“I think the father killed him, or threatened him, or something. Shortly after, the father snapped. He accused his wife of an affair, which I’m not sure she actually had. He’d been abusing her for years. But the night he snapped, he shot her and Louise, then turned the gun on himself. Louise survived, and continued to live in the house, taking lovers to fill some void inside. When none of the men would marry her, she killed herself.”
He raked his fingers through his hair, again. “At least she said she was going to, and then the diary entries stopped.” He looked at Jessie. “She had a truly tragic life, but I don’t know what to do with her now. I don’t know how to get rid of her.”
Jessie had paled at his telling of Louise’s story. Connor couldn’t help but think of her and Chad, and a surge of protectiveness flowed through him. He pulled her into his lap, wanting to wrap her in an embrace that would bring color back to her cheeks.
“It’s okay. It’s the past.” He murmured into her hair, not sure if he was referring to Louise, or Chad.
“But she’s still here, so it’s not the past.” She turned to him, caressing his face with her calloused fingers. “What if she wants you? What if she thinks of you as her lover?” Her eyes were wide at the possibility. “That would explain why she hates me so much.” She shuddered in his arms.
Connor sighed. He had come up with the possibility himself, especially with the possessive writing on his windows. “Yeah, it would explain it. I don’t want you to come over again.” His voice was pained. He hated telling her she couldn’t come see him. “Not until I figure out how to get rid of her.” His grasp on her strengthened. He felt protective of Jessie, wanting to shield her from the presence in his house.
“I’ll call Summer. Right now, if you want me to. She’ll know what to do. If she doesn’t, her girlfriend will.”
“Okay.”
She released herself from his grip, and went to the phone.
After dialing, she listened for a little while and then said, “Hey Summer. Connor and I have a favor to ask.” A pause. “Um…we were wondering if you and Bo could do something about the ghost in his house?” A longer pause. Connor could hear murmuring from the other end of the phone line. “Yeah.” “Okay.” Jessie glanced at the calendar next to her phone. “Sure.” “Yeah, he has her diary.” The murmuring Connor heard got shrill, excited sounding. “Okay. I’ll let him know. Thanks, so much.” “I love you, too.” Jessie sighed. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning to.” “Okay.” “Bye.” She hung up.
“Bo is on a job in New Orleans, which may take up to two weeks, but Summer said she’ll talk to her about coming down as soon as she’s finished. Summer wants the diary. She said that would make it easier, if she had it to prepare.”
“Sure.” Connor agreed. “I can’t think of any reason why I need to hold onto it. It’s damn disturbing.”
Jessie nodded, before walking back to Connor and sitting on his lap again. She snuggled against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, reveling in the warmth of her against his body. He trailed his fingers lazily up and down her back, inhaling her scent as she rested against him.
Jessie made a contented sound against his chest, that sent a swell of warm satisfaction through his body. “That feels so good…” she said quietly.
He could feel her breathing slow, and deepen.
Connor thought she might have actually fallen asleep, in his lap, here in the kitchen. Deciding she probably slept just as well as he did last night, he picked her up in his arms, and carefully walked through the doorway to the hall off the kitchen. He followed the wide hallway until it opened into a cavernous room, which brought a chuckle to his lips. While the rest of the house was immaculate, dirty clothes covered Jessie’s bedroom. The part of Jessie that she let everyone see was a put-together, hard-working farm girl, but the part of her evidenced by this room showed she had the capability of letting some things slide. Like laundry.
He laid her down in her bed, carefully, and pulled her muck boots off her feet. Looking down at her, he felt a tug at his heart. She looked so peaceful in sleep. He laid a soft kiss on her forehead, pulled the covers up to her chin, and left quietly.
Jessie didn’t even know she had been asleep, until the phone woke her up. She sat up groggily, wondering how she got into her bed, then panicked briefly, wondering if the morning had been a dream. Had she really milked the goats? Or did she just think she did? Then she remembered she had been in Connor’s lap, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his fingers stroking her back. She’d fallen asleep, and he must have put her to bed.
