My face hurts when a yawn breaks forth, the dried tears cracking my skin. My uncombed tangle of hair floats around my head in an unkempt halo. And drops of blood stain the front of my once pristine white tank. But none of these details penetrate my skull. I’m lost in an abyss, transported back to those solitary days in my Greenwich Village apartment. The trauma of not knowing Connor’s whereabouts has triggered something inside of me. The uncertainty, the fear, and the helplessness all come flooding back. And I’m powerless to stop it. I succumb, falling to the depths, not caring about what happens to me.
Through the haze, I hear a car door slam. I don’t even bother to turn around. If it’s someone who means to harm me, so be it. I’m alone and defenseless, but most of all, I’m sick of running. Especially when there’s nowhere to run. I’m out of options.
I strain my ears and the whoosh of someone walking through the tall grass behind the cabin becomes audible. I’m caught in a trap with the predator closing in. My pulse rockets in response. It’s too late to flee, and I don’t have it in me to fight.
Then the vibration of heavy footsteps reaches me through the wooden planks of the dock. I hesitate. I can still make a break for it by diving into the water. But how far will I get with two injured knees? Not to mention, the lake is a half-mile wide. Can I even make it across?
Whoever it is halts directly behind me. I dare not turn around. The silence is deafening. The anticipation is agonizing.
I have one play, and I’m going to use it. Stretching back, I reach for the person’s leg. My hands wrap around a man’s calf and I pull with all my might. Not expecting my defensive assault, he loses his balance and tumbles off the dock into the lake. With a terrific splash, he belly flops clumsily into the water.
Rising to my feet, I intend to make a hasty retreat when his voice freezes me in my tracks.
“Michelle, stop! Wait!”
Bending my sore knees, I pivot around to see Connor spluttering, waist deep in the water.
My nerves are so strained that instead of laughing, as I intend, I start balling like a baby. I collapse onto the unforgiving wood, reopening my wounds in the process.
Panic-stricken, Connor sloshes across the murky surface through a patch of reeds at the lake’s edge. Hoisting himself back onto the dock, he drips across the boards before kneeling at my side. He envelopes me in his arms, and his embrace soaks me to the skin. Beads of water fall from his hair and down my face as he presses my body against his. Gently, he rocks back and forth, shushing me while stroking the side of my leg.
It’s almost too much to comprehend. The unexpected nature of his sudden reappearance has thrown me for a loop. I can’t quite fathom it. How in the world did he find me?
But first things first, he deserves a piece of my mind.
Breaking the tenderness of our reunion, I glare up at him. “Why the hell did you sneak up on me like that?”
“I wanted to surprise you.” His expression is petulant.
“By scaring me half to death?” I swat his waterlogged arm.
“You’re not the one who got thrown in a lake,” he reprimands, playfully tugging my earlobe.
“I might as well have. I’m as wet as you are.” I attempt to squeeze the excess water out of my shirt, but his arms refuse to release me from their protective hold.
“I surely hope so.” Sensing me squirm, he lifts me up and proceeds toward the open door of the cabin. “It’s time we got out of these clothes,” he whispers in my ear.
Pausing, he scans the room, turning first to the left then to the right. “Michelle, where’s the bed?”
“It’s in the couch.”
Grunting, I can tell he doesn’t want to take his hands off me. And I don’t want him to either. Twisting my fingers through his dripping hair, I pull his face closer to mine. “We’ll make do on the floor.”
Without further provocation, his lips devour mine. I cling to his biceps as he lowers me beneath him. But the plywood is harder than I expect. Rolling him off me, I tear myself away from him. He moans in frustration, grasping my leg, refusing to let me go. I point to the folded blanket I have stashed on top of the refrigerator, and only then does he release his grip on me. I pull it down before spreading it out before him. I yank the wet shirt outlining the muscles of his chest, and he complies helping me slip it over his head. Brazen, I don’t stop there. Unbuckling his belt, I unfasten the top button and release the zipper on his shorts. Propping his weight on his elbows, he allows me to slide them off, removing his shoes in the process. Now all that stands in my way are his boxer briefs.
