by Maisey Yates
“I’m not going to forget. I won’t forget. But I still think we need to draw a line under it and call it done,” he said, his tone firm, authoritative.
She wasn’t used to him being like this. Decisive, commanding. It was hot. Which was completely inconvenient, since he was currently telling her that they were not going to do the sex thing anymore. Which meant his being more of a turn-on was not okay.
“I...” And she realized she was standing in the man’s kitchen, barefoot and wearing pj’s, about to beg him for more sex. She had never felt sorrier for herself. And that included when she had returned her prom dress. And also the moment she had found out that the man she had lived with, supported, made lackluster love to for years, had stolen her identity then gotten the hell out of Dodge.
Yes, realizing that you were on the cusp of begging your best friend for more sex while wearing sheep-festooned flannel pants was a new low.
“What, Liss?”
“I think you’re right.” Even though she didn’t.
“About?”
“If this is the end result of what happened last night, we’re not doing it again. Whatever has been happening the past couple of days...I just think it accomplished what we needed it to. I was...well, not back in the game after Marshall. And obviously you weren’t. And now we kind of broke the wall down, like you said, before I got all gross.” She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice from shaking, trying to keep from crying. Weird that she felt like crying. Weird that this felt like the end of something. But it wasn’t really anything. Their friendship, all eighteen years of it, that was something to protect. One night of sex should hardly show up on the radar.
They were getting back on track. They were putting things back the way they should be.
It wasn’t really a change. And it shouldn’t be sad.
“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” He looked slightly shocked, as though he had not expected her to agree quite so quickly.
“The same side of the bed, so to speak.” She didn’t know why she was trying to make the conversation more awkward. Apparently, it was her natural instinct. No wonder she’d been single for two years.
“Or in agreement, in different bedrooms. Since that is what we are agreeing on.”
She took a deep breath. “Connor, I’m sorry if I added confusion to what I know has been a seriously effed up few months.”
“Months? Try years.”
“Sure. But I want to help you. And you can’t keep going the way you have been.”
“I know. And now I’ve changed some things. Had sex. Started building a barn.”
“Nice to know I’m on par with barn building.” She winced. “Sorry, I should probably stop mentioning the thing that we did that we aren’t going to do again.”
“Like I said, I’m not going to forget that it happened. I don’t think there’s any point in pretending it didn’t happen. Unless we’re in front of the others.”
A shiver of horror wound through her. “They must never know.”
“Never.”
That, she could agree to with no reservation at all.
“I had better go get to work.”
“Yeah, probably. I imagine Kate is out there ordering Eli and Jack around like she’s the foreman.”
Connor rolled his eyes. “Likely.”
She waved a hand. “Intervene.”
He looked at her hard, too hard for her liking, because she had a feeling he was seeing a layer or two deeper than skin. Down to all of her vulnerabilities and bare, fragile emotions. “Are you going to be okay?”
She forced a smile, fully aware that it stopped well short of her eyes. “I’ll be fine. I need to reorient is all.”
“Yeah, well...last night was...intense.”
“And we don’t usually do intense,” Liss said, rocking back on her heels.
“No. And I haven’t done intense at all in a while. I think I maxed myself out and...shut down. Kind of...hibernation or something. But yeah, less of that now.” He offered her a smile in exchange for hers. Just as manufactured and superficial as the one she’d given him.
She tried to feel happy for him. That last night had been some sort of transcendent experience as far as he was concerned. Therapy by orgasm. But it was hard when she was feeling so damn sad for herself.
Last night was less transcendent for her and more a weird, very final confirmation of the fact that she was destined to forever feel more and different for Connor than he did for her.
She wasn’t sure what she felt for him, but it was somewhere past simple friendship. Not like either of the romantic relationships she’d had in the past, either, but then, that wasn’t too surprising.
Over the past three years she’d been helping him glue his life back together, making sure he was functional, getting his groceries, that she’d stepped into a different role in his life than the one she’d grown up in.
She’d become more like a wife without the benefits.
And without the love.
That thought had a sharp point on it, and it stabbed straight through her skull and down into her chest, hitting her heart.
She did her best to ignore it. To make eye contact with Connor and to try not to look as though she was having some sort of emotional meltdown.
“Great,” she said. She could feel the inadequacy of the word as it hit the air and went flat. But she couldn’t find it in her to add to it. To try to dig deeper and say something encouraging when she frankly felt like shit and wanted to crawl beneath a fuzzy blanket for the rest of the day and hide.
As it was her day off, she could if she wanted to. And she just might. She needed to watch Sense and Sensibility. And maybe find out if Alan Rickman wanted to come and marry her to rescue her from her wayward feelings.
“All right, then. I’ll catch you later.”
He turned and walked out of the kitchen, and Liss sagged against the wall, unable to prevent an epic whining sound from escaping her lips.
She’d been so caught up in what it would be like to make love with Connor that she hadn’t spent nearly enough time imagining what it would be like after she made love with Connor.