Grabbing the phone on the fifth ring, she mumbled into the receiver.
“’lo?”
“Jessie? Are you asleep? It’s 1:30 in the afternoon!” It was Kathy.
“Um…” She scrubbed her face with her hand, trying to wake herself up enough to have a conversation. “Yeah…just a nap.”
“Okay. I’m sorry to wake you, then.”
“No. ’s alright. I need to wake up. What’s up?”
“Well, I’m not sure if I should tell you this…but you and Connor seem to be serious…and well…I finally decided to just tell you, and let you decide how to handle it.”
“What, Kathy?” She felt like she had been hit by a mack truck, which was why she didn’t like taking naps during the day, and was having a hard time processing whatever it was Kathy was trying to say.
“Have you and Connor talked about his past? Do you know he has a kid?”
“What? Kathy, I’m having a hard time understanding.” She rubbed her face harder, as if that would make sense of what Kathy was saying.
“Look up Connor’s Facebook page.”
Jessie sighed in frustration. “What? Why?”
“Just do it. Please? Then see what he tells you about her.”
Her? “Okay. I’ve got to go, Kathy. I have to get back to work.”
“Jessie? I love you.” Kathy said quietly.
“I love you, too.” Jessie hung up, and swung her legs out of bed. Continuing to rub her face, she let the words Kathy said sink in. Something about Connor’s past, a kid, and Facebook. Jessie had a Facebook page for Stillwell Dairy, but she didn’t do much with it. She’s been so busy actually running the farm, she hadn’t spent much time on the page. The last time she had checked, she had six ‘likes’ and she just didn’t have the social media savvy or the energy to build it up.
Realizing she had been asleep for the better part of three hours, she forced herself out of bed and into the kitchen. Pulling out her little-used laptop, she plugged it in, and booted it up. As always, when she messed with the laptop, she reminded herself of what a colossal waste of money it was. She didn’t have the time to deal with internet stuff. She only used it for spreadsheets on the ranch, and for the money she had spent on the lap top, a ledger book would have been a more affordable investment.
Once she had it booted up, and had pulled up her Facebook page, she ignored the twenty-seven notifications, and did a search for Connor Wright. There were seven of them, and none looked like her Connor. When she had weeded out the ones that obviously weren’t hers, due to age, skin color, or location, one possibility glared at her.
When she pulled up his page, she felt like she had been sucker-punched. The timeline photo, big as day, showed a younger, smiling Connor, holding a baby.
She clicked on the photo tab, and looked at all of them. Pictures of Connor. Her Connor, holding a baby as only a proud papa would. Pictures of him in a hospital room, cradling a newborn infant. Pictures of him sitting in a leather recliner, in an upscale home, cradling a newborn infant. Pictures of Connor, in various places, cradling a newborn infant. In each one of the pictures, Connor had a look in his eyes, which was completely unfamiliar to Jessie. It was the look of adoration, of pride, the teary-eyed glaze of a new father.
Connor was a father.
Just then, her phone rang. A glance at the caller ID told her it was Connor. Her stomach tightened into a harsh kno
t, and she didn’t answer it. What would she say to him? ‘Hi Connor. We’ve been getting serious, here, and when were you going to tell me you had a kid?’ No. She couldn’t talk to him right now. She needed to process this first. Get her thoughts in order. She was too raw right now.
Ignoring the phone, Jessie focused instead on the sense of betrayal she felt. The first man she had opened up to, had shared more than sex with, had neglected to tell her the most important thing about himself. What did that say about them? They had had plenty of question and answer sessions, the whole ‘getting to know you’ stuff Connor had been so adamant about. Why had that never come up? How hard would it have been to say, “I’ve got a child?”
Feeling nauseous at the deception, Jessie turned to her cheese-making, one of the only activities that centered her, and brought her a sense of calm. Only today, as she worked her craft, she wasn’t feeling the harmony. In fact, she had to throw out the first batch, because she let the milk curdle while she was gathering wool.
