When we drove past my turn off, I looked over and blinked. “You missed it.”
“Missed what?” he uttered clinically.
“My turn off.”
“I said I was taking you home.” He smiled shrewdly. “I never said your home.”
My eyes narrowed. “Where are we going, Connor?”
He squeezed my thigh and I internally moaned. “Wanna see my digs?”
Uh… yeah.
I’d never been to his house. I’d never even seen it in magazines. Curiosity got the better of me. I wondered what Connor’s house would look like, what his room would look like. And I caved. “Okay.” I immediately added, “But no funny business.”
“What?” He sounded positively slighted. He glanced at me a moment before turning back to the road. “Baby, do you even know me? Would I ever put you in a compromising situation?”
“Yes!” I cried out, chuckling. “Yes, you would.” That was exactly how we got into this mess.
Connor grinned hard. “Oh, hush. I’m a perfect gentleman.”
My snort was loud and his responding laughter was beautiful.
Things were actually starting to feel normal again.
Not long after, we approached a gated community. Connor hit a button on the dash and the gates opened. We drove in and I couldn’t help but watch on in wide-eyed fascination as we passed rows and rows of houses. Well, mansions, to be more accurate.
Connor pulled into a wide driveway with huge cast iron gates and looked around the dash. He clicked his tongue and checked the center console. “Baby, can you check the glove compartment for a white remote?”
I did as asked but came up empty.
Connor sighed, opened the window and hit the button on the intercom. A moment later, he got a response. “Yeah?”
“It’s me. Let me in.”
“Where’s your remote?”
Connor appeared vexed. “I left it inside.”
“I told you to leave it in the car, dickhead.”
“I must’ve taken it out.” Then, nothing.
We waited but the gates didn’t open.
Connor shook his head and hit the button again. “Ricky, I swear to God, bruh.”
Laughter came from the speaker.
Connor shoved his body out the window, looked to the security camera by the gate, lifted both hands and flipped it the bird.
The laughter increased and, finally, the gates opened. We moved up the cobblestone drive and when the house came into view, my mouth gaped. I was in awe. “Connor, this is beautiful.”
Connor took in a deep breath, puffing out his chest. “Wait till you see the inside.” He parked out front, jogged to my side, and opened the passenger door. With a smirk, he held out his arms and I grasped onto his shoulders as he gripped my waist and pulled me into him. I slid down the length of his body and obscene images of memories past haunted me.
We looked into each other’s eyes a long moment and Connor’s face inched closer a millimeter but he hesitated.
Oh, Lord, I wanted his mouth on me.
Just as I moved to stand on my tiptoes and bridge the gap between us, the front door opened. The both of us turned to look as a man strode out of the house. He was tall, built and had a smile white enough to blind. He wore dark shorts, a white tee, and no shoes. His hair was dark under the cap he wore and, for some reason, he was sucking on a lollipop. His smile widened when Connor glared at him.
“Buenos dias.”
Connor’s hand came around my waist and he started to walk me over. “Whatever, you mutt.”
The other man laughed. “So, I made you wait. Big deal.” He glanced at me, ogling me openly. “Although, now, I see what the rush was.”
Connor pointed harshly. “You disrespect my wife, I disrespect your face.”
He looked to Connor and his brow rose. “You go out to lunch and come back with a wife?” He sighed, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ rock stars.”
Without stopping, Connor walked me past the man and into the house but he continued to speak, calling out, “I didn’t say I was going to lunch. I said I was going to get divorced.”
The door shut and from behind us came a scoffing, “And which one of those is more believable?”
Connor held me close but paused in the middle of the hall, turning to face the man. “Emmy, this is Ricky. Ricky, Emmy.”
Ricky watched me closely. “So, you’re Emmy.” He huffed out a laugh. “I thought you were made up or something.”
Okay then. The way he was inspecting me set my nerves on edge. “And you are?”
Connor cut in. “He’s my nurse.”