But he’s not going to let me get that far. Rising to his knees, he encircles my waist, lifting me off my feet and onto his lap. I can feel his bulge meeting me in just the right place between my legs. The sensation of being so close is driving me wild. But he slows things down as he examines my makeshift bandages. His hazel eyes darken as he runs his fingers across my rudimentary handiwork.
The last thing I want to break the mood is having a wad of duct tape being ripped from my skin. Grasping his stubbled chin with my hand, I tilt up his face. “Leave it,” I implore.
Heeding my command, he slowly positions me so that my legs are wrapped around him. He looks deep into my eyes before raising my arms above my head. His ribcage brushes against my breasts as he removes my tank. Surprised, he asks in a low voice, “Where’s my favorite bra?” as my nipples respond to the pressure exerted by his thumbs.
I’m barely cognizant as I arch my back when his mouth descends upon my right breast. “I didn’t know you were coming,” I manage to respond, panting as his hand fondles me between my thighs.
I’m on the tipping point. “Look at me,” I command. Reluctantly, he pauses in his ministrations and trails his tongue up my neck before nibbling across my jaw line. Desperate for friction, I rub myself against his fingertips. I’m on the verge of losing it. Sinking my nails into his back, I force him to look at me. “I want you. Right here, right now.”
Pushing him to the floor, I stand and kick off my shorts and panties in seconds. I hover over him, and his eyes devour my complete and utter nakedness. Leaning down, I grab the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs. I can’t get them off fast enough. I take him in. His arousal. It’s for me. It’s all for me.
Straddling him, I slowly lower myself onto him. He feels so good. “Fuck,” he cries as his hips start thrusting in and out of me. We establish a rhythm as his hands on my waist guide me where we have to go. He picks up the pace, diving into me faster and harder. I ride him, so close to the precipice. He sits up as we move together. The motion pushes him even deeper inside of me, and I disintegrate into a million pieces. He shouts my name before draping me across his body, falling back to the floor.
With my head on his chest and him still inside me, I know it doesn’t get much better than this.
Chapter Forty-Four
“Well, it was about damn time.”
Connor raises his eyebrows at me. “What?” Laughing, he pulls me closer to his bare chest. I’m sitting on his lap wrapped in nothing but a blanket, and the gliding motion of the rocking chair is lulling me into a state of peaceful contentment. But I can’t resist the impulse to rag on him a little bit.
“I can’t believe we waited so long to do that.” A firework illuminates the darkness as it explodes in the distance. Lacing my fingers through his, I softly kiss each knuckle.
“I promised your parents I wouldn’t touch you while you were staying with me in New York, so technically this place doesn’t count.” A hint of mischief swirls in his eyes. “It was pretty amazing though, wasn’t it? I can’t wait to do it again.”
“I don’t think you’ll have to wait long.” Letting the blanket fall from my shoulders, I press my lips against his.
His phone rings and we both jump. Groaning, I reluctantly disengage myself from his hold. “Who the hell can that be?” Connor shrugs as I hurry into the cabin to retrieve it for him. It takes me a minute to find it under our tra
il of discarded clothing, and it’s already beyond the sixth ring. So I pick it up and answer it.
“Hello?”
“Michelle…is that you? It’s Maria.” Oh no, I couldn’t call her back. She must be a basket case.
“Maria…hey,” I need to make amends. “Connor’s fine, thank goodness.”
A little perturbed, she huffs, “I’m glad he’s okay.”
Looks like it is time for some major damage control. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner. Something came up.”
“Yeah, I bet it did.”
Unsure of how to respond to that remark, I remain silent.
“Just make sure you tell Connor what you told me.” Her request is adamant. I can’t discount it. There’s a shared understanding between us. I opened up to her, and she’s only trying to point me in the right direction. I can’t blame her for that. She has my best interest at heart, as well as Connor’s.
