“I don’t mind it here,” I said with a shrug.
“Bullshit, you don’t.” She cocked her head. “You mean to tell me that if you could afford to move Calypso and Jester, you wouldn’t be on your way back to Cheyenne?”
“That doesn’t mean I hate it here.” I avoided her eyes. “Cheyenne is my hometown. If I could go back, I would.”
“So you’re not attached to this place.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m miserable.”
“Except you are miserable” she said. “Come on, Dani, up until the day you met Connor, you wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of Seattle.”
“I wanted to go back to Cheyenne.”
“Going back to Cheyenne and getting the hell out of Seattle are mutually inclusive, sweetheart,” she said with a grin. “Now, seriously. Ever since you hooked up with him, you haven’t said two words about Wyoming.”
I bit my lip. She had a point.
“And let’s face it,” she went on. “Even with my fabulous company, you hate this job.”
I laughed. “I like this job. I just hate our boss.”
“Right, well, there isn’t much you can do about him,” she said. “He comes with the territory. But you’d be perfectly happy working at another farm, wouldn’t you?”
Sighing, I nodded. “Yeah. I would.”
“Especially if that farm was in Northern California.”
I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed. “It’s just not that simple. I could go to work for another farm up here, trailer Jester and Calypso to that barn, and be done with it. Moving them to another state? I broke the bank moving them here in the first place.”
“Would you consider selling them?”
“Not a chance,” I said quickly, almost snapping at her. “I know you don’t get as attached to them as I do, but no. No way. Not those two.”
“You’d give up a man like Connor for your horses?”
“I’m not willing to gamble with them,” I said. “I’m not willing to sell them and hope to God things work out with Connor. What if they don’t? Then I don’t have him or the horses.”
“Hon, I know him,” she said. “If any man on this planet is worth that risk, it’s Connor.”
“And what if things don’t pan out with him?” I paused, biting my lip. “He was with his ex longer than I was with mine. Now he’s over her and ready to move me to another state to be with him?”
Susan shrugged. “So he got over her.”
“Right. So what happens if he decides to leave me like he did her? And, Jesus, look how fast he got over her and moved on to me. I’ve seen how fast he can get over a woman after five years. Who’s to say he won’t turn around and do the same to me before the ink is dry on my address change form?”
Susan swallowed, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess I can understand that. But I don’t think he’d do that to you.”
“Did you think he’d do it to Olivia? You thought she left him, remember?”
She nodded again. “I know. And it did catch me by surprise.” She was quiet for a long moment. Then she shook her head and sighed. “Maybe you’re right. I’ve never thought of him as having a revolving door, but…” She let out a breath. “I don’t know what to tell you, Dani, I’m just sorry things are working out this way.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek and avoided her eyes. “So am I.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Walking into Connor’s apartment, I tried to ignore the cardboard boxes in the corner. There were a few last time I was here, before he left for California. A few more now. There would be more tomorrow.
He wasn’t moving for a few weeks yet, and I wished that just this once, he’d put something off until the last minute. Never a procrastinator, he was well ahead of the game. Every time I came through this door, the boxes were piled a little higher, filling with pieces of his world in preparation for leaving mine.
“Drink?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder on the way into the kitchen.
“Whatever you’re having,” I said quietly.
He pulled a pair of beer bottles out of the refrigerator, popped them open, and handed one to me. I took a long drink and didn’t taste a thing. I was vaguely aware of cold liquid on my tongue, but with the exception of the faint scent of cardboard, I was numb to both taste and smell.
“You okay?” he asked.
I rolled another sip of beer around in my mouth, searching for the taste. It may as well have been brewed from corrugated cardboard.
“Dani?”
I sighed. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
He inclined his head, lifting his eyebrows inquisitively. “You sure?”
I nodded. Without even realizing what I was doing, I shifted my eyes toward the stack of boxes and packing material in the corner. His beer bottle made a hollow sound when he set it on the counter. Shoes tapped on the linoleum, and I closed my eyes when he came closer. I knew his touch was coming, knew he was close by, but tears still threatened when his hand landed gently on my hip.
With two fingers, he lifted my chin, and I opened my eyes, blinking away the tears.
“This is about my leaving, isn’t it?” he whispered.
As much as I could with his hand still under my chin, I nodded.
He took a deep breath and subtly squared his shoulders, like a man bracing for fist to the chest. In a soft voice, he said, “Have you given any thought to coming with me?”
It was my turn to take a deep breath. I dropped my gaze. “Connor, I can’t.”
He said nothing. I wasn’t sure if he was waiting for me to say more or if there was nothing else to say, but I needed to fill the silence.
“I’m sorry. I…” So much for filling the silence.
“Would I be wasting my time if I tried to talk you into it?” There was just enough of a lilt in his voice to suggest he was trying to add some nervous humor.
I met his eyes, managing a half-hearted smile. “It’s not that I don’t want to, there’s just…” Oh hell, might as well be honest. “You know why I came to Seattle in the first place, right?”
He nodded.