“Fuck you.” Ricky pushed at Connor’s shoulder. “I’m his brother.” He reluctantly added, “Who also happens to be a nurse.”
Connor mentioned he had a brother. If I remembered correctly, Ricky was gay.
“Yeah.” Connor chuckled. “Couldn’t quite cut it as a doctor, could ya, Rick?”
Ricky shrugged. “What can I say? I’m not into the slicing and dicing biz.” He continued to watch me closely. “Nice to meet you, Emmy.” His brows rose. “I guess this makes me your brother-in-law.”
“I guess it does,” was all I could think to say. “Although, maybe not for long.”
Ricky’s brow dipped. “So, what happened today?”
Connor said proudly, “Rita’s a fucking tank, that’s what happened.”
When Ricky’s eyes landed on me, I explained, “We have to be married one year and one day before we can file for divorce, because—” I smiled patiently at my husband. “—Connor won’t sign the damned papers.”
Surprisingly, Connor smiled, pressing a kiss to my temple and closing my eyes, I reveled in it.
We shouldn’t be like this. Not while we’re talking about divorcing. But we were because we never seemed to do things in the typical manner. And that was one of the things I loved about us. It was exactly the reason I humored our relationship. I thought that maybe, just maybe, we could make it work if we just avoided convention and took the road less travelled.
Ricky frowned at us, first peering at Connor then his eyes came to rest on me. He spoke slowly, thoughtfully, “You’re both taking this rather well.”
I couldn’t deny it. I didn’t blame Ricky for his hesitance. It was an odd situation.
Connor led me into the main entrance. It was white, marble, and stunning. A chandelier hung from the tall ceiling. From my position, straight ahead was the kitchen, to my left was a room full of guitars and music equipment and to my right was a home theatre.
I took a step forward and Connor lifted his arms, looking awkward and uncomfortable. “Hey, you mind if I shower?” When I threw him a peculiar look, he uttered a tentative, “The meds. They make me sweat.”
Oh. “Sure. No problem.”
He stepped into me. “You’ll still be here when I get out?” His hands gripped my chin and he gently shook it. “Not gonna try to escape, right?” His eyes narrowed before he wrapped an arm around my waist and held me to him. “Because that would suck.”
I looked up, into his eyes, and near-whispered, “I’ll be here.”
He huffed out a long breath before lowering his face. When he touched his lips to mine, I pressed into him, showing him I needed it just as much as he did. And then he was gone, rushing up the stairs. He pointed at his brother harshly. “Don’t steal my girl.” Before he disappeared into an open doorway, he winked.
The second he was out of sight, I took in a deep breath and exhaled shakily.
Ricky stared a long moment before he jerked his chin. “C’mon in. You hungry?”
“No. Thanks.” I followed him into the kitchen and faltered when I saw it.
This house was not what I imagined.
It was masculine yet warm. Dark wood on the floors, whites and creams colored the interior, vivid artwork lined the walls…. It was gorgeous.
Ricky pulled out a seat on the opposite side
of the counter. “Here. Sit.” I silently sat and watched as he opened the fridge and pulled out everything needed to make an omelette.
The words I spoke were slow and cautious. “He’s still on methadone?” I didn’t understand. Rehab was long over.
Ricky’s eyes widened. “God, no.” He retrieved a bowl from a cabinet. “He’s on anxiety meds.”
Ah. Thank God. That sounded far less scary.
He went about cracking eggs into a bowl and beating them. He talked to me as he did. “I’ve never seen him like that.” I didn’t know what to say. “Did you spike his drink?”
“What? No!” But when I saw his shoulders shaking, I realized he was pulling my leg. “Oh.” He laughed harder and I smiled. I saw a lot of Connor in Ricky. The most obvious, they were both smartasses.
When he started to chop up a green bell pepper, he peered up at me. “He talks about you all the time.” He did? “He was actually excited to go to mediation today.” Ugh. So was I. “Anything to see you again.” Same. Then he got serious. “He doesn’t want a divorce.”
Without Connor around, I found honesty, hard and true. “Neither do I.”
