by Sandra Owens
“We’ll do that,” I promised. We took our leave, and when we walked out of the hospital, it was to a torrential rain.
Connor and I came to an abrupt halt under the overhang. “Stay here. I’ll go get the car,” he said.
“Guess dinner on the sidewalk in Asheville is out.”
He laughed. “You think?” Then his laugh faded as he brushed a thumb over my bottom lip. “I know how much you love doing that. Take a rain check on another night?”
A shiver of pleasure streamed through me at his touch. “You bet. How about we go back to the valley and have dinner at Vincennes?”
“Sounds good.”
When we walked into Vincennes, arguably the best restaurant in the valley, the place was packed. Jenn saw us and came over. She’d started as the bartender, but Angelo, Vincennes’s owner, had recently promoted her to manager. These days he pretty much stayed in the kitchen where he was happiest and let Jenn run the restaurant. Smartest thing he ever did.
“Mary and her new squeeze are leaving. Go grab their seats,” Jenn said.
Connor glanced over at the bar. “Who’s her flavor of the month?”
“Gerald Ferguson from over in Waynesville. Widowed a year ago. Three children, oldest son’s in his fifties.”
I laughed. “Good for her.” Mary referred to herself as a player. According to her, no man could measure up to her dear departed husband, so no more wedding bells for her. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun. Since—again according to her—men couldn’t help falling in love with her, they only got thirty days with her before she moved on to her next flavor of the month.
Connor put his hand on my back as we headed to the bar. Jenn noticed and raised a brow. I’d definitely be getting a phone call from her, but I didn’t know how I was going to explain something I didn’t understand myself.
Tonight Mary’s hair was . . . well, I guess turquoise was the best word for it. Who knew there was even turquoise dye? Her leather pants and knee-high boots matched the color of her hair, and her blouse was shocking pink. As usual she was loaded up with jewelry. I doubt there was another woman in her late sixties who could pull all that off, but somehow Mary did. Either that or our love for Mary blinded our eyes.
The moment Mary saw us, she shrieked. Mr. Ferguson, sitting on one side of her, and Dylan, sitting on the other, jerked their heads around to see the cause of her outburst. Actually, everyone at the bar turned their attention on us. Vincennes’s bar was where the locals preferred to sit, leaving the tables for the tourists. It had become a meeting place of sorts and also where you got to hear the latest valley gossip.
“Our heroes are here,” Mary shouted.
I looked behind me.
“I think she means us,” Connor murmured.
“Oh.”
Mary bounced off her seat and clapped, everyone else at the bar joining in. Okay, this was embarrassing. Even the tourists were craning their necks, trying to see what was going on.
“Where’s Beauregard?” she said when we reached her.
“Um, home.”
“Well, he’s the true hero. He’s the one that went after the bear. I’ve already posted about him on Happenings in the Valley, and you should see all the comments. Someone said Hollywood should make a movie, so I had a contest to name Beauregard’s movie. My favorite so far is Beauregard Saves the Senator’s Sister. Don’t they call that an alliteration, where the letters are all the same? So clever. If you changed Beauregard’s name to Sam, then it would be perfect.”
My head was spinning, but that wasn’t unusual around Mary. And I wasn’t changing Beau’s name. I glanced up at Conner. Amusement glittered in his eyes, and I could tell by his twitching lips that he was doing his best not to laugh.
“Oh, and don’t make plans for Sam on Saturday, sweetie.” Her eyes widened, and then she clapped. “Oh, I did it again. Sam, Saturday, sweetie. Get it?”
“You’re just too clever, Mary. What’s happening on Saturday?” I asked, although I was afraid of the answer.
“We’re having a hero’s parade for Sam.” She tapped her flavor of the month on his shoulder. “Come along, Gerald. I have much to do before Saturday. You can help. Do you by any chance know a movie producer?” she asked him as they walked away.
“His name’s not Sam,” I muttered to her retreating back. Connor and Dylan burst into laughter. “Not funny.” That only made them laugh harder.
