Sweet Possession (Sweet #5)(2)

The door to Faith’s office opened and Angelina Moyano poked her head through. When she saw the two men, she hesitated. “Am I interrupting anything?”

Connor grinned and motioned her in. “Of course not. How are you, sweetie?”

Angelina walked in, graceful and petite despite her bulging abdomen. Most women her size would be down to a waddle by now, but she still moved with ease.

She smiled at Connor. “I’m good. How are you?” She bent down to hug him tight and he put his hand on her belly.

“Is Miss Priss moving around today?”

“Stop calling her that,” Angelina said in exasperation. “Her name is Nia. Hi, Pop,” she said as she brushed a kiss over the older man’s jaw.

“Hey yourself, Angel. Where’s Micah? Shouldn’t he be working? For that matter, where the hell is Nathan? And Gray? Are we the only people working?”

Connor and Faith exchanged eye rolls. Pop was on his way to working himself into a dither.

“I came by to get Faith. Julie offered me a pregnancy massage and Faith is going to go hold my hand.”

“More like get her own massage,” Connor muttered. “You girls don’t fool me one bit. I’ll go hold your damn hand and then maybe Julie will massage me too.”

“Find your own woman’s hand to hold,” Micah Hudson growled from the doorway.

Pop looked up and scowled. “It’s about time you decided to show up. What is this, come to work late day?”

Micah ignored Pop. All his attention was on the curvy Latina woman heavily pregnant with his child. It amused Connor to no end to see Micah so gobsmacked over a woman. Not that he didn’t love women as a rule, but there was nothing casual or flirty about Micah’s relationship with Angelina. The poor boy was whipped and it was pretty pathetic to watch.

“How sure is Julie that a pregnancy massage is good for the baby?” Micah asked.

Angelina paused and turned with one hand on her hip. “I think the point is that it’s good for the mother.”

“But will it hurt the baby?”

Angelina smiled. “You worry too much, Micah. Go do some work so Faith and I can go have some girly time. We’re going to be late, and Damon expects Serena to be home by noon.”

“Or what?” Connor murmured. He always wondered what the hell went on in Damon and Serena’s marriage. Of all the people who worked for Pop, Connor was the furthest out of the loop when it came to Damon Roche. From what he’d gleaned the man was a control freak and he kept Serena under his thumb.

Faith grinned, and he should have known by the devilish glint in her eye that she was going to say something outlandish.

“I’m pretty sure if she’s late, she gets a crop to her ass.”

“Something Gray needs to think about for you,” Connor said pointedly.

“Who says he doesn’t?” she teased as she grasped Angelina’s arm and the two headed for the door.

Was the whole damn world crazy around him? He’d heard enough to know that his sex life had to be the only normal one in his group of friends. He didn’t even want to know what kind of shit Micah put Angelina through. It would probably only piss him off. And Faith. God. His sister, for Pete’s sake.

He shook his head. No, he didn’t want to know the depravities that his friends indulged in. He was perfectly happy to be the boring vanilla one in the bunch.

He turned to eyeball Micah after the girls had gone. “Any luck getting her to the altar?”

Micah snorted. “I’m trying. Believe me. I’m a persistent man. It’ll happen soon.”

Pop grunted. “The problem with men today is they’re too busy being politically correct. You ought to just snatch her up and haul her to a priest. Or to Vegas like Gray did with Faith. If you wait around for a woman to make up her mind, you’ll be old and impotent by the time your wedding night gets here.”

Connor cracked up. “This might explain why you’ve now embraced bachelorhood indefinitely.”

Pop shook his finger at Connor and Micah. “Mark my words. I’m right. Look at what happened when Nathan stopped pu**yfooting around Julie. He went over to where she was and hauled her out over his shoulder. Then he told her how it was going to be and voilà. Now they’re married. He’s happy. She’s happy. End of story. Not like Micah over here who mopes around like a friggin’ kicked puppy because he can’t convince the woman he loves that he really loves her and really wants to marry her. Jesus has to be crying up there somewhere. Or laughing hysterically. I can’t figure out which one.”

Micah’s lips curled into a snarl. “Enough already, Pop. You know I f**ked up with her. I can’t just run over her and make her do what I want.”

“No, but you could damn well put your foot down and make her believe how you feel.”

“I’ve tried!”

“Then try harder,” Pop grumbled. “It’s getting to be like some couples’ retreat around here. It’s damn nauseating.”

Connor knew when a good time to escape was. Right now, when Pop was busy bitching about something else. Maybe by the time he remembered what he wanted Connor to do, the record company would have given up and hired someone else.

He was almost to the door. One more step and he would have made it home free.