Though, even if she had spent time thinking about it, she doubted she could have possibly guessed how horrifying it would really be.
But she was living it now. So she would just have to deal.
But for a while she would be dealing with it from beneath a fuzzy blanket. So for a few hours at least, it might not seem so bad.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CONNOR FELT...RESOLUTE, if not better.
He had made his decision, and he stood by it. By it, behind it, in front of it. Basically, he had a whole fence around the decision so that it couldn’t escape and flee off into the wilderness, leaving him with no decisiveness and a hard-on that wouldn’t quit.
Because, even though he knew it was the right decision, it wasn’t the one he’d wanted to make.
No, the one his body wanted to make was the one that would see him back in bed with Liss, her legs wrapped around his hips as he sank deep inside her.
But that was the wrong choice. So his body didn’t get a vote.
He straightened, pushing his hat back and looking around. Eli was leaning against a post, drinking a cup of coffee. Kate was down the fence line with Jack, holding a wire straight while he worked something with a pair of pliers.
It was an overcast day, gray clouds rolling over the caps of the mountains, lowering the sky so that everything felt a little bit more closed in. This kind of weather suited Connor just fine when he was doing heavy labor. The cool, damp air refreshing rather than freezing, since they were out there working their asses off.
Normally, a project like this helped him exhaust his body until it was numb. Which he usually only
needed to help with the loneliness, the sadness and the general soberness he went about his day in until he was able to reach for a little alcohol at the end of the day to help him out.
But he was trying not to drink. And really, sadness and loneliness weren’t his issues right now.
It was the fact that his libido was suddenly wide-awake. And hungry.
There was a whole hibernating-bear analogy in there, he was sure of it.
Actually, that applied across the board. Something about dealing with the barn, breaking through the barrier of lust and sex, putting down the bottle and just dealing with things was making him feel a lot more awake in general.
Too bad doing things had consequences. That was one point in favor for lying around being a drunk. The only consequence you had to deal with was the hangover. And what he was dealing with now was a lot more complex. Complex, emotion-type things. And he didn’t like that.
But the alternative was essentially sinking into the same kind of pattern his dad had been in. Hell, he’d pretty much been there. And now, with the benefit of it being in hindsight, he could see that. He had been excusing it, since he had been getting the ranch work done. But he hadn’t gotten anything else done, and he imagined a sad drunk was a sad drunk as far as family and friends were concerned, whether he did his ranch work or not.
“Everything going okay down there?” Eli asked.
“Fine,” Connor said, realizing his answer had come out somewhere between a grunt and a growl. He was going to have to work on that, too. Since he was working on things. Making decisions, and having normal human interaction and shit. “Almost done.” There, the last part of that sounded a little bit friendlier.
“What’s on the schedule for the rest of the day?” Eli asked.
“I’ll probably see what’s going down with the barn. The crew should be by later today. A lot of it is finish work that I can’t contribute much to. But I should at least go check it out.”
“Do you think it will be done by election night?”
Connor laughed. “Just asking out of idle interest?”
“No, I’m asking out of selfish interest,” Eli said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“At least you’re honest.”
“Hey, it feels like a lot is riding on the election. I mean, if I don’t win I still have a job I love, and I still have a position in the community. But I would never have started running if it didn’t mean something to me. If I didn’t feel like I was the best man for the job.”
“You are the best man for the job,” Connor said. He had always thought that, but he had never said it. Because sincerity was hard for him; because tapping into any kind of real emotion was hard for him. But Eli deserved to hear it.
Eli offered him a half smile. “Thanks.”
“And my offer to paint your face on my chest and direct voters to check the appropriate box stands.”
“One too far.”
Connor grinned, actually feeling it a little bit. “I have limited skills. But I could do that.”
“If we were going to strip anyone down and use sex to sell my campaign, it would be Jack,” Eli said.
“I heard my name and sex,” Jack said, walking up to where they were standing. “Not too unusual, but I am curious.”
“Should I leave?” Kate was standing a little bit behind Jack, barely visible, peering around his shoulder.
“No, we aren’t actually going to pimp Jack out for Eli’s campaign,” Connor said.
“Why not? I would probably do it,” Jack said.
“That is probably not the best way for me to start my political career. You have to wait a couple of years to get involved in sex scandals,” Eli said.
“If you ever do get involved in a sex scandal, it will probably be somehow related to your association with Jack,” Kate said. “And Sadie will have to stand behind you at a press conference looking grave. Maybe it’s time to defriend Jack.”
“You aren’t getting rid of me that easily, Katie,” Jack said, turning to face Kate. “I’m what you call a fixture. It would be harder to get me off Garrett land than it would be to uproot a stump.”
“I’m pretty handy with a winch and a tractor, Monaghan,” Kate said, her expression fierce. “If anyone could uproot your ass, I could.”
