Crap. Apparently, he’d been listening almost the entire time. He heard me say I thought he was hot.
Kill me now.
He knew exactly what I thought of him. And I still knew nothing about what he thought of me.
21
Connor
The Truth
Isabelle didn’t speak to me again until Luc and Jimmy arrived. They brought the snow machine to find us and then they went back for the Snowcat, which was basically a tractor built for snow. It would be about an hour before they returned with it, as it was incredibly slow and only worked about half the time. They must have gotten it running again, and I was grateful because the snow machine would have been a lot less comfortable for Isabelle. But she looked uncomfortable now.
She was pissed off that I’d eavesdropped on her. I hadn’t meant to, initially. I came out to give her a hat. I’d found a couple in the cabin and knew she needed one. But then I heard her talking to Slick and just froze.
“I talk to Slick all the time,” I told Isabelle as we waited for Jimmy and Luc to come back with the Snowcat.
She stared at me furiously.
“He’s a good listener,” I said. “But you could have talked to me.”
More furious glares. “No thanks,” she hissed.
“I guess I shouldn’t have eavesdropped,” I admitted. “But I owe you an explanation. About me.” I sighed. “I was going to tell you last night, but now I need you to know the truth. So that you know the baby will be safe with me. So that you know that you’ll be safe with me.”
Her furious look became a questioning look. I took that as an invitation to continue.
“You read about me online, right?” I asked. Apparently, this was going to be as one-sided as Isabelle’s chat with Slick, because Isabelle didn’t even nod. “Of course, you did,” I answered for her. “You aren’t an idiot. So, you saw that I’d been dishonorably discharged. You probably saw all about how I barely avoided jail time and a court martial after I beat the ever-living crap out of my superior officer. I got a dishonorable discharge after I crushed his nose, broke several of his ribs, dislocated his shoulder, snapped a few of his finger bones, and left him with a permanent limp. All of that is one hundred percent true.”
“Why’d you do it?” Isabelle asked. “The stories said you were drug trafficking?”
I frowned at her and she winced. “The stories are wrong.” Even now, I was still defensive about it. “They’re all wrong.”
“You admitted to everything,” she told me, gently. Like she was afraid to upset me. But she was right. I sure did. I admitted to everything, multiple times, on film and under oath.
“I settled to avoid jail time. In a military prison. I had enough money to get out of the noose. But not to avoid the longer lasting consequences.”
“Okay. Then what really happened?” Isabelle’s voice was soft. She was staring at me wide-eyed.
I swallowed against the knot in my throat. Very few other people knew the truth. Well, almost. My family knew. Jimmy and Luc knew. I knew.
“My lawyer at the time, and it wasn’t Luc if you’re wondering, he told me it was better to admit guilt and just settle with a dishonorable discharge.” It felt weird to be telling Isabelle any of this. But it also felt good. I didn’t want her to be afraid of me. This would help.
“But what really happened?” Isabelle asked. She was interested now, sitting forward and staring at me curiously. Her soft, big brown eyes seemed to compel me. I wasn’t sure I could stop telling the story now if I wanted to.
“I walked in on him one night. I came to ask him about the guard rotation, and he was in the office, shirtless and with his pants unbuckled, next to a crying civilian woman. It didn’t take a genius to piece together what he was about to do to her. I took one look at her face and I suddenly couldn’t stop hitting him. It wasn’t until three people managed to peel me off his bloody body that I even realized what I’d done.”
“Oh, my God,” Isabelle said, covering her mouth with her little, pale hand. She looked horrified.
“If I could do it again, I would. But I didn’t realize that he was in cahoots with his superior officer, and the one above him. They had some kind of opium diversion thing going. I don’t exactly know the details, even now. But they were all in on it. The raping civilians part was just a bonus for the scumbag I reported to. But when the shit hit the fan and the whole thing was about to come out, they pinned it all on me.”
