by Inara Scott
Connor shook his head. “Dunno.”
What he was doing with Zoe definitely didn’t count as dating.
Nate steepled his fingers in his lap. “I’ll answer that one. Too long.”
Mason acknowledged Nate’s response with a tiny nod of his head. “Exactly. The two of us were just talking about it this morning. And we think we know why.”
Connor sighed. “Why?”
“Zoe.”
His heart stopped for a moment, then restarted in an erratic fashion. “Zoe?” he managed to spit out. “What do you mean?”
“Look, we all know you’ve had a thing for her since you met her,” Nate said. “And I know you think it’s a bad idea to get involved with her, which is probably true. But this alternative thing you’re doing, where you stare at her across the room and then go home at night and cry like a baby into your pillow, isn’t working, either.”
Connor sank lower into his desk. His phone buzzed again, this time a call. He didn’t bother to pull it out of his pocket, just reached inside and hit the off button. “It’s not working?” he rasped.
“Not working,” Mason said firmly. “And I think it’s time to get the hell over it.”
Tiny explosions were going off behind his eyes. “Get over it.”
“Get over her,” Mason clarified.
“You could always ask her out,” Nate said. “But we all know she’d probably say no. We work together, and that makes things complicated.”
“You don’t say,” Connor muttered.
“Besides, you haven’t had the balls to do that for three years, so it’s probably safe to say you won’t. We think it’s best that you move on,” Mason said. “And this weekend is the perfect opportunity for you to do so.”
“How so?”
“Well,” Mason said, “consider it exposure therapy. We’ll be in one of the most romantic places in the world. There will be lots of wine. There will be revelry late into the night. And as far as I know, Zoe hasn’t been dating much lately, either. She may even pick up a guy.”
Connor looked back and forth between the two of them. He wasn’t sure if the feeling rising in his chest was an enormous bubble of sick laughter or fury. “You want me to watch Zoe pick up a guy?”
“I considered inviting Hugh,” Mason said. “But that felt like taking things too far.”
“You are not inviting Hugh,” Connor said darkly.
“See?” Nate said, spreading his hands. “Perfect example. I don’t like him, either, but you can’t keep mowing down random guys who happen to express an interest in Zoe. Look, whatever you want to do, we’ve got your back. You know that. You want to drop Hugh, just give us the word. But honestly, we think it’s time for you to make your move or move on. Find a new woman to pine away after if you want, but let Zoe go.”
This was his worst nightmare. Now, not only were they going to insist that he go to Sonoma, they would be watching him the whole time.
Should he come clean and admit the whole affair? That was tempting. But he couldn’t do it. Not only did he not want to deal with the endless harassment, Zoe didn’t want her partners to know about whatever it was they were doing. The secret belonged to both of them.
Besides, what would he say? He and Zoe were like a firecracker exploding into the sky. They were surely flying higher and farther than he’d ever imagined, but just as surely it wouldn’t be long before they flared out. And then what? Long, sympathetic looks at him from across the room? Hushed tones before a meeting? Or worse, the guys trying to convince him to make it a real relationship, when he knew better than anyone what a terrible idea that was?
No, the secret needed to continue. Even if he hated every minute of it.
“I’m not making a move on Zoe,” he said, summoning up all his latent acting talents. “We all know why it’s a terrible idea. I’m not going to ruin our friendship over a failed attempt at a date.”
“Connor,” Mason said, “you aren’t nearly as inept with women as you like to think you are.”
“Oh, I’m pretty inept,” he replied.
“You’re screwed up, is what you are,” Nate said. “You really think the whole thing with your dad didn’t leave some profound scars on you? That guy made you think you couldn’t be trusted, so you screw things up with women to prove it. God knows you aren’t perfect, but this whole thing you’ve built up around yourself, like you’re somehow destined to be an asshole… Honestly, it’s just not you.”
His phone buzzed again.
“Someone really wants to get a hold of you,” Mason observed.
“Yeah.” Connor gave them a self-deprecating smile as he silenced his phone again. “Look, you’re one hundred percent right. Both of you. Whatever you said, which I’ll admit I wasn’t listening to entirely.”
Nate sighed. “I just dropped some profound wisdom on you. The least you could do is be grateful.” He turned to Mason. “I don’t think interventions work if the interventionee just ignores you.”
“Really, whatever you said was incredibly insightful. I swear it. And I’ll plan on going to Sonoma,” Connor said. “And maybe I’ll ask someone else out while I’m there. Cecilia’s coming, isn’t she?”
Nate straightened abruptly. “Cecilia?”
“You know, blonde? Gorgeous? Friend of Tess’s?”
Nate turned slightly green but tried to play it off. “Sure, I know her. Almost killed her the other night. Or maybe she almost killed me. Either way, if you want to hook up with the ice princess, you go right ahead.”
Mason whistled. “I must admit, I hadn’t considered that. Talk about out of the frying pan!” He stood and headed for the door. “Look, you do what you want, old man. Just promise me you won’t spend the night moping around after Zoe.”
Connor stuck his hand in his pocket and held the phone as it buzzed again. “I promise.”