“I will, Maria. I promise.”
“Good. Now go and enjoy the rest of the Fourth with your man.”
“Will do.”
She chuckles. I can picture her shaking her head at the unending drama of our relationship. “You two have a good night.”
“Thanks, Maria.”
Flipping the receiver closed, I give myself a pep talk for what has to be done. I can do this. I have to do this.
Allowing the blanket to fall to the floor, I rummage through one of my bags for my pajamas. It’ll be better to face him fully clothed, without any distractions.
The screen door squeaks on its rusty hinges as I step back onto the porch. Connor glances at me expectantly. “Who was it?”
“Maria.”
He doesn’t seem that surprised.
“What?” But there’s no denying the hint of anger in his voice. Here we go.
“She called me earlier when she saw the signs on the pub. She was worried about you.” I choose my words carefully.
“How does she even have your number?” Pressing his weight onto his heels, he stops the momentum of the rocking chair.
“Because I gave it to her before I left town. I wanted her to check in on you.” I hoist myself onto the porch railing directly in front of him.
“Why couldn’t you check on me yourself?”
“You know why.” I don’t want to play these games. I want him to be direct with me. “Why are you selling the bar?”
He jumps up and strides to the opposite end of the porch. “I wanted to tell you over breakfast last week, but you ran out on me.”
“Well, let’s talk about it now.”
Running his hand across the wooden rail, he stares into the woods with his back to me. I long to see his face. Hours ago, I thought I might never see him again. I believed he did the unthinkable. I take in the sight of him standing before me. No matter what happens, I’m not letting him dodge the subject. It’s time for a reckoning, once and for all.
“I knew I was being a dick forcing you to go back to NYU when obviously you didn’t want to go.” The muscles in his shoulders tense. “But I was determined to get your life back on track, if nothing else.”
“But it’s not up to you. It’s not your responsibility.” A slight breeze ruffles my hair as I cross my arms.
“I realize that now.” Lowering his head, he kicks the railing. “When you left without a trace, it was like a slap in the face. I don’t want you to give up on your dreams, but I don’t think I can handle losing another person I care about, either.” His voice cracks, but he plows ahead. “I know I’m fucked up. I have a lot of shit I need to deal with. And the last thing I want to do is burden you with my problems. But I’m too selfish to let you walk away from me without a fight.”
Finally, he turns around before sinking to his knees. Burying his head in his hands, he lets go, releasing a torrent of heart-rending sobs. Rushing to his side, I cradle him against me.
“It’s okay, Connor. Let it out. Let it all out.” I stroke the back of his hair, kissing the top of his head. “It’s about time. Just let go. I’ve got you.”
His shaking slowly subsides, and he begins to breathe easier. After a while, he lifts his head and wipes away the remaining tears. He’s still hurting. But at least now, he’s releasing it, attempting to work through it. He’s clinging to hope with everything he’s got.
An owl hoots through the trees as a cloud passes over what remains of the waning crescent moon. I softly whisper, “Just so you know, is it okay if I’m fucked up, too.”
His eyes find mine. “No, it’s not.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Yes, it is.” Turning his hands over in mine, I line up our palms, reveling in how his dwarf mine. “If this is going to work, I can’t continue to be your charity project. Whether I succeed or whether I fail, it’s unrelated to anything else.”
“What do you mean?” Great, now I’ve confused him.
“Pressuring me to succeed on your terms isn’t going to justify Danny’s death.” There I finally said it. I wrap my pinkie around his, but he drops his hands to his lap. I’m afraid to look up.
“Is that what you think?” he asks, incredulous.
“Yeah, I do.”
Scratching the side of his neck, he seems flabbergasted. Now I’ve really thrown him. But I won’t apologize for something I truly feel. He needs to face the truth.
