive double doors.

Jack dragged in a deep breath, sending me a twisted smile that made my heart ache a little, before getting out of the car.

He was at my door before the driver could open it and I took his hand as he helped me out, doing my best to suppress the burst of nerves that hit me.

The front doors opened to reveal a tall man with salt and pepper hair and hazel eyes. Jack’s father, without a doubt. He stepped down the shallow stairs, his face expressionless as he held his hand out to Jack.

“Jack.”

“Dad.”

Not a talkative family, then.

“This is Mia. Mia, my father, Angus.”

Angus turned to me and it was like someone switched the charm button on. “What a pleasure it is to meet you.” His big hands wrapped around mine and he pulled me forward, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“It’s good to meet you too. Jack has told me so much about you.”

“Has he now?”

Well, that was clearly the wrong thing to say, judging by the look he shot Jack.

“All good things, I hope.”

Barely anything, actually, but, “Of course. I’m very excited to be here. Thank you so much for including me in your Thanksgiving celebration.”

“We’re delighted.”

He did not mean that, not even a little bit.

My initial impression of Angus Sullivan was that he was a salesman, through and through.

Used to winning people over with his charming smile and aura of confidence.

Not me, though. Something about him gave me the ick.

Made me want to search his pockets for snake oil. “The feeling is mutual.”

“Let me introduce you to my wife. Victoria! Jack and Mia have arrived!” His voice was booming, like he was used to commanding everyone around him.

Moments later, a slim, elegant woman with perfectly colored and styled blond hair appeared in the doorway, her cashmere wrap looking like it cost more than my monthly salary.

Victoria glided toward Jack first, her movements precise and elegant, like she’d practiced them in front of a mirror. She pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek, then immediately reached up with manicured fingers to wipe away the perfect coral lipstick mark she’d left behind.

“You look tired, darling.” Her voice carried that particular blend of concern and criticism only mothers seem to master. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied his face. “Are you getting enough sleep? You know how you get when you’re overworked.”

Then she turned her attention to me, her gaze traveling from my sensible shoes all the way up to my slightly windblown hair.

I could practically feel her cataloging every detail from my department store dress, my minimal makeup, to my curves that definitely didn’t fit the Sullivan family mold.

For a split second, her perfectly maintained mask slipped, revealing something that looked suspiciously like disappointment.

But then it was gone, replaced by a dazzling society smile that showed off her expensive dental work but absolutely zero genuine warmth. She extended her hand, her grip cool and light when I took it.

“We’re absolutely thrilled to meet the woman who finally captured Jack’s heart.” Her tone suggested I’d somehow trapped him rather than won him over. What a colossal bitch.

“Mrs Sullivan. It’s great to meet you.”

“Call me Victoria, please.”

Her smile never faltered as she gave my arm a squeeze that felt more like a warning than a welcome.

“Quite the ring Jack’s given you,” she remarked, lifting my left hand and tilting it under the fading sunlight. “Sapphire is an... interesting choice. Most Sullivan women have traditionally worn diamonds, of course.”

Before I could respond, a clear voice called from the doorway.

An elderly woman appeared, her silver bob gleaming in the winter light. She moved with surprising vigor, even though she was relying heavily on an ornate wooden cane.

Jack’s entire demeanor changed. The tension in his shoulders eased, and a genuine smile, the first I’d seen since we’d boarded the plane, spread across his face.

“Nan.” He strode forward, enveloping her in a gentle hug.

“Let me look at you.” She cupped his face with one hand, her eyes searching his. “Working too hard, as usual.”

“I’m fine, Nan.”

“Of course you are.” She patted his cheek before turning her bright blue gaze on me. “And this is Mia.”

I stepped forward, suddenly nervous. This woman clearly meant everything to Jack and I was desperate to make a good impression.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Sullivan.”

“Eleanor to most, Nan to you.” She clasped my hand, her grip surprisingly strong. “Well, aren’t you a breath of fresh air? No wonder Jack’s been keeping you to himself.”

Her eyes, sharp and missing nothing, studied me with open appreciation. “Finally, someone with some actual curves in this family. Victoria, isn’t she gorgeous?”

I felt my cheeks flush as Victoria’s smile tightened imperceptibly. “She’s lovely.”

“Nan,” Jack warned, but there was fondness in his voice.

“What? I’m eighty-seven, I can say what I like.” She winked at me. “Come inside, dear. The vultures are circling, but stick close to me and you’ll be fine.”

As Nan led the way, Victoria and Angus exchanged a look I couldn’t quite interpret.

Jack’s hand found mine, our fingers intertwining. “Sorry about that,” he murmured.

“Are you kidding? I adore her already.”

And I meant it. In a family where something felt subtly wrong beneath the polished surface, Nan seemed like the only genuine article.