Cursing Connor, she resolved to firmly put him out of her mind. At least they had never had sex. He didn’t have that part of her, too.
Chapter Thirteen
Connor sensed something was wrong. Not with the house, Louise had been thankfully quiet all day. But Kathy was uncharacteristically quiet, and Jessie hadn’t answered her phone all day. The two might not be related. In fact, Jessie might be more tired than he realized. She had been working hard, lately, he knew. She’d been doubling or even tripling up on her cheese production to get ready for the Open House, and she’d been doing other things too, to get ready. On top of that, his ghost hadn’t been making her life any easier either.
He tried calling her one more time, before he went to bed that night, but there was no answer. Trying to ignore the uneasy feeling he had in his gut, he turned off the light and went to bed.
That night, he dreamed like he had never dreamed before. In his dream, he was in the carriage house, before the renovation, lying in a pile of moldy straw. A woman was straddling him, naked. He looked at himself, and realized he too, was naked. She raked her fingernails down his chest, sending a shudder throughout his body. Snakelike, she writhed on top of him sensuously. The feel of the straw in his backside was a startlingly intense contrast to the cool smoothness of her skin on top of him. There were fleas in the straw, he could feel them crawling on his skin, in his hair. He tried, in vain, to still her movements, to tell her to stop. But he couldn’t move, and his voice didn’t work. He struggled against her manipulations before reluctantly giving in.
When she impaled herself on his stiff member, a tremble of unease coursed through him. Something’s wrong here. He knew this was a dream, as only the knowledge of dreams can allow, but he couldn’t manage to wake himself up. The sensations of pleasure were compelling, but they felt off, somehow. The woman threw him a wicked smile, as she began to ride him, contracting her muscles around him, sending him to bewildering heights of gratification.
As her movements increased, so too did Connor’s. Completely against his will, he thrust into her deeper, holding her hips. She continued to writhe and bounce on him, moaning with satisfaction. As he groaned, unenthusiastically spilling his seed into her, she gave him a satisfied smirk, before rolling off him. Connor watched in disbelief, as she stood and climbed down the ladder to the loft, still naked, disappearing from his line of sight. When she reached the bottom of the carriage house, he could hear her singing softly to herself…
Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble there’s no place like home!
He awoke with a shuddering cry, his sheets a sweaty, jumbled mess, only to discover he had actually had an orgasm in his sleep. Rolling out of bed, he grabbed a tissue from the makeshift nightstand, and lumbered into the bathroom. Feeling nauseated at the memory of the dream, he managed to quell the trembling uneasiness, which threatened to overtake him.
Was that real? Did I just have dream sex with a ghost? Shaking his head, groggily, he tried to figure out what it meant. Was that a re-enactment of Louise’s trysts with her lover in the hayloft? What the fuck just happened?
Realizing it was four-thirty, and he wasn’t likely to be getting any more sleep tonight, Connor walked outside. He didn’t want to wake Luke, who was sleeping on the sofa, and he wasn’t ready to deal with the house during his morning coffee, so he got into his truck and drove around.
He thought a lot about the dream, and of Jessie, although thinking about the two together made him feel guilty. He felt like he had cheated on Jessie, even though the sex in his dream had felt so wrong. It was like he had been in a sort of trance. He had been an unwilling participant, hadn’t he? Hell, it was a dream.
But so was sex with Jessie.
Connor continued to drive around, eventually stopping at a fast food restaurant for some awful coffee. He sipped the harsh brew as he thought some more about Jessie. She hadn’t called him back yesterday, but he was just going to assume she woke up, and got busy. He’d try to catch up with her later today.