“I guess I can see where you’re coming from, but I never thought about it like that.” As the light of the moon resurfaces, the dark circles under his eyes become more pronounced. He looks exhausted. The past year has taken a mighty toll on him. I begin to waver in my resolve, but I have to stand firm, for both of us.
“I can’t go back to the ways things were before. I can’t recreate a moment in time that’s in the past.” Clasping his knee, I give it a squeeze. “Going back to NYU isn’t going to magically cure me or right some terrible wrong. It’s like a festering wound, and ripping it back open isn’t going to allow it to heal.”
“That’s the way I feel about the pub.” He tilts his head while biting his lower lip. “There are too many memories there. Sometimes I can close my eyes and see Danny across the bar or at the dartboard or walking through the door. It gets so bad, I can’t even think straight.”
“Then why stay?”
“I owe it to my dad. He worked his whole life to build his business from the bottom up. He slaved away so I’d have a decent place to make a living. And the stress nearly killed him.” Pausing, he issues a shaky sigh. “I was afraid if I told him I couldn’t do it anymore, he’d be crushed.”
“He only wants what’s best for you.” Cupping the side of his face, I urge him to look at me. “There’s no way he’d want you to keep the pub going if he knew how you really felt about it.”
“I hope that’s true.” With a rueful grimace, he glances up at me. “Because he’s not speaking to me at the moment.”
“What do you mean?” My stomach drops.
“I told him that I’m selling the pub, and he went off on me so bad, I thought he was on the verge of another heart attack.” His forehead creases at the memory. “His face got all red and he started screaming at me. I was supposed to go to Brooklyn and spend the Fourth with them, but he took off with my mom to Atlantic City for a couple of days to cool off.”
“It’s just the initial shock.” I rub his arm consolingly. “He’ll get over it. Deep down, he cares about you.”
Issuing a bitter laugh, he smirks. “If he did, he would’ve let me joined the FDNY with Danny years ago. He’s never going to forgive me for this.”
“Never mind that. How are you going to make a living now? What are you going to do?” My anxiety for him is increasing by the minute.
“Well, that’s what we have to discuss.” His eyes are intense, penetrating into mine.
“We?” I can’t help but ask.
“Yes, we. It’s you and me from here on out.” He says it with so much conviction that I’m slightly taken aback. “Where you go, I go.”
“So are we g
etting married now or something?” I’m teasing him, but he’s dead serious. I can tell.
“If you want.”
“Are you crazy?” He doesn’t see me for a week, and this is how he reacts?
“It doesn’t have to be right away as long as it’s somewhere on the horizon.” He’s acting like I’m the one who lost her mind.
“That is the most fucked up proposal I’ve ever heard.” Fuming, I ease away from him. “If you close the pub, you’re unemployed and so am I. How the hell are we gonna support ourselves?”
“We already have a house.” He playfully tugs on the cuff of my pajama bottoms.
“Where? In Candy Land?” That’s probably too harsh, but I’m too worked up to control my temper.
“No, right here.” He smiles and all I see are his dimples. “Miguel is giving us the cabin. How else would I have found out where you were hiding?”
My mind is spinning. I need some air.
Pushing myself to my feet, I march off the porch. I halt when I feel the wet grass between my toes. Making an about face, I let him have it. “How dare Miguel betray me like that! He probably set me up all along, knowing that he was going to tell you where I was. I trusted him and he sold me out.” A gust of wind kicks up, blowing my hair into my mouth. Yanking it away, I pick up steam. “And you’re gonna live in this ramshackle cabin that’s not even insulated? Are you out of your freaking mind?”
I swear we live to fight and drive each other nuts. But this tops the list. He’s not thinking straight. He’s living in a fantasy world. Well, I’m going to bring him back to earth. He’s actually sitting there smiling at me like I’m the cutest little thing he’s ever seen. That’s the last straw.
“What’s so funny?” I scream at him.
“You.” His ultra composed demeanor is irritating me to no end.
“Me?” I rush back toward the porch determined to slap some sense into him.
Unexpected Page 14
