Cannon moved, taking his original position at the counter.
“Thank you,” she told him.
“It’s not a crime to have what you’ve always wanted,” he answered with a shrug. “Just a waste if you don’t appreciate it.”
“I never said I have everything I’ve ever wanted. She presumed. Don’t make the same mistake.” She cleared her throat and faced me. “Okay, back to the original problem. Richard just texted. He’s getting the tape tonight. Hopefully we can stop the bogus story from printing which solves Langley’s problem, but if you give the tape to Annabelle, maybe it will solve your problem, too.”
“I don’t know how to say thank you, Sephie.”
She smiled at me. “You just did.”
“Well as fun as this has been, Sephie and I are needed at our respective offices. Cannon, Logan, please see that he’s sober, showered, and at practice?”
“Yes, Mom,” Logan sang, but his eyes were dull.
“Echo, Connell, it was so lovely to see you, even if it was a little...dramatic. Logan, please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.” She turned to Cannon. “Cannon.”
“Persephone.”
“Leaving,” Langley announced. In a whirl of blonde hair, Sephie followed Langley out.
“That girl is like a fucking unicorn had sex with a rainbow and then that offspring mated with woodland fairy Barbie,” Echo muttered.
We all turned slowly to look at her.
“What? Sawyer calls her Fairytale Princess Barbie if that helps.” She shrugged.
“It doesn’t.” Cannon announced, then started chugging his water.
“How do Barbies mate?” Logan questioned.
“You see, when two people love each other—” I started.
He grinned. “Now look at who’s back to cracking jokes.”
My smile fell.
“Connell, walk me out,” Echo ordered, taking her bag from the counter.
She was quiet until we reached the front door. “I was thinking about what you said.”
“With all that in there, ye had time to think?”
She rolled her eyes. “Look. I don’t think she wants you to change. I think she wants you put her first. That’s before your need to crack a joke or mouth off during an interview. She loves you. I know that. She wants you, Connell. Not some watered-down serious version of you. Honestly, she needs you to help her with that whole caring-what-people-think thing.”
“She doesn’t want anything to do with me.” I scratched at my beard. “Ye think she’d even listen to the tape if I got it? That I’d even have a shot?”
“I think if you can get her to listen to the tape, and if it really talks about how much you love her, then she’d be a fool not to give you another shot. And...God, I’m going to regret this if it doesn’t go right, but I’ll help you in whatever way I can.”
An idea sparked in my head, but it was a gamble.
A big one.
“Do ye think ye can get her to a game for me?”
20
Annabelle
Draped in my favorite cream cashmere sweater and thick brown editor pants, I tried to click into Reaper arena with a mask of confidence and bravado. But even with the power-outfit and heeled boots, it wasn’t enough.
The past two weeks had been miserable. Every attempt from Connell to connect re-opened the wound that I doubted would ever heal. Even after many nights sleep, drinks with Echo, and diving head-first into my work, I missed him. Hated that I missed him so much, hated that I spent hours staring at my bedroom ceiling coming up with ways to rationalize his behavior. Forgive him.
But what would that make me? How could I trust what we’d had was real for him? Or would everything always be some hilarious joke?
I smoothed my sweater, my heart racing. After Echo had informed me about a check Persephone had collected on behalf of the reserve, I’d almost sent Lacy to retrieve it, but while I may have a broken heart, I wasn’t without my dignity.
The game had yet to start, but the stadium seats were full. The jumbotron played clips from previous games or advertisements for concessions before the game started. Rock music blared overhead, the guitar riffs and bold lyrics pumping up the already excited crowd.
I tried not to grind my teeth as I headed to where Echo had indicated I collect the check. Down the west corridor, toward where the hallway met the ice.
Somewhere in the locker room, Connell was likely lacing up his skates getting ready to tackle the ice in the way he did best.
I cringed at the hunger to see him, to set eyes on his strong jaw, his mischievous smile, to feel those strong arms cradle me like I was the most important person in the world.
I shoved those thoughts away, reminding myself of the very real pain from his words, from the articles.
“Love,” Connell’s voice sounded over the speakers, the music dying, the crowd instantly hushing. “It can look and sound like a lot of things,” he continued, and I whirled around, hearing him both over the loudspeakers and behind me.
And there he was in all his Reaper glory, his skates making him ten times taller than he already was. He glided toward me, smoothing over the ice like liquid silk, a microphone in his hand. He skidded to a stop, resting one hand on the partition that bordered the ice. I walked closer, my eyes wide as I tilted my head.
“This is what it sounds like to me,” he said, and he shifted on his skates, pointing to his ear.
My hands flew over my mouth as his voice filled the speakers...saying words I’d read before. The same horrible, awful quote that had shattered my heart in the first place. Yet, reading it and listening to it were two entirely different things.
Sarcasm and anger colored Connell’s tone.
And then…
“…ye can fuck right off.”
Tears filled my eyes as I continued to listen, my lips parting as I stared at Connell.
“…I happen to be madly in love with the woman I have waiting for me at home.”
I gasped into my hands.
