“Yeah. Getting her out was tricky, but she’s back home with her family.” Keith positioned himself on the bench below the bar. “Do you mind spotting me?”
He’d asked Keith to do the same for him on numerous occasions when he bench-pressed. Somehow Connor always managed to get in one or two more reps if a buddy spotted him. The person didn’t have to do a single thing but stand there with his hands just below the bar, but it always helped.
“You got it.” Connor positioned himself at the head of the bench as Keith gripped the bar.
Keith punched out his first set and grabbed the water bottle on the floor. Then he moved off the bench so Connor could get in a set of reps.
“I’ve got an extra ticket to the ball game today. It starts at five. Baltimore is playing New York. It should be a good game,” Keith said as Connor pressed the bar up one last time and racked it. “Interested in coming?”
“Get dumped again?” Connor grabbed his bottle of water and took a swig.
With a sarcastic laugh, Keith switched places with him on the bench. “You’re thinking of your track record with women, not mine.” Although in position, he didn’t reach for the bar. “I called it quits. Sharon was getting too clingy. She wanted to move in with me. We had some fun together, but I’m not ready for a live-in girlfriend.” Reaching up, he gripped the bar. “Do you want the ticket or not?”
He wasn’t a Baltimore fan, but he never turned down an invitation to a baseball game. If Keith had asked him sooner, he would’ve accepted the ticket without any hesitation and enjoyed a night out with a buddy. As Keith lowered the bar toward his chest and back up, Connor considered the offer. He was picking Becca up at one. It was possible they’d spend less than thirty minutes together, and he’d have the rest of the day free. He had no way of knowing.
“I’ve got plans already. Wish you’d asked me sooner.”
Keith shot him a knowing grin. “Who is she? Anyone I know?”
“Your sister.” Connor waited for his friend’s reaction.
“I’d have to kill you if you ever went near Jen. Not that she’d ever look twice at you. She’s got good taste in men,” Keith said. “Seriously, what beauty is keeping you company today? And where did you meet this one? Another waitress from Shooter’s, or is it Candy again?”
Beauty describes Becca André to a T.
“I haven’t seen Candy in months. I’m getting together with someone I went to high school with.” Too many years had passed for him to call Becca a friend. “But if you want Candy’s number, stop by the pub. I’m sure she’d give it to you.” Several times over the past few months, Keith had mentioned the cute waitress from Shooter’s. Connor wondered if the guy was interested in her himself.
“I don’t need your leftovers.”
Ready to get in his second set, Connor didn’t comment as he took his place on the bench.
“Don’t leave me hanging. Details. You never mention any friends from high school. This one must be either smokin’ hot or special to you.”
“I never said the classmate was a she,” Connor said as he gripped the bar.
His friend crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at him. “If you’re passing up a night of baseball, it must be a female classmate. So, which is it? Hot or special?”
He would only get Keith to shut up one of two ways: either punch the guy or answer him. A punch to the face while they boxed was one thing. Punching him for simply giving him a hard time was another. “Hot as hell.”
Connor pictured her sitting next to him in the café. And a little special too.
He kept the thought safely stored in his brain. Keith would torment him for the next week if he let the little tidbit leak. And, although he’d never admit it to anyone, it was true.
Their brief involvement the summer after graduation hadn’t been purely physical. He’d enjoyed the time they spent together, doing nothing but talking on the beach or mountain biking. She’d been the first girl he’d wanted to be with because he enjoyed her company rather than because he wanted to score. There hadn’t been another he could honestly say he’d felt that way about since her, either.
“I’d probably pass on the ball game tonight, too, if I were you.” Keith reached for his water again. “Maybe I’ll see if Salty wants the ticket.”
“He left for Georgia on Thursday. His family is celebrating his grandmother’s one-hundredth birthday,” Connor answered. “Call Mad Dog. She’s a huge New York fan.”
“How’s she doing?”
The same attack in Paris that had left him with stitches had left Maddie with a broken leg and a few bruised ribs.
“Last time I talked to her, she was about as pleasant as a rabid dog.” Connor understood his friend’s crankiness. Sitting around and doing nothing didn’t work for people like them. “Being stuck at home is driving her nuts. Coleman won’t let her even set foot in the office until next week. And even then she’ll be stuck doing support work from behind a desk until the doctor clears her.”
“I’ll give her a call.” Keith added more weight plates to the bar. “Hot classmate, huh? How’d that happen? Got the impression you didn’t bother with anyone you went to high school with. Not that I blame you. There aren’t many from high school I keep in contact with, either.” He slipped another plate onto the opposite side of the bar. “Where did you go to school, anyway?”
Unlike other members of the team who shared details about everything, even their childhoods, Connor never shared anything about his life before joining the Marines.
“I grew up and went to school in Connecticut.” No need to share that he’d lived the first eighteen years of his life in one of the wealthiest towns in the United States. “After I got my stitches out, I went to the café down the street and bumped into Becca. She works in D.C. for some senator.”
Keith positioned himself under the bar. “I’m sure you’ll have more fun tonight than me.” He wrapped his hands around the bar. “Ready for one last set?”
