Plump & Pretty

by Mary E Thompson

  I nodded and followed Connor down the stairs off to the right while the woman padded down the hallway behind her.

  “Who was that?” I asked Connor quietly as we descended the stairs, but the question was soon forgotten.

  Books. Books and more books. More books than I’d ever seen were in the basement. Metal shelves were lined up side by side with books stacked on them almost as high as the ceiling. There were so many books I couldn’t even see them all.

  “Wow,” I whispered as I walked slowly toward the shelf closest to me. Romance novels, 80’s style with Fabio on the covers, crowded the shelf, competing for space. Some were stacked on top of each other, most were piled in like a library or book store, and some were nearly falling off the shelf. I walked down the aisle, my fingers running over the spines of the books, pausing to read titles I wasn’t familiar with.

  My eyes flickered to Connor, following closely behind me. The question in my eyes must have been evident because he said, “You’re welcome to pick up and read any of them.”

  He grinned as my eyes widened, looking back to the shelves. I lifted one of the books I didn’t recognize off the shelf. It sounded like an old school bodice ripper, and I wanted to read it. I started to put it back, knowing I couldn’t take the woman’s book, when Connor said, “She’ll let you borrow any of them you want.”

  “But she doesn’t know me.”

  “No, honey, but she knows me. If you want to read it, hold on to it. And we’ll come back whenever you want.”

  Turning back to the books I smiled at him over my shoulder. “You might regret that when you find out how much I read. I’ll finish this book in a day.”

  Connor shrugged as though it didn’t matter. “Then pick ten and we’ll come back next weekend.”

  The thought of Connor already planning another date excited me more than the prospect of our second date had. Especially if our next date involved me picking out books from an endless supply. My love of books was nothing compared to Pauley’s, whoever she was.

  A few minutes later we heard Pauley’s footsteps on the stairs. Connor excused himself to help her, something I heard her chastising him for, reminding him she was more than capable of taking care of herself. I smiled at the familiarity between them and wondered how Connor knew her.

  Pauley snuck up on me, my own mind lost in the books I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from. “Are you finding anything you like, dear?”

  “Oh, yes. You have quite a collection. I could spend days down here and never realize I was missing the outside world.”

  Pauley smiled. “That’s the beauty of books, isn’t it? Books give us the chance to live a life not our own and enjoy the joys of life, cry through the sorrows, and worry about the dangers without ever leaving the comfort of home. Of course that’s also the downside of books. Sometimes we miss out on what’s in front of us because we’re too busy being someone else for a while.”

  The sadness in her eyes shocked me and I knew she was talking about her own life, not only warning me about mine. The extensive collection of books she had showed me just how much she’d lost herself in being someone else for a while. I didn’t want to end up alone and regret my life, but I’d never deny loving books.

  “Sometimes being someone else is the only way to get through the day without wondering why you’re there. Sometimes it’s the best way to move on from the things that hurt you and believe in yourself again.”

  Pauley nodded thoughtfully and her wrinkled hand cupped my cheek. “I like you, Riley Williams. You’ll do well for my grandson.”

  Sixteen

  “Your grandson? Connor’s your grandson?”

  She grinned and patted my cheek, then walked away, leaving me staring after her. A noise behind me had me spinning to see Connor running a large hand through his dark hair, looking sheepish.

  “She’s your grandma? You brought me to meet your grandma?”

  “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I didn’t mean for you to find out though. She doesn’t usually tell people how we know each other, choosing to let me reveal that.”

  The pain and disappointment that ran through me were harsher than I’d expected. Of course I knew he dated other women, hell I’d witnessed it for years in high school. The utter joy I’d felt when I realized he took me to his grandma’s house was swamped by the blow I felt when he admitted I wasn’t special to him, and I certainly wasn’t the first woman he’d taken to meet her.

  “Oh,” I said, forcing aside my defeat and turning back to the shelves, choosing to lose myself in being someone else for a little while since being me was too painful at the moment.