“And now,” Connell said as the taped recording silenced. “This is what love looks like for me.” He pointed to the jumbotron, and I tore my gaze from him to look up.
A new video replaced the earlier advertisements and game footage. This one was recorded by Echo at the 5k when we opened the reserve. Connell, rushing up to me after the race, his ostrich costume bobbing with his movements as he scooped me up in a flurry, kissing me before racing off with me in his arms, a wide smile on his face, me laughing the whole way.
I chuckled, tears rolling down my cheeks as another clip rolled.
This one was a shot of Connell, sitting unknowingly on a bench in the locker room smiling up at my picture taped just underneath his last name. “Connell’s got a girlfriend,” Logan’s voice taunted from the other side of the camera. Connell leaped off the bench, laughter in his eyes as he tackled Logan to the ground, the camera cutting off in a shaky haste.
I dropped my hands as another clip played.
Connell filled the frame as he filmed himself in the basement of city hall. “Clearly, this chaos has needed my help for years,” he said, rolling his eyes. “This is my before shot—” my voice in the background, shouting at him from the top of the stairs to get his Scottish butt back upstairs to mop. His eyes lit up at the sound, gazing up the stairs in a look I could only describe as…adoring.
Another clip.
“And this is my after shot,” he said into the camera before panning it around the basement. Organized, sparkling, the exact dream for any city clerk. He’d revolutionized the area. “This will definitely make her life easier,” he said, grinning into the camera. “But I’ll do my best to shake her up every now and again.”
A laugh ripped from my chest as he winked at the camera and the jumbotron filled with pictures of him and me…ones I’d never seen. The pictures he or his friends had taken when I wasn’t looking, but Connell was.
Looking at me.
Those b
lue eyes alight with nothing but love, adoration, and perhaps lust.
Happiness.
“And,” Connell said into the microphone, the collective awes from the crowd echoing behind him. “If you’ve ever doubted how I spend my time during away games…” he shifted, shaking his head at the screen.
Video after video rolled, some filmed by him, some by Logan or Cannon or Sawyer.
A succession of silly pranks—buckets of water over the Vikings on the team, Lukas and Axel laughing but livid as they chased him down arena hallways. Shaving cream on the face of those players stupid enough to fall asleep in hotel lobbies. Cannon, furiously trying to open his book, which Connell had apparently glued shut.
I actually feared for him in that clip, not exactly sure how Connell was still alive.
Nathan Noble chasing Connell—who carried a massive gear bag—through a hotel lobby, Nathan in nothing but a tight pair of athletic underwear, Logan’s laugh sounding from the behind the camera as Noble screamed at Connell.
Laughter erupted from the crowd as the clips rolled on, but Connell returned his focus to me.
“I don’t have time for anything else in my life, Annabelle,” he said. “Just this, and you.”
My knees wobbled.
“As I hope you can clearly see,” he said. “I love you. And I’ll always love you.”
Another wave of awes soared through the crowd.
“Will ye have me?” He asked, hand outstretched toward me over the partition, his eyes vulnerable and raw.
My heart soared, love pooling within every inch of my soul, knitting together all the shattered, jagged pieces that had plagued me since that stupid article had hit.
I could not deny the proof he’d collected.
Or the simple fact that he’d just laid our relationship bare in front of a sold-out arena...and I didn’t care. No mortification. No worry of what the audience thought. I only wanted him. Nothing else mattered.
And I suddenly felt like the biggest ass in the world for being the last person to see it, to realize how he felt about me.
The same way I felt about him.
I choked back a sob, my feet propelling me toward him.
He dropped the mic on the ice, the crowd hissing from the quick assault on their ears, but soon they were cheering. Because Connell hauled me over the waist-high partition separating us, our lips a frantic and hungry meeting.
“I’m sorry,” I said between kisses. “I’m so sorry, Connell. I’m an idiot. I can be so blind—”
“Don’t,” he said, kissing me again. “Never again,” he said.
“Never again,” I promised, crushing my lips against his, my body flooding with heat and happiness and need.
The roaring crowd brought us right back to earth, and I buried my face in his shoulder.
“After the game,” he said, eyebrows raised. “Wait for me?”
I nodded as he gently set me back on solid ground. “Always,” I said.
He grinned that damn smirk of his, skating backward on the ice, his fists raised in victory as the crowd chanted his name over and over again.
And I couldn’t contain my smile or my laugh at the sight of my Reaper.
“Can I take ye home, now?” Connell asked as he came into the office Gage McPherson had so kindly let me wait inside—after handing me the check for the reserve that had brought me here in the first place.
Connell’s hair was still damp from his shower after the resounding win the Reapers’ had just delivered.
“Lock the door,” I said, slightly breathless.
Connell flashed me a half-smile, quickly locking the door behind him.
I hopped onto the desk, careful not to disturb anything behind me.
He cocked a brow as he stalked toward me. “Thought ye said you’d never be caught in public like this?”
I bit my bottom lip. “You’re worth the risk.”
His eyes shuttered at my words, his hands gentle as they snaked around my back as he stepped between my opened legs.