“Why didn’t you fight it?” Isabelle asked. “Why didn’t you try to get the truth out?”
“I did at first. But no one wanted to believe me. They laughed at the concept of some kind of military conspiracy. My lawyer said it would be better to settle than to try to fight and probably lose and end up in prison. I knew I wouldn’t survive a prison sentence. I can’t stand being locked up. I’m extremely claustrophobic. So, when the possibility of a settlement came up, I figured it was better than the alternative. I figured I would come back to Hollywood and pick up my acting career and everything would be great. Unfortunately, it turns out that nobody wants to cast a war criminal.”
“You gave up.”
“I gave up.” I agreed. “I was tired of fighting. My belief that the world was a basically good place was thoroughly shattered.”
“Then what?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Then nothing. I gave up the day-to-day running of my production company to Luc, who I hired not long after the settlement was final. I still do stunts in movies. But only under heavy makeup, and I’m credited under my legal name and not Connor Prince. I don’t go out. I keep a low profile. And now, I want to have a baby.” I sighed. “I think one of the reasons I want the baby so badly is so that someone can see me for who I actually am. Not a criminal. Not an actor. Just me.” I shrugged my shoulder. “Okay, now you know everything. I guess you can choose whether or not to believe me, but I wanted you to know that I’m not a monster. I didn’t want you to be afraid of me anymore.”
Isabelle nodded her head. Her hair was partially obscuring her face and I wanted to push it back, but I knew it would be crossing a boundary I shouldn’t even approach. The fact that she’d admitted to Slick that she was attracted to me had been a shock. I wasn’t sure what to do with that information. I wasn’t sure I should do anything with it.
“I’m glad you told me,” she said eventually. “I appreciate it. And yes, it does make me feel less afraid of you. But I don’t see why you wouldn’t fight it now. You can still tell people the truth. You don’t have to let the bad guys win.”
I sighed. “This isn’t the movies, Isabelle. Sometimes the bad guys do win. It sucks, and I don’t like it, and I wish it were different, but that’s the truth. This time the bad guys won, and I probably became one of them along the way.”
“Don’t say that,” Isabelle said. She rose to her feet and drifted closer to me. I froze. “You aren’t bad. You just got screwed over. You’re going to be a dad soon,” she reminded me. “Maybe recovering just a little bit of optimism would do you good, if not for you, then for the baby. You told me earlier that the world was dangerous. It is. But there’s more than just danger out in the world.”
“I get that. I’m not going to keep my daughter or son locked up here in the castle,” I promised Isabelle. “And I’m not going to keep you locked up here either.”
Isabelle nodded. “Okay. Then we give it another try.”
My spirits lifted a bit. “Really?”
“Really,” she said. “I’ll even tell you when I go out, and let you know exactly where I’m going and when I’m going to be back. I don’t want you to worry. But from now on, I’m off house arrest.”
“Okay.” I could barely believe this was happening. I’d been so sure I was going to lose her. “Do you really think it’s a girl?” I asked.
Isabelle shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel like it is, but what do I know?” She laughed a little bit. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Join the club.
I’m going to be a dad, and I have no idea what I’m doing, either.”
Isabelle smiled. A real smile. Maybe the first real smile she’d ever smiled at me. My heart twisted.
“Do you believe me?” I asked her. For some reason, it was important to me that I knew if she did. “Do you believe what I told you?”
Isabelle nodded. “I do believe you. I don’t know why you’d lie to me. So yeah, I believe you.”
I grinned, more relieved than I expected to be. I cared about that. Far more than I ever thought I would. “Good,” I told her. “I hope you will think better of me now.”
Isabelle didn’t say anything to that, and I wondered if she was still angry at me or wasn’t being entirely honest. Then again, she’d admitted to being attracted to me. If she had any idea how attracted to her I was… well, maybe true honesty between us was not a great idea. “What will you name her if she’s a girl?” Isabelle asked. “What will you name him if he’s a boy?”