  Connor stood behind me while I looked, quietly watching me. I could feel his eyes on my back as tears blurred my vision. I bit down hard on my lip to stop the flow of tears, but one slid down my cheek anyway. I brushed it away quickly, but Connor sucked in a breath behind me.

  “What did I say?” he asked softly, his voice barely audible.

  “Nothing,” I answered, a quick shake of my head to affirm my word. I knew he wasn’t going to buy it because he asked to start with. How he realized he said something that upset me, I didn’t know. If he didn’t really care he’d just let it go, but if he wanted to know the truth he’d push. I wasn’t sure which I’d prefer at the moment.

  “Riley,” Connor said quietly. “Please talk to me. Tell me what I said.”

  I shook my head, not willing to let him know how silly my emotions were. I felt foolish standing in his grandmother’s basement, surrounded by books, upset that the guy I’d been on two dates with had a past. That he’d gone out with other women and introduced them to his grandmother.

  It was ridiculous. In the eleven years since I’d seen him he could have gotten married, had kids, or had any number of serious girlfriends. I had no right to him in the last eleven years, or even at that moment. Two dates didn’t constitute a relationship. All it did was remind me that I barely knew Connor.

  “Riley,” he tried again, turning me so he could look at me. He cupped my chin in his firm grip, not rough, just not letting me get away. When he gently forced my eyes up to his I knew he would see the wetness I was trying to hide. “Honey, talk to me. I know I said something. Tell me what it was.”

  “It’s silly,” I admitted.

  “Nothing is silly if it upsets you. Talk to me.”

  “It just bothered me all of a sudden that you’ve done this before. That you’ve brought someone else here. For a few minutes I felt special, like you thought this out and came here because you knew how much I loved books.”

  “Ah, shit, Riley. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how it sounded.” He let go of my chin and ran his hands through his hair, the two meeting at the back of his head and tugging on the strands. He was bothered by what I said, that was obvious, and he wasn’t denying what I’d thought. “I brought you here because I thought you’d love it. But yes, I’ve brought other women here. I dated a girl in college that I was pretty serious with. It ended when she wanted to live in New York City and I wanted to come back here. Since then there’ve been a few women I’ve dated, only one serious enough that I wanted her to meet Pauley.”

  It made sense. I had no reason to be upset. And he was honest with me. I hadn’t shared my history with him, but I’d brought guys home to meet my family too. To get mad because he had a history was insane, and not worth it.

  “Riley, I’m sorry I upset you, but I have a past. We both do. I like you, but I can’t change what happened before we got together.”

  “I know,” I said firmly. “And I don’t want you to. I told you it was stupid. It’s not fair of me to get upset that you brought other women here. Pauley’s great and this place is amazing. It makes sense that you would bring others here.”

  He cupped my cheek and leaned in close, his breath fanning over my face. “I’ve never brought someone here on our second date and Pauley’s never approved of anyone else. You are special to me, even if I screwed up making you feel that
way.”

  He smiled at me, waiting for me to acknowledge his words, then slowly closed the gap between us. His lips were soft on mine, a gentle kiss that only made me want more. Sensing my desire, Connor brushed my lips with his tongue, a silent request that I quickly answered. My tongue sought his as soon as my lips parted. His arms wrapped around my waist fiercely, the need I felt reflected in his embrace.

  Our kiss turned hot and hungry, our hands clawing at each other, both trying to touch the other everywhere all at once. When my fingers hit skin on his lower back he pulled away as though I’d burned him.

  “Fuck,” he whispered. “We can’t do this. Not here. Jesus, I almost pressed you against my grandmother’s bookcase and made you mine. I’m sorry.”

  I scrubbed my hands over my face, knowing he was right and feeling ashamed that I was ready to do the same. “I’m just as much to blame as you are.”

  “You’re perfect, Riley. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve just wanted you for way too long.”

