I laughed, and we increased our pace, heading toward the boys who would no doubt finish long before us. Heading toward a family I never knew I wanted, but a future I couldn’t help but hope for.
13
Connell
“Ye ready for this?” I asked her as our driver told us we were two cars away from the red carpet.
“I think so,” Annabelle said with a nervous smile.
“Ye look brilliant.” She looked so perfect I didn’t even want to kiss her for fear that it would mess up her make-up. Her red dress was a strapless number that showed off her incredible breasts and hourglass figure, but with her hair up in whatever twist-thing that was, her neck was a bigger temptation than I could resist. I leaned down and kissed the soft skin just beneath her jaw, and she murmured her appreciation.
“None of that right now, thank you,” she said with a laugh. “It took me two hours and two stylists to look like this. I thought Langley was crazy when she called and offered, but I’m so glad I went with the other girls to get ready.”
“You’re beautiful every day, but I’m not arguing with that dress.”
She flashed me a smile that turned my heart over. God, but the lass was beautiful.
“Walk me through it one more time,” she begged as we moved forward.
“First, I’ll get out of the car, and then I’ll help you out,” I told her as I took her hand.
“You won’t let me fall? Because so help me God, if those cameras catch me—”
I cut her off by brushing a light kiss over her cherry red lips. She’d promised that it was the kind of lipstick that didn’t rub off, but I honestly didn’t care if it did. I’d have a clown mouth all night if it meant I got to kiss her.
“I won’t let you fall,” I promised. “Press will want to take a few pictures of us together, and then I’ll probably have to do one or two singles. You can either wait for me right there or go inside—whatever makes you more comfortable.”
We moved forward in line again, which meant it was our turn.
“Okay,” she said with a nod. “Let’s do this.”
Squeezing her hand one last time, I let her fingers go and put on my public face. The door opened, and I stepped out to the roar of fans. This black-tie gala wasn’t just for the Reapers. Celebrities and politicians had all come out to help raise funds for the Children’s Hospital.
I waved to the crowd, then turned for Annabelle.
“Pivot, feet down,” I heard her mutter as she turned in the seat. Her heeled feet appeared, and then she took my hand and stood.
“Beautiful,” I said softly into her ear as we walked down the first part of the carpet. I tucked her hand into the crook of my elbow to make sure that she stayed steady. She’d never get over it if she tripped, even a little bit.
Her smile was as radiant as she was, and even though I felt her nerves in the tension of her muscles, she never let the fans see it. She looked calm, poised, and so very happy.
God knew my grin was huge for that same reason.
“Connell!” Some of the photographers called out as we made it to the backdrop section of the entry.
I switched my grip on Annabelle, winding my arm around her so I could tuck her into my side. We smiled for everyone who demanded our attention.
“This is wild,” she said while the cameras clicked away.
I looked down at her, and our eyes met. “It’s a hell of a lot more fun with you here, that’s for sure.”
“You sure? I mean, I did draw the line at the ostrich costume.” Her smile was wide and bright as she dusted my tux’s lapel.
“We would have made a statement,” I argued as the clicks raged on.
“The wrong one,” she countered. “Tonight is about how incredible you are, not Sweet Water. You deserve this. You’re amazing.”
We turned back to the cameras and smiled for a few more pictures, then kept walking down the carpet.
“Solo time,” she said with a pat of my arm. “I’ll be right up there.” She motioned toward the end of the reporter gauntlet.
“I’ll be there as soon as I possibly can,” I promised with a kiss on her cheek.
Damn if she didn’t look just as good walking away as she did right next to me.
“Connell! A few questions?” A reporter called out.
And so it began.
“We’re a few weeks into the season, and we’re wondering how you feel the Reaper’s chances for the Cup this year,” the first one asked.
“Well, it’s only October, so there are a lot of games to play before we can even begin to think about playoffs. But I will say that we have a great team this year, and I have the highest of hopes.”
I answered questions about the new goalie and the other rookies, along with the few trades we’d taken and lost. The next reporter wanted to know about the ostrich costume. The next asked about the charitable fund.
On and on the questions went until it had at least been ten minutes since Annabelle left my side.
Finally, I reached the last reporter.
“Hi, Connell!” The perky blonde said with a wave.
“Hey there.” I smiled, glad that this was the last of them.
“I’m Penny Whitmore with Charleston Chatter, and our readers are just dying to know about these rumors that you’re dating a local girl.” She held out the microphone.
“They’re not rumors. I’m in a relationship with a beautiful, smart woman from Sweet Water.” My smile turned real at the thought of Annabelle.
“That’s what we thought! So since it’s just the two of us—”
Two of us my arse.
“Does this mean you’re turning over a new leaf? You’ve been one of the Reapers’ most eligible bachelors since you moved to Charleston last year, and though we’ve heard many southern girls have tried to win your heart, you just weren’t a relationship guy! Does this mean that there’s hope for your many fans that you might be looking local?”
I blinked and tried to keep my smile in place.