He didn’t expect to have the type of fun Keith was alluding to. No way would he admit it, though. “Trust me. I plan to.”
***
Becca picked up her pace. Multiple times this week she’d gotten the feeling someone was watching her. As she crossed the parking garage, it returned, making her quite glad Danny had left when she did and now walked next to her.
“Minor crisis averted,” Danny said.
She nodded. When Becca had gotten the call to come in this morning, she’d feared the problem would take all day to resolve. Normally getting called in on a Saturday morning didn’t bother her. After all, she’d known what she was getting into when she took the position with Senator Lynch. This morning she’d cursed all the way through her shower and into the office. She’d given Connor her number and address, but she hadn’t thought to ask for his. She had no way of contacting him to reschedule their plans, and she hated the idea of standing him up if she ended up stuck at the office all day. Especially since, if she did, it would most likely mean she’d never see or hear from him again. Thankfully, they’d come up with a solution and she should manage to at least get home before Connor arrived.
“For now anyway,” she said. “It’s going to need a more long-term solution at some point.” She looked around the garage. All the cars appeared to be empty, and they were the only ones walking inside. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone watched her.
Danny stopped between their cars. “Agreed, but now we have a little more time to come up with one.” He leaned against his vehicle as she opened her car door. “I’m meeting Glynnis over at Wired for lunch. Interested in joining us?”
She regularly went out with Danny and his wife. She’d visited their home on countless occasions too. In fact, she considered them her closest friends in the area. “Thanks, but not today. I have plans this afternoon.”
Calling it a date was inappropriate, even though she was more excited about this outing than she had been about any of the recent date
s she’d gone on. “Sometime soon you both need to come over for dinner. It’s my turn to host.”
“Looking forward to it. Don’t tell my wife, but you make the best chicken masala I’ve ever tasted. Glynnis tries, but hers doesn’t even come close.”
“My lips are sealed. See you Monday.” Getting behind the wheel, she waved goodbye and backed out of her parking space.
As she drove toward home, the unease from inside the garage disappeared and excitement replaced it. If she’d been smart, she would’ve given some thought to where they should go. While they could stay at her house, she wasn’t sure when Kassidy would be home. She hadn’t seen her stepsister in over a week. She’d stopped home for clothes one night after work so she could spend the night at her newest boy toy’s place. Before leaving, she’d mentioned she was flying out to the Lafayette laboratory in Seattle again in a few days and wasn’t sure when she’d be back. Since Becca wasn’t Kassidy’s significant other, she hadn’t pressed for answers.
It would be awful timing if Kassidy walked in the front door while Connor was visiting. She’d rather not have Kassidy ask any questions that would trigger unpleasant memories for him. She assumed he’d avoided town all these years because he wanted to bury any and all thoughts of his father’s arrest and trial, and all the publicity that had accompanied both. Not that she blamed him.
When federal investigators uncovered Patrick Anderson’s Ponzi scheme, they arrested him for investment fraud as well as several other federal felonies. Connor’s mother might be back in the fold now, but initially, the town and many in their social circle had blackballed the entire Anderson family. Subjected to the same treatment, Becca would’ve left town too and never returned.
Becca watched the dark blue SUV stop outside her town house as she turned down the street. Before she reached her driveway, Connor climbed out, looking far sexier than any man should. So much for beating him here.
Connor was halfway up the walkway when she pulled into the driveway. When he saw her car, he stopped. Dressed in cargo shorts and a black polo shirt, and wearing sunglasses, he put every one of her recent dates to shame.
“Sorry I’m not ready,” Becca said, approaching him. “Last-minute emergency at work.” She paused next to him and wondered if he’d consider a hug too forward. “When Ted called me in this morning, I feared I’d be stuck at the office all day.”
He removed his sunglasses and hung them near the buttons on his shirt. “You could’ve called and rescheduled. I would’ve understood.”
Although every female hormone in her body screamed touch him, she kept her arms safely locked against her sides. “If I had your number, I probably would have. There’s nothing worse than being stood up.” She started toward the front door. “But I forgot to ask you for it before I left the café.” Not something I plan on forgetting today. Unless this afternoon turned into a total disaster, she hoped to see him again.
Unlocking the door, she turned the handle. “It won’t take me long to change.”
She pushed the door open but hesitated when she heard an engine start. Turning, Becca watched the compact car across the street pull away from the curb. The same car had been parked there last night when she came home. It had also been there two days ago—or at least one that looked just like it had been. She hadn’t taken the time to check the license plates. Now she wished she had.
As she watched the vehicle leave, she again wondered who it was. The car certainly didn’t belong to the Smiths, her neighbors across the street. They didn’t drive anything with a price tag under seventy-five thousand. She’d met some of the Smiths’ family members and friends. None of them would be caught dead driving around in the American-made compact that had just left. Actually, she couldn’t imagine any of her neighbors or their friends owning such a car. Yet this was at least the third day this week it had been in the neighborhood. The same apprehension she’d experienced in the parking garage returned.
“Is something wrong?” Connor’s voice cascaded over her body, and her stomach did a backflip.