  His words sent a shiver of anticipation up my spine. How he’s wanted me for too long I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going to question it. I wanted him too, and dammit I was ready to jump him. Screw waiting however many dates. If he wanted to come in when we got back to my place, I was going to have my way with the beautiful man.

  “Why don’t we get out of here?” I suggested, trying to play it off as a casual thing. Connor didn’t miss the question I was trying not to ask. His eyes darkened again, navy covering the bright blue. He shifted the impressive erection straining the zipper of his jeans and nodded.

  He took my hand in his and picked up the books I’d set on the shelf in front of us. We wound our way through the shelves back to the seating area near the stairs. Pauley was sipping from an ornate tea cup that would have made Charlie jealous.

  “We’re going to head out, Pauley,” Connor said without preamble.

  “No tea?” she asked innocently, although I could see her trying not to smile.

  “We can have a cup,” I answered before Connor could say anything else. His navy eyes found mine and pleaded with me, but I just smiled back sweetly at him, feeling bad for leaving his grandmother when she’d been so kind to us.

  “One cup,” Connor growled, dropping heavily into a chair and making sure we knew his dislike of the change of plans.

  Pauley stood and poured us each a cup of tea, grinning like a fool when she handed Connor his. I sipped the warm black tea and wondered why Connor would bring someone to meet his grandmother instead of his parents.

  “What keeps you busy Pauley?”

  She smiled at me, clearly pleased that I was taking the chance to get to know her. “Oh, obviously I love to read. In the winter I spend most of my time down here. Summertime I garden, growing everything I can out back.”

  “What’s your favorite thing to grow?” I asked knowing people who loved to garden usually loved one thing in particular and grew the rest for aesthetics.

  “My strawberries are wonderful, so are my tomatoes. I’m a big fan of vegetables though. My cucumbers, peppers, and green peas kept this boy growing all his life.”

  Connor’s cheeks pinked at the mention of himself and it endeared me more to him, and Pauley. It was clear they were close, a closeness like I shared with my family. Spending time with Pauley made me think about introducing Connor to my parents. I wasn’t quite there yet, but it was inevitable. I just hoped my family didn’t embarrass me and tell Connor how much I talked about him in high school.

  We talked with Pauley a few more minutes as we finished our tea. When we all went upstairs Connor insisted on carrying the tray even though Pauley argued that she could handle it. I washed the tea cups while the two of them talked, a conversation I thought was about his parents, but wasn’t sure. They were less than complimentary.

  Pauley hugged me and whispered, “Take care of him,” as we left. I agreed, although I wasn’t entirely sure what I was agreeing to. Connor was more than capable of taking care of himself and didn’t need me to do it for him, but Pauley must have been worried about him for some reason.

  “She really liked you,” Connor said as he pulled away from Pauley’s house. “Told me over and over again not to screw it up.”

  I laughed, wondering how in the world Connor would screw things up. He was sweet and charming and gorgeous and kind and there was no way in the world I would let him go if I had a choice.

  “She’s wonderful. And her collection… Just amazing. I thought I had a lot of books.”

  “She’s been collecting since before I was born. She’s got some books in there that you can’t find anywhere else. First editions, out of print, all kinds of books. It’s amazing. I used to go down there when I was a kid and spend hours reading different stories.”

  “Do you still like to read?”

  Connor shrugged. “When I have time, which isn’t as much lately. These days I tend to be reading stats or interviews or something for work instead of fun stuff.”

  “I’m having a hard time imagining you as a reader. It doesn’t fit the athlete image.”

  Connor laughed, thankfully not insulted by my honesty. “Pauley always said the same thing, but that was why she encouraged me to read. I think she knew I wouldn’t play sports the rest of my life. My father was always telling me the same thing.”

  “I guess you’re sort of doing both. You’re not playing sports, but you’re talking about them so being an athlete certainly helped get you where you are, but you also have to be smart and know more than just how to play the game. I’m sure they’re both proud of you.”