I shook my head. “I have no idea. I’m not—” I paused. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
Names. Christ. I hadn’t even thought about names. I was going to need to think about that soon. How had I forgotten to think about names? What else had I forgotten to consider?
“That’s okay. You’ve got time. Eight months,” she reminded me. “You’ve got plenty of time.”
Eight months. Plenty of time. In eight months, I’d have my perfect baby. But after the baby came, Isabelle would leave. She’d disappear from the baby’s life like I’d made her promise to do. She’d never see me or the baby again. It should have made me happy knowing my plan was coming true. But it didn’t.
Eight months wasn’t plenty of time. Not at all. Eight months would fly by like absolutely nothing. Then, Isabelle would be gone.
22
Isabelle
The Redo
We got rescued by Luc and Jimmy. Rescued. Ha. I wasn’t sure if that was the right verb. I wasn’t even sure if I was making a mistake or the smartest decision I’d made in a while. But I had made the choice, and I wasn’t going back from it now. We returned to the castle.
They showed up in a giant snow tractor thing and brought us back, attaching Slick’s bridle to the machine and moving very slowly so he could walk alongside. Luc and Jimmy avoided asking any questions, but I could feel their questions tingling on the surface of my skin.
They wanted to know what had happened. Why did Connor and I end up crashing a Jeep and then sleeping together in a tiny cabin. They probably thought we had slept together for real. I went upstairs as soon as we got back to the castle, not wanting to hear them grilling Connor. Not wanting to hear what he might say to them.
Connor wasn’t the man that the internet told me he would be. I had no idea who he was. Although I was very relieved that Connor was not an attempted murderer, at least when I’d thought he was a monster, I’d known to fear him. Now I wasn’t sure what I felt about him.
I was, however, still irritated that he had eavesdropped on me. He heard me say I thought he was hot. He knew.
Curiosity about whether he thought I was attractive filled my brain. His body had responded to mine in bed. All night. But that was just biology. It was hardly an indication of anything. He might have been lying next to anyone last night and had the same reaction. I should try and control my own reactions in the future. I shouldn’t get my hopes up.
When Connor knocked on my door that evening, I felt a much different anticipation than I had before. Especially when I swung the door open to a totally different man.
I gaped.
“You shaved,” I finally managed to stutter.
Be still my pregnant, horny heart.
Connor looked at least ten years younger. I’d thought he looked like he was in his mid-to-late forties before, but now I revised that assessment. He was maybe in his late thirties. And God, he was perfect.
Tall, built, and with eyes like sapphires, he was always attractive. But under all that fur was a man so freakin’ symmetrical and proportional that the golden ratio I’d learned about in art school would fit his face perfectly. He’d been attractive at the height of his film career in his early twenties, but like a fine wine, he’d aged to perfection.
The beard wasn’t entirely gone. It had just, as I’d suggested to Slick, been trimmed. Now he looked distinguished and polished instead of frightening and overgrown. He had left the hair long. It suited him. I wasn’t ever the type that would go for the longhaired man-bun-wearing hippie vibe, but this wasn’t that. It was more of a devil-may-care, sexy tousled look. I could dig it. A lot.
He’d also decided to wear real clothes. For the first time in my experience, he was wearing jeans instead of sweatpants that looked like they should have been retired to the gym pile five years ago. And the hobo hoodie was gone. In its place, Connor was wearing a starched white dress shirt. No jacket. No tie. But he looked put together and cared for. It made all the difference.
Connor shrugged his shoulders at my shocked reaction. “How does it look?” If I had to guess, he looked almost embarrassed by my stare.
“Better,” I stuttered, because ‘freaking hot’ would be probably the wrong thing to say. But I was thinking freaking hot. He was so freaking hot. “Why’d you do it?”
He smiled. Free now of a giant beard, his perfect, even teeth were visible again. He had a great smile. And he looked a lot younger when he smiled, and a lot more like Agent Steve Ranger than he had yesterday. “Someone whose opinion I respect recommended that I take another look at my personal grooming practices.”