Avoiding his eyes, I said, “I can’t do that again, Connor. I completely uprooted my life to go with him, and…” I sighed. “Well, you know that story.”
“I know.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “And I can’t decide if I’m glad he brought you out here so I’d eventually meet you, or if I want to kick his ass for giving you a reason to doubt me.”
I tried to laugh, but couldn’t. “It’s not that I doubt you. I don’t think you’d be like that. It’s just…” This feels different, but how can I possibly know? And could you get over me as fast as you got over Olivia?
He took and released a breath. “You didn’t think he would do it either?”
I swallowed. Then nodded. “After four years, I thought I knew him. Obviously I didn’t. I’m sorry, Connor, I am. It’s just, I—”
“I understand,” he whispered, running his fingers through my hair. “I really do.” He smiled, if only half-heartedly. “Can’t blame a guy for trying, can you?”
I forced a smile. “No, I definitely can’t. And even with his sorry ass out of the picture, there’s my horses. It would cost a small fortune to move them that far, and I just can’t afford to do it again.” I chewed my lip, then quickly added, “And I can’t sell them.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to. I know how much they mean to you.” He kissed me gently. Then he let out a long breath and dropped his gaze. Barely whispering, he said, “As much as I don’t want to let this go, we can’t do this as a long distance thing.”
My heart sank a little deeper, even though I knew he was right.
He touched my face. “You have your commitments up here. I’m going to be up to my ass in school down there. We’d be lucky to get each other on the phone. And all the flying back and forth…” Sighing, he kissed my forehead and tenderly brushed his thumb across my cheekbone. “Those visits would be worth it, but we’d both
be miserable the other ninety-five percent of the time.”
“I know,” I whispered. “And we knew this was coming from the beginning.”
“I know we did.” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “I guess I didn’t realize we’d get…” He trailed off for a moment. “That we’d be like this.”
“So what do we do between now and then?”
“The same thing we’ve been doing,” he said. “We spend the next few weeks enjoying this as much as we can. Then we go our separate ways.”
“Do you think it’ll be that easy?”
“I never said it was easy,” he said softly. “But, it’s all we’ve got.”
“True.”
He swallowed hard, then smiled, and this time his eyes backed it up. “And if you find yourself in the Bay Area sometime, look me up.”
I smiled in spite of the lump in my throat. “Likewise, whenever you come up here.”
“You know I will.” His hand slid around to the back of my neck. “But, for the time being, we’re both here…” He grinned.
“And we’ve got a whole night all to ourselves.” I put my arms around him. “We should think of something to do with it.”
“I think I know exactly what we can do with it…”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Could you hand me that stack of newspapers?”
I picked up a stack and leaned over a couple of boxes to give it to Connor.
“Thanks.” He set it on the counter and continued wrapping a set of wine glasses. His kitchen was a mess of cardboard, newspaper, and bubble wrap. For the last couple of hours, we’d worked our way through cupboards, packing away dishes, utensils, pots, pans. All the things he’d need in San Francisco. Evan was letting him use his stuff between now and the move, so Connor had time to get ahead of the game and pack everything well in advance.
Though we kept the conversation light, an odd feeling coiled itself in my gut. Not nervousness, per se. Just… restlessness. Like anticipation of something that needed to happen or was about to happen. Something I didn’t want to happen, but at the same time, wanted to be over.
I knew what it was, but ignored it. So did he. We chatted like we had all the time in the world in spite of all the evidence to the contrary. Boxes. Possessions tucked into newspaper and bubble wrap. Empty shelves and cabinets. All around us, reminders of how little time we had left, but we pretended not to notice.
Piece by piece, we packed away his world while we compared notes about a couple of local Thai restaurants and the latest baseball scores.
“You know, I never asked,” I said, glancing up from carefully setting some wrapped bowls in a box. “How do you and Susan know each other? I mean, when did you meet?”
“Friend of a friend.” He laid two glasses in a box, then pulled another from the cabinet. “That whole bunch that hangs out down at the Pike Street Pub, we’ve been doing that for years. One of my friends invited me a while back, then his girlfriend invited Susan.”
“And then Susan invited me,” I said.
He smiled. “Exactly. I take it the two of you met at work?”
I nodded. “I met her on my first day, but she was a little cold toward me at first. Probably thought the owners had hired another nitwit like the last trainer who went through there.”
Connor laughed. “Well, obviously you hit it off eventually.”
“Oh yeah,” I said. “Didn’t take long at all. The first time I called our boss a moody motherfucker under my breath, she knew we’d get along.”
The rattle of car keys preceded footsteps, and Connor and I both looked up when Evan stepped into the kitchen.
“You’re not letting him take any of my stuff, are you?” he said, obviously trying to look stern, but failing miserably.
“Right,” I said. “Like I can tell your stuff from his.”
“See?” Connor put his hands up. “Anything of yours disappears? Blame her.”
“Hey!” I picked up a glass and acted like I was about to throw it at him.
He held a plate up like a shield. “Go ahead, I dare you.”
“Hey, now,” Evan said. “No violence. At least wait until I’m gone.”
Connor and I laughed and put our respective culinary weapons down.