“Doesn’t take much to amuse boys,” Jenn said, but I could see that she was having trouble holding it together herself. “Dylan told me what happened out there today. Sam really is a hero.”
“It’s Beau!”
She laughed, then went off to do whatever it was the manager of a restaurant did. I slipped onto the empty bar stool between Conner and Dylan. No sooner was I seated than Gloria Davenport, reporter at large—the only one—for The Valley News popped up at my side.
“Naomi’s going to give the entire front page to Sam on Saturday,” she said breathlessly. “We’ve never had a dog hero before. We need you go bring him in tomorrow so we can take pictures and interview him.”
Had I heard her right? Naomi owned The Valley News—which was mostly gossip she and Gloria imagined in their heads—and sure, Naomi was sometimes batty, but she wanted to interview my dog?
From down the bar, Shelly, the chamber of commerce director, said, “Why don’t we give Sam honorary mayor status on Saturday?”
The whole town had gone crazy.
And his damn name was Beau.
20
~ Connor ~
Swear to God, I tried my best not to laugh. Failed at that and got a narrow-eyed glare from Autumn. Unable to resist, I leaned over and said into her ear, “You’ll want Sam to be all shiny and sweet smelling before his interview. I’ll help you give him a bath.” Wouldn’t mind helping her bathe, either.
She stabbed her elbow into my ribs, getting an “oomph,” from me.
On the other side of her, Dylan laughed. “Daisy’s really proud of her son, Sam.”
Autumn elbowed him, getting an “oomph.”
“Y’all”—she swept her hand around to include the entire bar people—“are all idiots.”
Because she was the cutest thing when she was mad, I couldn’t help it. I leaned over and kissed her before I thought better of it. And that was apparently a big oops, because conversations ceased and it got so quiet that I froze with my lips pressed against Autumn’s.
“They’re looking at us,” Autumn mumbled against my mouth.
And I didn’t care. I kissed her again, giving them something to talk about, because talk they would. She sighed, sounding wonderfully like she didn’t care either. If I didn’t get her to bed, sooner than soon, I would likely combust.
Jenn returned with a platter of Angelo’s chicken scarpariello—chicken pieces, sausages, onions, mushrooms, spicy pepperoncinis, and kalamata olives, and one of my favorite Vincennes meals—putting the plate in front of Dylan.
“Here you go, babe,” she said, giving him a kiss on his cheek.
When Autumn turned on her stool toward me and crossed her legs, my gaze lowered to those sexy boots. The need to be alone with her burned a hot fire through my blood.
“Autumn and I’ll take a large pepperoni and sausage to go,” I said, knowing that was her favorite pizza.
“We will?” Autumn said.
“We will.”
She must have seen right into my male brain and what I was thinking because she smirked, but it was an I’m-on-to-you-and-I’m-good-with-it smirk.
After cocking her brow at me—a what’s-going-on-between-you-and-Autumn brow raise—Jenn stole an olive from Dylan’s plate, then headed for the kitchen. Autumn would definitely be getting a phone call later.
I planned for Autumn to be too busy to be answering any phone calls.
“I guess we outed ourselves with that kiss,” Autumn said after we’d finished off the pizza.
“Sorry about that.” I gave her my
best I-screwed-up smile. “You’re adorable when you’re mad, and I kind of forgot myself.” On the way back to her place I’d cooled down a little, and my brain was able to think again. Before we went any further, I needed to make sure we were on the same page. She’d just given me the opening to talk about what was between us and where we were going with it, but I wasn’t sure how to start the discussion.
She’d changed out of her sexy dress and those hot little boots, and I was sorry about that, too. I’d had plans for her in those shoes. The yoga pants with the frolicking puppies on them and the yellow tank top were sexy in a cute kind of way, though.
“Now everyone’s going to think we’re dating,” she said.
“You have a problem with that?” I didn’t like the shrug she gave me, as if she might want us to stay a secret. Why did that bother me? We weren’t a couple, just two people wanting to enjoy each other for a time or two. Maybe longer. But we were both single and free, so there wasn’t any reason we couldn’t be seen out together.