With a slight shake of her head, she stepped inside. “Just had an idea for a problem at work.”
She didn’t make a habit of lying, but in this case, it was preferable to admitting that the sight of a vehicle made her uneasy. Especially to a guy like Connor. He’d served in the military and now worked as a personal bodyguard. Someone like that would never let the sight of a car make them uneasy.
After Connor entered, she closed and locked the door. “Make yourself comfortable. If you want a drink, the kitchen is down the hall on the left. I’ll be right back.”
Upstairs, she didn’t even bother to add her skirt to the bag intended for the dry cleaners. Instead, she left both her skirt and blouse on the bed, pulled on some shorts and a T-shirt, then grabbed a pair of sandals from the closet. She paused just long enough to check her reflection in the mirror before leaving the room. If she had more time, she’d touch up her makeup, but with company downstairs she simply moved on.
Connor stood near a window in the living room when she got back downstairs.
“Anything interesting going on out there?” she asked.
He turned toward her, his eyes giving her the once-over. “Quiet as a cemetery. Not even a car has gone by.”
“Trust me, it’s not usually like that, but I never complain when it is. After spending each and every day in D.C., I need some peace and quiet.”
She considered her favorite armchair, the one she usually went for when she wanted to relax with a good book and a cup of tea. If she sat there today, she’d be alone. The chair was certainly wide enough for two, but Connor would never join her there. On the other hand, if she took a seat on the sofa, Connor might sit next to her rather than in one of the other seats. If he were next to her, it’d be easy enough to accidentally brush against him, something she wasn’t above doing if it meant she could touch him.
Yep, the sofa was the place to sit today.
As she’d hoped, he sat next to her. “Do you live here alone?” he asked.
Tucking one leg under her, Becca turned so she faced him. “Until this past spring I did. My stepsister technically lives with me, although she’s away a lot more than she’s here.”
Connor’s gaze searched the room before settling on her again. “Which one?”
Was he asking because he really needed to ask, or to be polite? It didn’t seem like he’d ask to be polite, but how could he not know her stepsister Sylvia had married Benjamin Rowe, the son of media mogul Bruce Rowe. It’d been all over the internet and in every tabloid magazine at the time.
“Kassidy. Sylvia is married and has two little girls,” Becca answered. “What about you? Do you live alone?”
If he was living with a girlfriend, she doubted he would’ve agreed to see her today. Then again, maybe he would’ve. She hadn’t said the word date when she asked to see him today, and even people in relationships could see friends of the opposite sex. How many times had she and Danny gone for a drink after work? And he was married.
“Yeah. A buddy from work stayed with me for a few months while his new place was being built. Spike moved out back in March.”
“I hope Spike is a nickname.”
He gave her smile that had her stomach doing some backflips again. “It is. His real name is Jonathan. I don’t know how he got the name Spike, but it’s what everyone calls him.”
“That’s a relief. People give their children some crazy names.”
“Trust me, I’ve heard worse than Spike.”
Connor’s cell phone ringing stopped her from speaking. She watched the muscles in his arm move as he reached into his shorts pocket. Rock-hard and well-defined described them. He obviously spent a decent amount of time working out. How would it feel to have them around her? How would it feel to have him holding her tightly against his body like he had the night in the pool house? She didn’t need to see him naked to know he’d physically outshine her most recent boyfriend. Even their senior ye
ar of high school, the other guys had looked like preadolescent boys compared to him. So much so, she could still remember the first time she’d seen him without a shirt. It’d actually been the summer before their senior year. He’d showed up at the last-minute pool party her best friend, Leslie, had decided to throw while her parents were away. She’d been sitting outside with her boyfriend, Max, when Connor and a few other football players pulled off their shirts and jumped into the pool. Although Max had been next to her, Becca hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off Connor. And she hadn’t been the only girl present unable to look away. If he pulled off his shirt now, she’d find herself in the same situation.
“Sorry about that. Junk call.”
His voice shook her from her pleasant trip down memory lane. When she was alone later, she’d have to revisit and perhaps imagine how his body had improved since then. “I get them all the time too. It drives me nuts.” She pushed the annoying strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail back behind her ear. “I haven’t eaten all day. Are you hungry?”
“Getting there. I grabbed a protein shake before I left my house.”
“There’s a fabulous sandwich shop a few streets over. We could get something to go and bring it over to the park.”
She loved eating outside regardless of the weather. Even on chilly fall days, she often brought her breakfast or dinner out to the deck on the roof. She’d suggest they make something here and go up there instead of the park, but she had nothing but fruit, a head of lettuce, and some mustard in the fridge. Not even a gourmet chef would be able to make anything tasty out of those ingredients.
“Sounds like a plan. Lead the way.”
***
He’d never been more grateful for sunglasses than he was now. The dark shades let him watch Becca with her none the wiser. At the moment, his eyes feasted on her delectable ass as she bent to spread out the blanket she’d brought along for their picnic. When she finished, she turned, depriving him of the view he’d been enjoying, and took one of the multiple bags he held.
Born To Protect Page 3