Chapter Twenty-One
By the time Zoe got to Connor’s apartment later that night, she was exhausted. It had been an endless day of preparing for her meetings and court date, finishing a draft of a motion for a pleading that was due the next week, and reviewing the first part of a huge pile of emails in preparation for her trip to Las Vegas. Not to mention following up with an accountant who used to work at Southcycle that her engineer friend had suggested she talk to before her meeting with Aims, and a call to Shirley’s son, who had worked for Tesla and had given her a few tips about electric motors.
But underlying everything was the thrill of knowing she’d done it. She’d gotten her foot in the door and scored an interview with Aims. The hard part came next. But she was taking this victory for all it was worth.
She rang Connor’s bell from the lobby. “It’s Zoe,” she called into the speaker.
“The Zoe Riva I’ve been hearing so much about? World-renowned electric motorcycle and whiskey expert?”
She laughed into the intercom. “Yeah, something like that.”
He buzzed her in, and she headed up to his apartment. They’d talked briefly that afternoon after his conversation with Mason. She’d hoped to avoid having him there with the group, but with no graceful way for him back out of it, she figured they could handle it.
She arrived at his apartment a few minutes later, and he met her at the door with a whiskey drink in a martini glass garnished with a slice of orange. “You are so good to me,” she murmured, dropping her bag and taking the drink with a greedy hand. The mixture was sweet and fruity, with a combination of flavors that she couldn’t quite identify. “What is this?”
“Blood and sand,” Connor replied. He must have recently returned from the gym, because his hair was wet, and he wore a clean white T-shirt and pair of long plaid pajama bottoms.
Zoe loved those damn pajama bottoms more than she could express. First, she loved them because there were few things quite as hot as a guy with a six-pack wearing plaid pajamas and a T-shirt as he made you waffles on a Sunday morning.
Next, she loved them because they were his lounging pan
ts, and it never failed to amaze her that they had gotten so comfortable with each other that he would greet her at the door wearing his comfy clothes. Wasn’t that something that happened after you were married? Hell, she had no idea, because she’d never gotten to that point with a guy before. They simply had a level of comfort with each other she’d never experienced. They’d even had the previous-partners-and-birth-control talk—she was on the pill but wasn’t surprised to find Connor didn’t mind doubling up for safety—and there was none of the usual awkwardness.
“What’s in it?”
“Blended scotch—Compass Box Asyla, to be precise—sweet vermouth, some cherry liqueur, and orange juice.”
“Well, it’s exactly what I wanted. Other than food.”
He watched her prowl into the kitchen with a smile. “You’re just using me for my cooking and cocktails, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “Oh, absolutely. And sex. Actually, it’s mostly about the sex. But tonight I want the cocktail and food first. You’re going to have to earn the sex.”
He grinned wider. “I think I’m up for the challenge.”
She swiped piece of crispy bacon from a skillet, where bits of bacon were mixed with perfectly cooked green beans, and moaned a little at the taste. “If you feed me bacon for dinner, I’ll consider the sex earned.”
They ate their meal while watching SportsCenter, then cleaned the kitchen together in an easy routine. As they were finishing up, the intercom buzzed.
Connor spoke into the panel. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Mason. Can I come up?”
Zoe’s eyes bugged out. She shook her head even as Connor said, “Sure, no problem,” and hit the buzzer.
“What are you doing?” she hissed. “How are we going to explain this?”
Connor held out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say. I panicked and did what I would normally do.”
Zoe ran and grabbed her briefcase from the front door. “Bedroom?” she asked Connor.
He grimaced. “I guess? I mean, I can’t think of any reason he’d go in there.”
“Perfect.” She headed for his bedroom with briefcase in hand, then squealed when she realized her coat was still on the sofa. She dropped her bag by the bed and ran out, grabbed the coat and ran back in.
She had just closed the bedroom door behind her when she heard Mason greet Connor. Heart beating, she stood next to the door, trying to make out the conversation. At first, all she could hear was the rumble of voices, but as they got closer she could hear more clearly.
“…make sure you are okay with going out this weekend. Didn’t want to give you too hard a time about Zoe.”
Hard time about Zoe? She took a moment to process the information, then took a step closer to the door. Why would Mason be giving Connor a hard time about her?
“It’s fine, really. No big deal. You didn’t have to come all the way over here for that.”
“Really, I shouldn’t have pressured you about it. And I understand it’s complicated.”
“Seriously, it’s not a big deal.”
Not a big deal? What had Mason pressured him about? And what did this all have to do with her?
“Good.”
They must have moved into the kitchen, because the voices grew muffled again. Zoe leaned over and pressed her ear to the door to try to hear things more clearly. This evening was turning into a complete cluster. The only thing that would make it worse would be for Mason to unexpectedly open the door and have her fall out into the hallway.
Damn it, now she could only make out fragments of the conversation.
From Mason: “…don’t mean to be an asshole about it…” and “…Zoe is great, but…”
And then Connor: “…drop it…” and “…moving on…”
Zoe tried to remain calm and not jump to conclusions. Had Connor told Mason what was going on between them? After they’d agreed to keep it a secret? That would really suck, especially if Luke found out from someone other than her.