“You’re worth everything, Connell,” I said with more sincerity. “And I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have believed the article. I shouldn’t have cared what anyone else thought. You mean more to me than the prospect of anyone’s judgment.” I shook my head. “I won’t ever let anyone do that to us again. Open communication from here on out. I trust you. And I’m sorry for this broken piece of me that put us through this hell. I promise I’ll work on it. If you’ll have me.” I sighed. “Never again?” I repeated our earlier promise.
“Never again.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “I missed you.”
“I love you,” I breathed the words against his mouth, and he came unhinged. Unleashing himself on me in a flurry of lips and tongue and teeth. I gasped as he made quick work of dropping both our pants, shoving my lace to the side and sliding into me in one, smooth motion. His hands palmed my ass, leveraging my body on the desk as he pumped into me.
Each thrust a promise.
Each gasp from me an apology.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing myself as close to him as humanly possible. I claimed his mouth in the same way he claimed my body, working me up in a frenzy of thrusts and caresses. Drunk on the taste of him, I spiraled toward that sweet edge, begging him for more, more, more.
He obliged, his eyes on mine as drove into me like a man on a mission to brand himself on my soul. And damn me if he didn’t do just that. I clawed at his back, lightly biting his lip as pleasure coiled inside me.
Connell felt the shift, felt me plunging toward that explosive moment, and covered my mouth with his own, swallowing my would-be moans like his favorite drink.
I clenched around him, coming hard and fast as he took me deeper until his release quickly followed.
Our chests heaved as he held me, planting kisses along the column of my neck, the line of my jaw, and finally my lips.
I tangled my fingers in his hair, our eyes locking.
“Forgive me?” I asked, needing to hear him say the words. Needing him to absolve me of this flaw—of being blind and not giving him a chance to explain until I’d hurt us both.
He shook his head, and my heart lurched.
“Nothing to forgive, love,” he said, brushing his lips over mine. “My life…the public parts of it. I can’t promise they won’t come after us again. But I can promise you one thing.”
I swallowed hard, clinging to him with a held breath.
“I’ll love you forever.”
I smiled against his mouth. “Today,” I said, planting a kiss on his lips. “Tomorrow.” Another quick kiss. “And forever,” I promised him, and sealed the vow with a slow, deep kiss that made both of us forget how to speak at all.
Epilogue
Connell
Six Months Later
Late June was just as hot in South Carolina as I’d remembered it from last year.
“Thanks for coming to get me. Annabelle couldn’t get away from the office,” I told Logan as we pulled into my driveway.
“It’s no problem. Really. I’ve missed your ugly mug for the last few weeks. It was a good trip home?” His eyes flickered toward the house.
My hackles rose just like they did every time a Reaper tried to pull a prank on me. They had yet to pull it off because I was just that damn good at sniffing them out.
“Aye. It was nice to see my mum and introduce her to Annabelle. She left about a week ago to come home for work.” I put my hand on the door handle. “Everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah,” he assured me with a shrug.
My mind raced. Who else could be in on it? Only Annabelle had a key to my house, so that was safe. Had they broken into the garage? Covered my car with saran wrap? Faked a fake trade contract like I’d done to Sterling earlier this year?
“Okay, well, I’m going to go inside now,” I said calmly before opening the door.
“Have a good night. Let me know if you need anything.” His gaze flew to the left.
&n
bsp; Cannon’s house?
Cannon was the least likely of all of them to prank me.
Logan popped the trunk, and I grabbed my bag before shutting his hatch.
“See you!” He said with a giant grin. Then he pulled out of my driveway and headed toward his house, leaving me standing in my driveway with my bag and too many questions.
I popped out my cell and dialed, then punched in the garage code.
“Hey love, just wanted to tell ye that I’m home,” I said as the door rose.
“Yay! I’m at work, but I’ll see if I can duck out early. I’ve missed you.”
Her voice slid over my heart like velvet. “I’ve missed ye, too. You know, Logan was acting weird. I’m thinking he’s trying to pull a prank on me.” I examined my car, but there was...nothing. Everything looked just like it had when we left for Scotland weeks ago.
“Really?”
“He’s always wanted to get me back from the time I replaced the deodorant in his stick with cream cheese.”
“You did what?” she laughed.
“It was good. Trust me.” I opened the kitchen door and sighed in relief. “It must have been a false alarm.” I set my keys down on the counter and walked into the living room. All clear. Then I headed toward the entry.
“Oh, good. Look, I need to go over these new contract—”
“Holy fucking shite!” I exclaimed as I walked into the formal living room. Every piece of furniture was bolted to the ceiling. “The entire bloody room is upside down!”
“What?” she exclaimed.
“Those dobbers put our living room on the ceiling!” I turned under the furniture, both horrified and oddly impressed.
“Dobbers?”
“Never you mind,” I blurted. That wasn’t exactly something you told a lady.
“Okay, I’m just going to come home now.”
“When is the last time you were here?” I asked as I walked up the stairs, petrified of what else I might find.
“A couple of days ago? I’m so sorry, love, but you know my house is closer to work.”
Connell (Carolina Reapers Book 3) Page 19