Ricky nodded solemnly. “I can see that. So why are you fighting him?”
My throat stuck. “You don’t know what he did to me.”
“I do,” he said. “I heard the song. I know what he did. All of it.”
“Then you know exactly why we can’t just pick up where we left off. We have too much history now. Trust has been broken.”
He poured the eggs into a pan and they sizzled. “Trust can be mended.”
It was easier said than done.
At my silence, he came forward to lean his elbows on the counter. “Picture this. Connor Clash, famous, rock god, wanted by women and men alike, the unobtainable man, groupie lover, happily single, falls for a twenty-something-year-old virgin.” He waved his arm in my direction. “Some li’l bit of a woman who hasn’t ever really lived before. What do you think, he wanted that?” Turning back and moving the pan around, he stated, “Shocked the shit out of him, left him feeling less like himself than ever before, because suddenly, he depended on somebody, wanted and needed somebody. And Connor didn’t need anybody.” He pointed the spatula in my direction. “Until you.”
The more he talked, the more I—grudgingly—began to understand.
Ricky went on. “You were the plot twist he didn’t see coming.” He huffed out a breath. “And then he lost you. You were gone, and nobody would tell him where you were or whether you were okay. He spent time your dementia-ridden grandmother, for fuck’s sake.”
My stomach shimmied.
I had my suspicions on just who had paid my grandmothers tenancy at St Jude’s but every time my thoughts drifted to Connor, I denied he would ever do something so selfless. But I was angry and hurt. Now, thinking about it, it made perfect sense. Because Connor wasn’t an asshole. He just played one to his worldly audience.
Only, I knew better.
“He did?” My voice was weak.
“He did.” Ricky put his omelette onto a plate. “And while everyone else is going about their lives, Connor comes crashing down to earth with the realization of what he’s done, of what he’s lost.” He forked the eggs into his mouth and garbled, “He can’t cope. Turns to drugs, again.”
“I didn’t want that.”
Ricky swallowed and made a face. “Nobody wanted that but that’s the point that Connor, bless him, loses the will to live. Goes on a bender then another until, whaddaya know, it’s a month later and he hasn’t showered. And I’m working interstate, none the wiser.” He ruefully looked down at the counter. “Until that fucking interview went viral.”
Shame filled me. It had always seemed like I was the only victim here. Alas, Connor was a victim of his own destructive ways. “Connor’s good at hiding himself.”
Finished with his meal, he placed his plate into the sink, gripping the edge, leaning over it. “Mark my words. If you didn’t show up when you did, I’d be putting flowers on his grave.”
The thought sent a shiver through me.
“He’s doing everything he can to be an improved version of himself. He’s motivated, determined to be a better man, and it’s all for you. I know it.” Ricky stood and looked me deep in the eye. “So, don’t break up. Fix it. Be romantic and date your husband like he wants to date you. Let him work to win you over. Love each other now, because life is short and you’re too young to live with regret.”
Each word hit me, and they hit me hard enough to knock the breath out of my lungs.
It was strange, surreal even. As if abruptly every doubt in my mind had been expelled.
Without uttering a single word, I stood and walked away, taking the steps slowly until I was at the top of the staircase. I heard rustling and followed the sound until I came to stand in the doorway of Connor’s bedroom.
It was huge and, immediately, my eyes were drawn to the bed. It was neatly made, the bedspread was completely black and I smiled to myself.
Letting myself in, I closed the door behind me then kicked off my heels. I followed the rustling until I came to be in Connor’s bright white en suite. Watching him from the doorway, my heart stuttered when I saw Connor standing by the mirror, toweling himself off. My eyes drifted down to his boxers and the familiar bulge there made my stomach dip and the apples of my cheeks heat.
“Hey,” he said, and I heard his smile but continued to look at his crotch.
“Hey.” When I finally lifted my eyes to meet his, I whispered, “I missed you.”
Connor smiled down at me, affectionately. “I was coming back down in a minute.”