I cleared my throat uncomfortably. Was I blushing? “I’m glad Luc finally got through to you.”
He smirked. “Sure. Right. It was Luc.”
We stood awkwardly for a moment, just staring at one another. It was in disbelief on my side. I didn’t know what was going through his mind at all. Just when things were starting to get weird, Connor spoke.
“I was wondering if you would like to go to dinner with me,” he said. “You can say no. It’s fine. But I’m asking. Politely this time. And in person. We can go wherever you want to go. No lobster whatsoever. I think we should start over.”
I looked up at him in disbelief. “Okay. That sounds nice.”
He flashed the dazzling movie star smile at me again. “Really?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Sure.” Starting over was probably the best thing we could possibly do. Then he could forget the part where I’d admitted I wanted to climb him like a tree. He was looking particularly climbable now…
“Where do you want to go?” he asked me politely.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. Surprise me? As long as there’s no shellfish or kale I’ll be fine.”
“Oh, now you like surprises?” he teased. His blue eyes threatened to pull me into their shiny depths, and I looked down at my feet instead.
“I actually do like surprises,” I told him, still staring at my shoes. “As long as your surprises are always nice from here on out, I can promise I’ll never tell you to shove any crustaceans up your butt ever again.”
“Look at us, making progress,” he said, sounding happier than I was used to. “I’m not yelling at you. You aren’t suggesting lobster rape for me. Progress. See you at eight?”
I nodded and finally looked up. “What should I wear?”
His lips parted. He looked me up and down. I was wearing overalls again. They were comfortable and practical, but not very fashionable. I’d expected him to steer clear of me for a while, so I hadn’t put any thought into my attire. Now I felt dumpy.
“Do you have a dress?” He asked hopefully.
I nodded again, this time more hesitantly. “Yes.” I had a dress. One dress. Hopefully it would work for tonight.
“Wear a dress.” He turned and took off then, looking like he suddenly had somewhere very important to be.
Connor and I took a goddamn helicopter to a Chinese restaurant in a nearby mountain town.
“Fun, huh
?” he said when we got off the helicopter. I was panting from the roller coaster descent and grinning from ear to ear.
“My little Hyundai accent is never going to have the same thrill.”
Connor laughed. A real laugh. That laugh of his seemed to wrap around my heart and squeeze it. Not painfully. Pleasantly. But then I remembered who he was, and who he was to me, and it almost hurt instead.
He’s only being nice to you because he wants your cooperation, a tiny, insecure voice whispered between my ears. He’s realized that he can get more out of you with honey than with vinegar.
Even if that was true, I preferred honey, I thought to myself as we ate our way through China. Connor suddenly seemed like a totally different person now.
“You really shouldn’t eat the fried rice,” he said about halfway through the meal. “It’s got a lot of sodium and MSG in it.”
Well, almost a totally different person.
I glared at him.
“Sorry. Never mind,” he said sheepishly.
“How many books about prenatal nutrition have you read?” I asked, wondering if his obsession with my nutritional intake was from that. “Or do you just think I’m fat?” He could just buckle up if that was the case though. ‘Cause I was about to blow up like a damn balloon.
Connor blanched. “I don’t think you’re fat, Isabelle. Not at all.” Perhaps some of his books had warned that telling a pregnant woman she looked fat was inadvisable. “I’ve just read a few books,” he admitted. “Enough to probably sound like a lecturing jerk. It’s the salt and not the calorie content in the fried rice…” he trailed off at my expression.
I smirked at him. “So, a lot of books, huh?”
He nodded. “A lot of books.”
“How long have you wanted to have a baby?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine it was something that just came to him overnight. Connor seemed like a planner. It was evident in a lot of his mannerisms, in his house, even in his career. I mean, the man alphabetized his movie collection and drafted out my exercise routines. He was a planner.
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