“Not so much a problem,” she finally said. “But I don’t want everyone thinking there’s something serious going on between us. You know how this town is. After that kiss they’ll start watching the mail for a wedding invitation.”
“That’s not going to happen.” I must have said that too harshly because she jerked a little.
“What, you don’t think I’d make a good wife?” Her laugh was too bitter for my liking. “Don’t answer that. I wouldn’t. Not anymore. You’re a man, and I no longer trust the male species. I’d be suspicious every time you were out of my sight, and I’d hate myself for that.”
“We’re not all Brian or your father, Autumn.” Adam had taught me that being in love wasn’t worth the hurt, but if I did have a wife, I’d never cheat on her. If I ever reached the point where I wanted to, I’d end the marriage first.
Autumn sighed as she rubbed her foot. “I know that. It’s my judgment in men that’s obviously lacking. The only male I’m sure I can trust is Beau, so he’s the only one I’ll let in my life.”
At hearing his name, Beau’s ears perked up, and he tilted his head, his adoring gaze on Autumn. When she didn’t look at him, he pushed up from his doggy bed, made two full turns, then plopped back down, but kept his eyes on his mistress.
“Go to sleep, Sam,” I said to get a rise out of Autumn. This conversation was veering offtrack. She kicked me. Before she could tuck her foot back under her, I wrapped my fingers around her ankle. “Are these red marks from those boots?” I rubbed my fingers over the top of her foot.
“Yeah. They’re killer boots, but man, they cripple me after an hour of wearing them.”
“Then don’t.” They were totally hot, but what was it with women wearing shoes that made their feet red or gave them blisters? I pulled her foot onto my lap and massaged it. She laid her head back on the sofa, letting out a moan that sent desire barreling below my belt.
She opened her eyes and gave me a grin. “That’s another thing about men. They’ll never understand women and their shoes.”
I loved that sparkle in those blue eyes that were starting to haunt my dreams, and I was pretty sure Autumn wearing nothing but those boots would show up soon in my nighttime fantasies.
“Here’s the thing.” It was time to lay my cards on the table. I pressed my thumb into her heel, then moved it up to her toes, and this moan from her was deeper, throatier. Autumn Archer was killing me.
“What’s the thing?” she murmured, sounding half-asleep.
“That I want you. If I’m not mistaken, the feeling is mutual.”
She pulled her foot away and sat up. “I’m listening.”
“Neither one of us is looking for long-term. So you and I”—I waved my hand between us—“can have a little fun without worrying about one of us getting hurt.”
“It doesn’t feel odd to you that we’ve been good friends for, like, forever, and now we’re talking about jumping into bed together?”
“Are you saying you’re not interested?” Because if she was, I was going to be one disappointed man.
“No, I just don’t want to feel all weird about it.”
She hadn’t seemed to mind me kissing her. “Come here.” I patted my leg. “Let’s experiment a little.”
A flirty smile curved her lips as she scooted across the sofa and straddled me. “Now what?”
“I’m going to kiss you.” I started at one corner of her mouth, teased and nibbled a little, then moved to the other side. When her breath hitched, I angled my head and took possession of her mouth. Our tongues tangled, and she really was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted. She squirmed, rubbing against my lap. I put my hands on her hips to still her. Much more of that and the control I was holding on to by a thread would be broken.
After a few minutes I pulled away. “How did that feel?” Her lips were damp, her eyes unfocused, and that look on her was so hot that I could just eat her up.
“Good. Really good. Amazing, actually.”
“But not weird?”
21
~ Autumn ~
I blinked, feeling like I was floating up from a fog. When I could think again, I lowered my gaze to Connor’s mouth. “I’m not sure yet. You need to kiss me some more before I can decide.”
He softly chuckled. “Okay, let’s try this again.”