But, deliberately, I shook my head and my throat was suddenly tight. I tried to make him understand. I spoke slowly, clearly. “I missed you.”
When I stepped forward and approached, he looked unsure. Even more so, when I pressed myself into his front and placed a soft kiss to the center of his chest.
“Baby?”
My heart thumped when I took his hand. He let me lead him out of the bathroom and toward the bed. When I stopped at the foot of it and reached behind me, unzipping my skirt, I said, “Here’s what’s going to happen. You and I are starting over, from scratch.” He looked at my bare legs as the skirt slipped down to the ground and I stepped out of it. “You’re going to have to work harder than you ever have in your life.” Reaching down, I gripped the hem of my tight black tank and pulled it up, over my head. I shook my hair out. “You need to be prepared, Connor. I’m not going to make it easy on you.”
Connor’s eyes hooded. His gaze roamed my body and he swallowed hard.
Bared to each other, I took a step forward, gently grasped his hand and slid it around my body, pressing it against my lace-covered ass cheek. His brows narrowed, his lips parted and his grip tightened on me. His free hand moved to join the other and I internally smiled.
Oh, I was a cruel woman.
“Connor?”
His response was husky. “Yeah, baby?”
“I just have one rule.” My hands slid up his hard chest.
“What’s that?” He was barely focused.
Here it comes.
“No sex.”
When I said what I said, Connor’s hands stilled in their ministrations and his eyes shot to mine then silence.
Oh, yeah.
That’s happening, husband mine.
My intense gaze dared him to question me. He didn’t but he did lower his forehead to my shoulder with a long, pained groan and I couldn’t help it. He sounded so down that I just had to laugh softly. When he nipped my shoulder, I yelped and smacked at his chest. His low chuckle followed. “You’re gonna enjoy torturing me, aren’t you?”
I pulled back and blinked innocently. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
His chuckle turned into a groan then morphed into a growl. When he let out a harsh sigh and squeezed my ass hard enough to leave marks, I knew we were
doing this. He confirmed not a moment later. “Rules? Lay it out for me, Emmy.”
Oh, God, he was hot. I couldn’t stop touching him. “Kissing is okay. Touching too.” Duh. “Over clothing, of course, and anything below the waist is a no-go zone. And, lastly—” I sighed as I said it, because I wanted it probably as much as Connor did. “No penetration.” I drew small circles on his chest. “Of any kind.” I peered up at him. “Okay?”
A reaction I wasn’t expecting formed. His brows furrowed but he softened it with a smile and what he said let me know I was making the right decision. “I love you, Emmy.” He cupped my cheek and I leaned into his touch. “I’ll take what I can get.”
It was almost enough for me to strip down and climb him like the tree he was, but I stayed strong. I wanted this relationship to work, and in order for that to happen, we had to go back to basics.
This wasn’t a punishment. This was a second chance. We had to do it right. We couldn’t risk not doing this right. There was too much to lose.
My voice was small. “I love you more.”
“Impossible.” Lightning fast, he bent down, gripped my ass and hauled me up. A shocked squeak escaped me and I scrambled to hold onto him, my legs wrapping tightly around his hips. He grinned and awash with a rush of emotion, I kissed him, laughing softly into his mouth.
Sometime later, after a monster make-out session, we lay in bed together. My body draped over Connor’s, I sighed happily.
We probably should’ve waited to tell anyone, take some time to ourselves to reconnect and, hopefully, build back the trust we’d lost. There would be many questions raised and I didn’t think I had it in me to share with the world where Connor and I had really begun.
Connor’s hand slid up my thigh to rest at the curve of my ass. It felt perfect, as if this was exactly where we were meant to be.
Together.
With my eyes closed, I rested, breathing deeply, and just when I started to fall asleep, I heard the sound of a shutter clicking followed by a flash.
Frowning, I lifted my head to peek up at him. “Did you just take a photo of me?”
“Of us.” He grinned and he looked so intensely happy that I couldn’t help but smile in return.
Clash Page 30