“But why would you want to?” Jack asked, turning on that charm of his that seemed to get him anywhere and everywhere he wanted to go in life.
“Let me count the ways,” Kate said.
“Stop trying to scare my friends off,” Connor said. “I have two.” Of course, he had done a fairly good job of alienating the other one. But he was trying to fix that. By not undressing her again.
“Maybe choose better friends,” she said, her words cut off when Jack put his hand over her face. “Jack!” Her shout was muffled.
“Katie is no longer available for comment,” Jack said, smiling broadly.
“If only it were that easy,” Connor said.
For the second time that day he earned a one-finger salute from his younger sister. At least this one seemed a little bit more good-natured than the one in the kitchen. So it was possible all was forgiven. Now, if only things with Liss could be smoothed over quite so easily.
Jack hissed and pulled his hand away from Kate’s face.
“Dammit, Katie! You bit me.”
“You face-palmed me.”
“Son of a bitch. You left teeth marks.” Jack looked at Connor, and Connor shrugged. In his estimation, any guy who was dumb enough to try to pull shit with Kate had swift retribution coming.
He was protective of Kate, but truth be told, she mainly protected herself.
“Okay,” she said brightly, ignoring Jack’s evil eye. “We have one more section to finish shoring up. So maybe we should get back to work.”
“Who died and made you foreman, Kate?” Eli asked.
“In the absence of adequate leadership, someone has to rise to the occasion,” she said, crossing her arms and giving them a smart-ass smile.
“Or, in the absence of leadership, we can skip work and go get a hamburger,” Jack said.
“Hamburger after work,” Kate said resolutely, turning around and heading back toward the section of the fence she and Jack had been working on earlier.
“I should go help her, or she’ll put a rattlesnake in my boots. Or bite my ankle herself,” Jack said, turning and following after Kate.
“Do you want to go check out the barn while we let them finish the less desirable work?” Connor asked Eli.
“Absolutely,” he said.
* * *
A DAY OF HIDING beneath a blanket had not done much to defuse the feelings that were rioting through Liss. She had done nothing but sit in bed wearing woolen socks, drinking warm beverages and watching saccharine movies, and, unsurprisingly, she did not feel better. She felt cozy, but slightly stale, and as twilight settled over the scenery outside, more than a little bit maudlin.
Because her greatest fantasy had come to screaming, sweaty life, and it had been everything she had ever wanted and more from a physical standpoint. But it had left her feeling hollowed out emotionally. Now it was over, never to be repeated. And it just didn’t feel like enough.
Actually, that was the world’s biggest damn understatement.
It was like the incredible crash that came after Christmas morning. If Christmas only came once in eighteen years and then promised to never come again.
She let out a heavy sigh and flopped backward, one of her throw pillows just under the center of her spine. She contorted her expression, reached underneath herself, grabbed the edge of the pillow and yanked it out, throwing it across the room. Everything was against her and her comfort. She let out a long, drawn-out groan and then rolled over onto her stomach.
She lif
ted her head slightly, pitifully, and looked over at her nightstand. There were four mugs on it. Representing the progression of the day. One that had contained coffee, one that had contained tea, one that had contained cocoa and then another coffee mug from when she had gone into the kitchen, forgotten the first mug and been too lazy to correct the error.
“You are a pathetic creature, Felicity Foster,” she said to the emptiness of her room.
But what could she do? And how could she be anything but pathetic? She had peaked. Fantasy-wise, anyway. And she was currently living with the man who had peaked her fantasies. And then crashed her fantasies.
She rolled off the bed and stood up, scrubbing her hands over her face. Then she walked over to the window and looked outside. She could see the line of pine trees that stood sentinel along the yard, separating Connor’s home from Eli’s, Kate’s and the rest of the ranch. And she could see the porch, the light on, casting the lawn in a yellow glow.
She was as familiar with this house, with this property, as she had been with her own former house. Very few things had changed over the years, and ironically, in this house that seemed so unchanged, her relationship with Connor had changed past the point of no return. And they were trying to return. Because it was what Connor wanted.
She frowned.
She didn’t want that. And she hadn’t fought for anything else, for anything more. Because she was so used to being accommodating that it had just never even occurred to her. What Connor wanted was what she had agreed to. Just the idea of asking for something more had seemed like begging to her. Had seemed sad and pitiful rather than a reasonable thing.
Why did she do that? Why did she think what she wanted shouldn’t matter? That it was wrong somehow?
Stupid question; she knew why she did that. She did that because every single person in her life whom she cared about always made her feel as if she had to earn her spot.
Except for Connor. Connor had never done that.
She moved closer to the window, pressing her forehead against the glass and letting out a long breath, fogging up her view.
She was so tired. Her relationship with her mother made her tired; the fact that she had spent years in a relationship with Marshall made her tired. The fact that she had been acting the part of Connor’s wife, while getting nothing of the good part in return, for the past three years, made her tired.