Thinking about Jessie made Connor feel better. She took his mind off his own ghost troubles. He realized he hadn’t even obsessed over Brandy, or Madeline in a couple of weeks. A pang of guilt gnawed at his gut at the realization he hadn’t thought of Maddie in that time. Not that thinking about her did anybody any good…
Connor hoped he and Jessie would get a chance to talk about Maddie soon. He really wanted to share her with Jessie. He hadn’t met a woman he’d felt such a connection to. He would say he hadn’t met one since Brandy, but he never really had much of a connection with her at all. Now, he finally had met someone he wanted to have a relationship with, someone he wanted to fight for. Because he knew, as soon as Brandy found out about Jessie, he would have to fight. Connor may not be on Brandy’s radar now, but he knew he would be at some point. And when she found out about Jessie, she would use her infinite resources to turn her against him, or use her against him in court.
Connor realized he needed to let Jessie know what she was getting into. He groaned. He didn’t realize Jessie might not want to get involved with a man who had a psycho ex-wife that might drag their personal life through the mud. He should have thought about that. Looking at the clock on his truck, he realized she might be up milking her goats. He called her. No answer.
“Jessie? This is Connor. Hey. Um…I just realized there is something I need to talk to you about. So, give me a call when you get this, okay? Talk to you later. Bye.”
Feeling a sense of disappointment that he couldn’t talk to Jessie, he continued to drive and think about her. It occurred to Connor his feelings for Jessie ran deeper than he had realized. The fact the dream bothered him so much, and the realization he wanted to tell her about Maddie showed him he cared for her more than he initially thought.
He had lost his heart to Jessie, and the realization made him giddy with anticipation. He couldn’t wait to talk to her.
With each day that passed, Jessie’s feelings of despair from Connor’s duplicity turned to anger. The first time she had tried the whole relationship thing had bit her in the ass. She should have just stuck with her initial feelings about Connor. If she had kept him in her fantasies, as she had planned, none of this would have happened. He could have continued being the perfect lover inside her head. She never would have felt the treachery that finding out about his daughter had bestowed on her. If she hadn’t have gotten to know him, she wouldn’t have become emotionally invested in him.
That’s what bothered her most, Jessie realized. She had feelings for him, and finding out he had kept secrets from her hurt. It hurt her in a way she hadn’t realized was possible. Her heart ached to know he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her about his daughter. And if he’d kept that from her, what other secrets was he hiding?
Preparing for her open house, she carried on with the plans she and Connor had made, hoping like hell she could pull it off without his help. She understood she couldn’t count
on Connor for anything, now. She shouldn’t have ever opened herself up to him in the first place. She had come this far alone, she would continue on. Alone.
Jessie didn’t answer her phone for days after her discovery. She didn’t go into town. She got up, milked her goats, made cheese, and worked in the yard. Luke still came over to work on the roof, the gutters, and replacing rotten wood around the exterior of the house. She didn’t tell him she had discovered Connor’s secret. In fact, she tried her damnedest to avoid Luke at all costs.
On day three of evading Connor’s phone calls, Jessie was in her kitchen working on her third batch of cheese for the day, when a knock at her door interrupted her. She looked through the window next to the door, and her stomach did a summersault when she saw Connor standing on her porch.
She shouldn’t have been surprised, his voice mails had gotten increasingly desperate, and she knew she couldn’t dodge him forever. Steeling herself for a confrontation, and reminding herself Connor was not violent, like Chad, she took a deep breath and opened the door.
Connor looked bad. Her gut clenched as she took in the circles under his eyes, his waxy complexion, and his bed hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in days. He stood, stiffly, watching her warily, with a pained expression in his eyes.
“Why are you avoiding me, Jessie?” The hurt in his voice was evident.
Deciding to treat this like a band-aid, Jessie said bluntly, “I’m not doing this, Connor. I can’t trust you.”
“Why? What happened? Jessie? Talk to me. Tell me what happened.” He took a step toward her, and she backed up against her door, reflexively. She was afraid of what would happen if he touched her.
“You have secrets, Connor. It’s obvious you don’t trust me. I thought that’s what relationships were about. Mutual trust.”
Connor took another step forward, and opened his arms, as if to pull her toward him in an embrace, and Jessie knew if he did, her body would betray her.
What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 9) Page 107