  Connor snorted in a way that told me he didn’t agree.

  “I take it you’re not close to your dad?”

  Connor was silent for a long moment, a thickness filling the space between us as he worked up a response to my question. “My dad and I were never close. I haven’t spoken to him in almost a year.”

  “Wow, I can’t imagine that. I talk to my parents almost every day. Are you close to your mom?”

  Connor snorted again, giving me an answer without responding. “Listen, I don’t want to be an ass, but my parents are the last people I want to talk about right now. One day I’ll tell you about them, but not now. Okay?”

  I mumbled my agreement, wondering even more if Brady’s assessment of Connor had been right all along.

  Seventeen

  The rest of the ride to my house was fairly quiet. I was afraid to ask more questions and have Connor shut down on me, and I was pretty certain he was mulling over whatever he’d been talking to Pauley about. When he pulled into my driveway he turned off the car but didn’t get out right away.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he said finally, his eyes focused straight ahead. “My parents weren’t ever really there for me and I don’t like talking about it, or them. Pauley is the only family I really consider myself to have anymore.”

  “I shouldn’t have asked,” I told him, feeling more guilty for prying and for telling him how close I was to my family. “It’s not my place.”

  “I want to tell you everything about me, Riley. I want you to know all of me, but I’m afraid you’ll run for the hills if I do.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “It has before. My life isn’t perfect, it never has been, and once people find out just how imperfect I am, they’re not interested.”

  “Is that why you’re not married?” I asked, taking advantage of his honesty.

  “No,” he smiled, “it’s not. I’m not married because I haven’t met the right person yet. Or maybe I have and I still have some convincing to do.”

  The note of teasing in his voice made my heart stutter. Was he talking about me? He had to be, but no. Marriage? I wasn’t going to end up with Connor Lee.

  “Do you want to come in for a drink?” I asked, not wanting our night to end.

  Connor looked at me for a long moment before he nodded, a single nod that held more meaning than any words could hav
e said. A nod that told me he knew I’d asked him in for something other than a drink, and he was just as willing as I was. And just as excited.

  Inside I flipped on lights, overly conscious of Connor looking around my place as I led him through the house. In the kitchen I pulled out a bottle of wine. Connor took it from my hand and reached for the corkscrew in my other hand. While he opened the wine I got out glasses then we sat on the couch.

  Anticipation turned to anxiety as we sat on opposite ends of the couch watching whatever movie was on. I sipped my wine and tried to be casual, but my entire body was on high alert, waiting for Connor to make a move, either to go upstairs or to just go.

  He shifted in his seat and reached for me. I went to him, still not saying anything, and let him lay me down on the couch, him behind me, his big, warm hand wrapped around my waist.

  Damn, that was worse.

  His fingers brushed over me, rubbing up and down until my shirt lifted and he brushed bare skin. His hand paused briefly before he continued his assault on my senses.

  Acutely aware of how flabby the skin he was touching was, and of how good he felt behind me, my breathing grew to pants, barely getting enough oxygen to keep me conscious. My eyes fluttered closed and my body enjoyed the innocent torture. I wanted his hand to move, up, down, everywhere over me. And I wanted the chance to explore him. To feel his body under my fingertips and have him come apart in my hands.

  Connor’s other hand brushed the edge of my ear and startled me. He moved my hair to the side and ran his fingertip over my ear, catching my earlobe between his fingers then moving back up to the top, over my piercings, and down again. The gentle touch, the sensual nature of his caresses, made me wet, my body humming with need.

  When Connor’s wet tongue replaced his finger on my ear I moaned in appreciation. Damn, he was turning me on and he’d barely touched me. His hand on my waist stilled and held me tight against him, the thick ridge of him hard against my ass. I moved to face him, but he held me still. “Stay right here,” he whispered, his breath hot in my ear.