“I would have to say that I was waiting for the right girl. I think the right woman can make any man ready for a relationship. But as for looking local, I’d have to say no, since I’ve already found Annabelle.”
Penny Whitmore’s forehead puckered. “Oh. So—” her eyes darted sideways. “So you’re in this for the long haul?”
“I am,” I confirmed. “Why do you seemed so surprised?” My smile flattened.
“Oh, well, we do this segment every week where we compare celebrity relationships, and when we compared pictures of you with past flames to pictures with you and...Annabelle, we noticed that she definitely doesn’t blend in with your usuals.”
You’re on film. Keep it polite. Langley will crush your balls if you give this woman a real piece of your mind.
I swallowed and composed my words carefully.
“She definitely isn’t my usual type,” I admitted. “She made me chase her relentlessly for one. I can’t ever remember having to work so hard to get a date in my entire life.” I laughed, trying to lighten the interview. “Truthfully, in the past, I’ve always dated women who were in the same social sphere. Women who were used to this kind of thing.” I gestured down the carpet. “And Annabelle is refreshingly new to all of this. So when ye note that she’s not my usual type, I absolutely agree with you. I’m used to women at my level, and Annabelle is completely and totally out of my league. I have no idea why she puts up with me, honestly.”
Ms. Whitmore’s jaw dropped, and she struggled to recover. “Lucky girl.”
“I’m the lucky one. Trust me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we have money to raise.” I gave her a smile that wasn’t in the least bit friendly and turned to see Annabelle only a few feet away.
By the mix of awe and happiness on her face, she must have heard what I’d just said.
I reached for her, and she placed her hand in mine.
“That…” She shook her head as her words failed.
“I know ye d
on’t want to hear it, but I love ye. And every word I said was true. Ye are entirely out of my league. But I’m thankful you’re willing to date down a wee bit.” I brushed a kiss across her forehead, and then we were moving.
We walked past the doormen and into the event, which was decorated in lush shades of green and gold. My girl stood out just like she should have.
“So, what do we do now?” Annabelle asked, looking into the crowd milling before us.
“You both look fabulous!” Persephone said with her sugar-sweet drawl as she approached in a pale blue ballgown that reminded me of a Disney movie. “Annabelle, you make that dress a knockout, and thank you for talking Connell out of that ostrich suit he wore to your 5K.”
“Thank you!” Annabelle answered. “And really, I can’t thank you enough for all you did getting the Reapers to the 5k, and coming yourself! This…” Annabelle looked over the decor as the band took the stage. “This is just lovely. You’re so talented!”
Persephone blushed, ducking her head slightly as a tall, thin man came up behind her, putting his hand on the small of her back.
“You should have seen our senior prom. This woman sure knows how to plan a party,” he said. “Michael Carlisle,” he introduced himself with an outstretched hand.
“Connell MacDhuibh,” I answered, “And this is my girlfriend, Annabelle Clarke.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Annabelle said as her gaze flickered between the two of them.
“Michael is an old friend of my family,” Sephie said with a slightly strained smile.
“We’ve known each other since we were in diapers. If this was the Middle Ages, our parents would have signed the betrothal papers years ago.” He laughed.
“But it’s not, thank goodness.” Sephie swallowed. Then she looked past me, and her eyes widened.
“Well, it really is beautiful in here,” Annabelle said to ease the awkward moment. “And you look gorgeous!”
But Sephie’s eyes were now on the man standing next to me.
“Ye made it!” I said to Cannon. “And you’re even dressed up. Did ye lose a bet?” I’d never seen the man in a tux. He’d skipped out on every fundraiser that required he wear anything dressier than jeans.
He didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was being his normal surly-self, or if he was distracted by the petite blonde. Either way, it got bloody awkward quickly.
“Cannon.” Sephie’s voice was light.
“Persephone.” Cannon’s wasn’t.
I wasn’t the only one who picked up on the energy. Michael-whatever looked between the two and narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Sephie, why don’t we dance before your evening gets too busy?” he asked, stepping even closer to her. “It looks like the band is about ready to start.”
Oh look, now there was another silent pause. This would have been almost comedic if it wasn’t so bloody tense. A muscle in Cannon’s jaw ticked, and I mentally calculated how quickly I could put myself between him and the prissy guy.
“Sure,” Sephie finally agreed, still looking at Cannon. “I appreciate you coming. I know this is usually something you’d avoid.”
“It’s for sick kids.”
“I’m still grateful.”
The band started playing, but the awkward tension didn’t dissipate.
“Sephie, that’s our cue,” Michael suggested.
“Right. I’ll see you guys later,” she said to Annabelle and me and then turned back to Price. “Cannon.”
“Persephone.”
She walked away with Michael’s hand on her back, but she shook it off before they got too far.
“So that was inter—” I started.
“Who the fuck was that prick?” Cannon growled.
“A friend of her family,” Annabelle answered.
His jaw ticked again.
“It seemed like she wasn’t into him if that makes you feel better?” I glanced over at my very tall, very tatted, very out of place friend.