“You out for the night?” Connor asked.
Evan nodded. “I’m meeting Robin, then I’m working in the morning, so you probably won’t see my ugly face until tomorrow night.”
“Works for me.” Connor gestured at the boxes and packing material. “I’ll try to have some of this cleaned up and out of the way by then.”
His roommate made a dismissive wave with his car keys. “Don’t worry about it.” He looked at his watch. “Anyway, I’m out of here. Don’t work too hard.”
“We won’t,” Connor said.
“I meant Dani,” Evan said. “You can work yourself into the ground for all I give a shit.”
Connor threw a ball of newspaper at him. Evan ducked, flipped him the bird, and left. A moment later, the front door closed and we had the apartment to ourselves.
The cupboard I was working on was empty, so I closed it and moved on to the next one. When I opened it, there were no dishes, but it was fully stocked with liquor.
“What about all of this?” I gestured at the bottles.
He pursed his lips and craned his neck. “Hmm, just grab the Tanqueray and the Skyy. I think they’re the only unopened bottles in there.”
“You planning on drinking the rest?” I pulled out the bottles of Tanqueray and Skyy.
“All that in two weeks?” He laughed. “Not a chance.”
A smartass retort stopped at the tip of my tongue as the words sank in. Two weeks. Not enough time to finish that cache of alcohol. Not enough time at all.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
I cleared my throat and shook my head. “Nothing.”
“You sure?”
I let out a breath and my shoulders dropped. I watched my hands half-heartedly cocooning the unopened bottle of Skyy in bubble wrap. “Just, hard to believe it’s so soon.”
“I know,” he said quietly. Dishes clinked and I looked up. He’d set a stack of plates down and paused, looking at the floor while he drummed his fingers on the counter.
“Guess time flies when you’re having fun.” I was nearly whispering.
“Yeah, it does,” he said just as quietly.
Swallowing hard, I set the half-wrapped bottle aside, and we avoided each other’s eyes. The only sound was the muffled crinkle of unfurling bubble wrap. Time definitely didn’t fly during moments like this.
After an eternity, I looked at him. Another age passed before he looked up. When our eyes met, my breath caught the very same way it had the first time he’d looked at me in another time and place, back when we were strangers.
Before I realized what I was doing, I was moving, stepping around boxes and over packing material, my eyes never leaving his. He met me halfway, cupping the sides of my neck while I grabbed the front of his shirt, and we pulled each other into a deep kiss.
We stumbled together, turned, tried to regain our footing, pulling each other off balance and trying to get that much closer. My hip slammed against a box. Newspapers hissed and rustled, presumably falling, but they didn’t matter. Connor bumped into another box and sent a tape dispenser rattling onto the floor. Something clattered. Something fell. The corner of something bit into my leg.
Then he pushed me up against the counter. I dragged his shirt up and he released me just long enough to get it over his head and out of the way. When we came back together, he pressed his hips against mine. Just the nearness of his hard cock to my clit made me shiver.
He slid his hands under my shirt and pushed it over my head. His fingers tangled in my hair and he pulled my head back, kissing my neck and collarbone so hard I was sure he would sink his teeth in. I dug my nails into his back and he released a sharp breath against my shoulder. Then he raised his head and kissed me again, both
of us alternately pulling the breath right out of each other.
We were moving again, the counter no longer pressing into my back. Still kissing, still clawing at each other, but moving. He led and I followed, taking a step back for every step he took forward, trusting that he wouldn’t run me into anything, not caring if he did. All I knew was that I needed him. If we crashed into something, so be it. If we tumbled to the floor in the hallway, then I’d have him there.
I just needed. Him. Now.
Still guiding us both down the hall, he kept a hand on the small of my back to steady me while the other went to my bra strap. With a quick, smooth motion of his fingers, my bra went slack about my shoulders. Any other night, he might have stopped to hold it up like a trophy, proclaiming his triumph at finally defeating that damned clasp, but not this time. His kiss never even missed a beat and my bra slid off my arms, falling forgotten to the floor.
We both stumbled and a second later, my back was against the wall. His lips went to my neck again, a low growl emerging from the back of his throat as if he was just barely keeping himself from biting me. I opened my eyes. The bedroom was still a few feet away, the bed several feet farther.
Here would just have to do.
With clumsy, shaking hands, I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. When I wrapped my fingers around his cock and stroked gently, Connor gasped. He let his head fall beside mine, moaning softly against my neck, his hips rocking back and forth in time with my strokes.
His hand slid down my leg and he pulled my knee up to his hip. With his free hand, he trailed his fingers over my pussy, teasing me through my jeans. I closed my eyes when he pressed his palm against my clit. My entire body trembled and my fingers tightened around his cock, in turn making him press a little harder with his hand.
“I want you so damned bad right now,” he growled against my lips. “Fuck, I could…” He tensed when I stroked faster. “I could fuck you right here.”
I shuddered. The sooner he was inside me, the sooner we’d relieve this maddening ache. But then this would be over sooner. Insatiable, immediate hunger grappled with the need to savor this—him—as long as humanly possible.
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