As our lips met, I braced my hands on the back of the sofa. Connor reached behind his head and moved them to the back of his neck. Once my hands were where he wanted them, he put his back on my hips. There was something sexy about him holding me still, as if my slightest movement tortured him. I liked the thought that I could drive him a little crazy.
When I combed my fingers through his hair, he sighed into my mouth. Connor’s hair was soft and silky and so lovely to play with. He deepened the kiss, his tongue invaded my mouth, and his arousal pressed against the confines of his pants, the feel of him on my sex driving me crazy.
“Please,” I whispered, needing more. So much more.
He pulled away, then leaned his forehead on mine, our harsh breaths mingling between us. “Did that feel weird?” he finally said.
I gave a breathless laugh. “If the throbbing ache going on here”—I took his hand and pressed it against my yoga pants–covered sex, and boy, did I ever want those off—“isn’t weird, then no, so not weird.”
“That’s all I needed to know.” He stood with me wrapped around him, and then he put his hands on my thighs and pushed my legs down until my feet landed on the floor. His eyes snared mine. “I’m going to give you tonight to decide if you and I are a good idea.” He cupped his hand under my chin. “I doubt you have a clue how hard it is for me to walk away from you right now, Autumn, but that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Because I said it felt weird? It doesn’t anymore.” Don’t go was what I really wanted to say. His kisses had wiped any thought of weird from my mind.
“If you still feel that way tomorrow . . .” He brushed his lips over mine. “Then I’m all yours for as long as you want me.”
As soon as he realized Connor was leaving, Beau scrambled up to escort him to the door. Right before he walked out, Connor glanced back at me and winked. What was it about a man winking at you that was just downright sexy?
Beau trotted back, sat in front of me, and looked up as if to say, Now what?
“Never tell a man it feels weird—well, in your case, a girl—to be with him.”
Beau barked in agreement.
While I readied for bed, one thing Connor had said stayed on my mind. “I’m yours for as long as you want me.” What did that mean? Were we dating? Just fooling around? He knew my view on love and marriage, so he wasn’t expecting us to get serious. And he’d even said that like me, he wasn’t looking for long-term. So we understood each other. But I kind of liked that he would be mine as long as I wanted.
I wasn’t one for jumping in and out of men’s beds, no matter the dumb words I’d spouted about playing around. It wo
uld be nice to have someone like Connor to keep company with. But wait, was he going to see other women while we were getting it on? That wasn’t going to work for me.
Yeah, it seemed that I wanted to have my cake and eat it, too, and that was kind of a surprise. Nothing was secret in Blue Ridge Valley, and if Connor was messing around with me and others, everyone would know it. After the mess with Brian I wouldn’t be able to handle being talked about again. I was going to have to address that with Connor. And it wasn’t jealousy I was feeling at the thought of him with another woman. Okay, maybe a little.
My phone buzzed with a text. Connor? I smiled as I picked it up from the nightstand, but it was Jenn wanting to know if I was free for lunch tomorrow. “And the third degree starts,” I muttered as I texted her back, agreeing to meet her.
I gave Beau his nighttime treat and then climbed into bed. By myself. What fun was that? Just as I was dozing off, my phone buzzed again. This time it was Connor texting me.
What time R U giving Sam a bath?
I laughed. Funny man. Sorry. U must have the wrong #. No Sam here.
Bummer. U need help with your bath then?
Now there was an interesting thought. R U sexting me?
Want me to?
Strangely, Brian and I had never sex texted. I wondered why. The thought of sexting with Connor sent a little thrill though me, but I wasn’t ready for that with him yet.
Put that on your wish list
It’s #1 now
Not surprised
Ha ha! See U tomorrow. Sweet dreams
Nite
It was really nice that he’d texted me, but Connor had always been thoughtful like that. I fell asleep thinking of Connor, specifically how good he kissed.
“So what’s going on with you and Connor?”
I peered at Jenn over my menu. “Wondered how long it was going to take you to ask that.” I glanced at my watch. “Exactly forty seconds from the time we sat down.”