“Why the fuck would I care about who she’s into?” He stalked off, heading toward a table of brunettes.
“Well, that was…” Annabelle tilted her head.
“Awkward? Weird? Downright odd?”
“I was going to say full of sexual tension.” She shrugged.
“What?”
“Oh come on, those two should be smoking a cigarette after all that eye-sex.” She gestured toward where Persephone danced with Michael. “Now, let’s get out there.”
Just like that, my broody friend was forgotten, and I had Annabelle in my arms as the band changed songs to Wonderful Tonight.
“You did great out there,” I told her as we swayed back and forth on the floor.
“You were incredible,” she said, looking up at me and cupping the back of my neck. “You really meant all that, didn’t you? The stuff about being the lucky one?”
“Aye. Because I am. Remember, it was me chasing ye, not the other way around, Annabelle.” I pulled her closer until our bodies moved together as one.
She shook her head with a soft smile. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
I brushed my lips over hers. “There’s no other shoe. There’s just ye and me and whatever we decide to make of this. I know your past. I know you’re worried about my schedule, and I hate being separated from ye. I really do. But we’ve already made it through one away series, and it wasn’t too bad, was it?”
“Because you stayed in your hotel room and facetimed with me instead of going out with your friends.” She arched a delicate brow at me.
“True, but I did exactly what I wanted to do. If I couldn’t be with you in person, I had the next best thing.”
“You can’t always do that,” she lectured as the floor around us filled with other dancing couples. “You have to go out with your friends. You can’t become the Reaper Recluse because you’re worried that I’ll worry. I trust you.”
“Good, because I love ye. And I’m sure I’ll go out with the guys, but it was our first away series, and I wanted to make sure you…” I tried to think of words that wouldn’t get me into a fight.
“Didn’t freak out?” She suggested with a wide smile.
“Can I plead the fifth? Or do you have to be an American citizen to do that?”
She laughed, and I turned and dipped her, holding her parallel to the floor as I kissed her. It was soft and sweet, and still enough to set me on fire. She was enchanting—that was the best word I had to describe her. Bewitching. Beguiling.
I brought her upright, and her eyes fluttered open as she smiled up at me. “Thank you for tonight.”
“Thank ye for all of it.” I kissed her again, uncaring of who was watching or taking photos. The reporter had one thing right. I was in this for the long haul. If I was this crazy for the woman after only a few months, I wondered how big it would feel in a few years.
I had every intention of finding out.
14
Annabelle
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen him smile,” I said, motioning to Cannon across the party, leaning not so casually in a darker corner, his dark eyes tracking every movement, but he wasn’t really participating in the party’s festivities. Not since his arrival and that intense exchange, anyway.
“I did once,” Connell said from my side. “His nose was in a book though, and I didn’t dare tell him I saw it.”
I smiled. “Well, that’s adorable.”
Connell cocked a brow at me, squeezing me where his hand rested on my hip. “Cannon Price is not adorable,” he practically growled.
I pinched his side. “I meant that you didn’t give him hell over it. I love books too, and sometimes people can be real jerks about what you choose to read.”
He planted a chaste kiss on my lips. “Have I told you look beautiful tonight?”
A flush swept over my skin. “Several times, thank you.”
And he looked down-right delectable in his suit—the way it shaped his body, the wa
y it made his blue eyes ten times more blue. It should be illegal to look as good as he did.
“How about some champagne?” He asked, motioning toward the bar across from the dancefloor.
“Love some,” I said, my hand easily slipping into his as he led us to the bar. He settled me on the lone available barstool, electing to stand behind me as he ordered our drinks.
“Connell MacDhuibh,” a sultry voice with a British accent called from behind us.
I turned to see, as did Connell, who smiled wide at the woman standing before him. She had gorgeous red hair that hung in waves to her shoulders, green eyes, and a slender figure evident from the slip of a gown she wore. She somehow looked sexy and elegant in the most effortless way.
“Ginger Levenson,” Connell said, his hand slipping from mine to give the woman a generous hug. “What the hell are ye doing here?”
She patted him on the back before they broke apart, Connell’s back still to me. My stomach twisted, unsure if I should stand up and introduce myself or spin my body back toward the bar and pretend like I didn’t exist.
“In the states for a shoot,” she said. “Snagged an invite. Rumor in the social circles is that Persephone Vandoren throws the grandest events.” She glanced around the elaborate party. “Rumors, for once, did not disappoint.”
Connell nodded, but quickly turned around, slipping his arm around my shoulders. “Ginger, this is my lady Annabelle,” he said, and the tension in my chest instantly melted at the way his accent rolled over the titled he’d appointed me. “Annabelle, this is an old friend of mine, Ginger Levenson.”
I reached my hand out, shaking hers briefly. “Nice to meet you,” I said.
A partygoer vacated the barstool next to me, and Ginger instantly sat down. “Thank the stars,” she said. “These heels are treacherous, but I promised my agent I’d wear them.” She pointed to the black pumps she wore.
Connell (Carolina Reapers Book 3) Page 13