When she’d talked to Connor about Sonoma, he’d just said that Mason had noticed he’d been distracted lately and hadn’t been out for a while, so he’d pressured Connor to come with them. But had there been more to the conversation than that? And if so, why hadn’t Connor told her about it?
The more she thought about it, the more annoyed she became. Connor and Mason had clearly had a conversation about her. But why? What had they discussed?
Mason stayed for about twenty minutes, but from the bits of conversation she overheard, after that they mainly just talked about some new clients Mason was cultivating and the progress on the house that Tess was building. Zoe eventually pulled her phone from the outside pocket of her bag and checked her email, then opened a document she’d been meaning to look at for a while. She was so engrossed in her work that she almost missed it when the men’s voices started to come closer again.
“…T-shirt?”
Crap!
They were definitely heading toward the bedroom.
Zoe looked back and forth around the room, looking for a place to hide. What the heck would Mason think if he found her here, of all places? They’d never be able to explain it.
Without thinking further about the utter ridiculousness of what she was about to do, she grabbed her coat and bag and dropped to the floor next to the bed. With a shove, she pushed the briefcase and coat underneath, and then followed with her body. Luckily, Connor’s large bed provided plenty of space underneath, and the carpet was spotless. Not a dust bunny to be found.
“I swear, I don’t have your damn MIT T-shirt.” They must have been right outside the door now, because their voices were clear. Connor sounded genuinely annoyed. Or panicked. Probably both.
“It’s just that it’s my favorite,” Mason was saying apologetically. “You mind looking?”
“I can look later tonight,” Connor said. “I think I have a load in the wash anyway.”
“Come on,” Mason said, cajoling. “Just take a quick look. I’ll sleep better if I can find it.”
Connor sighed loudly. “I guess I’ll just check the dresser,” he said, his voice noticeably louder than usual.
No wonder he’d enlisted her help with his mother. Connor would make a terrible spy.
The door opened, and they walked in the bedroom. Zoe could see feet approach the dresser and stop in front of it.
“Nope,” Connor said a moment later, “nothing there.”
“Weird,” Mason replied.
“So, how about you leave it alone now?”
“Sure,” Mason said easily. “Sorry to bug you.” Zoe heard a sound like Mason had clapped him on the shoulder. They headed back out of the room.
She sighed in relief. A few minutes later, Connor’s feet returned. “Zoe?” he called into the room. He went into the closet, then the bathroom, calling her name again. She rolled out and was sitting on the bed when he returned. He jumped when he saw her.
“So,” she said, gaze narrow. “You going to tell me what the hell you and Mason were talking about?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Connor’s gaze dropped to Zoe’s chest. The top button on her shirt had come undone, giving him an unfettered view of her cleavage, which, despite the seriousness of the moment, led to a predictable physical response.
She noted the direction of his eyes with a scowl. Deliberately, she sat up straighter but did not button her shirt. “I’m already pissed,” she said. “Don’t make it worse.”
He tried to stall to figure out his next move. “I’m sorry, I had no idea Mason would stop by. He does that sometimes.”
“That’s not what I’m mad about, and don’t try to pretend it is.”
“Seriously,” he tried again. “He was just here to apologize for strong-arming me into going to Sonoma.”
She gestured for him to continue. “And?”
“And?”
She stood. “I’m not playing games here. Either you explain wh
at Mason was talking about or I’m out of here.” He gaped at her for a minute, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t do lies, Connor. Did you tell Mason what’s going on between us? And if so, please tell me exactly what you said, because I think we had a deal, and if one of us reneged on that deal, that person should come clean.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “No, I didn’t tell Mason anything. Look, I don’t know what you heard, but the truth is that I’ve, ah, sort of…” He trailed off. “Shit, Zoe, the truth is that I’ve sort of had a thing for you for a little while now, and Mason knows it. So does Nate, if we’re being totally honest.”
Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting that. Her eyes widened in surprise. “A thing…for me?”
“Yes, you.” He gestured toward her helplessly. “I mean, come on. Look at yourself.”
She swallowed. “You told Mason that you…that you think I’m…attractive?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I said. ‘Hey, Mase, don’t you think Zoe’s attractive?’” He walked over to where she stood, arms still crossed but loose now, and took her chin in his hand. “It wasn’t like that. And it’s not just that you’re hot, which, of course, you are. It’s the whole package. You’re sexy and smart and tough as nails. How could I not have a thing for that?”
She was gaping at him now like he’d grown a third head. “You said all that to Mason?”
He blew out a breath and dropped his hands. Women. Did she really imagine he and Mason sat around and ate ice cream and talked about their feelings? He didn’t even know what his feelings were, let alone talk about them with another man.
“We’ve been friends a long time. I didn’t have to say anything. In fact, I would prefer not to talk about it at all. Not really my thing, you know.”
“And this has been going on for…a while?”
He shrugged. Really, did she need to have him spell it out completely? “Yeah. A while.”
“So what does that have to do with Sonoma?” she asked, her eyes big and soft.
“First of all, he thinks I’m depressed.”
“Why?”
