by Maisey Yates
Hopefully the dress in the bag fits. If it does, and you don’t think I’m an idiot, meet me in the barn.
He hadn’t signed it, but he hadn’t needed to.
Unbearably curious now, she pulled the zipper tab on the bag, drawing it down slowly and revealing a wedge of pale pink. Her breath caught, and she undid the zipper faster, parting the two sides of the bag to reveal the dress inside. She slid her hands down the back of the skirt, pulling it more fully out of the bag.
It could have been the exact same dress she had purchased for the prom she had never attended. Satin, with vertical seams that ran from the bodice down the skirt. Spaghetti straps with clear beads sewn into them.
It was definitely dated. Not in the least bit fashionable.
She still thought it was beautiful.
“You shady bastard. How did you manage?”
She took it off the hanger and stripped her clothes off quickly. For a moment she was afraid to put it on. Just in case that was the end of the fantasy. And she couldn’t get it zipped over her hips or something.
She took a deep breath and grabbed hold of the tiny little impractical zipper, pulling it down and stepping into the center of the pool of satin, pulling it up her body, working her arms through the straps.
She turned and looked at herself in the mirror that hung on the opposite wall. She took a breath and zipped it up.
It fit.
Which meant she had a date in the barn.
* * *
LISS OPENED THE DOOR to the barn slowly, her breath catching as she saw the inside, the lights that were strung overhead casting a golden glow on everything. The tables were set with the flower arrangements they’d labored over, each chair placed around the table decorated with a burlap ribbon.
Everything in the barn looked and smelled new, sawdust and pine lingering in the air.
But the thing that made her heart stop was the sight of Connor, wearing a pair of black dress pants and a white shirt, tucked into the waistband of those pants. The shirt wasn’t buttoned all the way, the collar left open, and he certainly wasn’t wearing a tie. But for Connor, this was the ultimate in formal wear.
She stopped right in the doorway, laughing, and she wasn’t really sure why. “What did you do?” she asked.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I saw the dress in the window of a secondhand place, and I knew you had to have it.” He cleared his throat. “But then I thought it was kind of stupid to have a prom dress and no prom.” He shrugged. “So I thought since the barn was already decorated...”
Liss’s throat was so tight she didn’t think she could speak. She could barely breathe. So she didn’t say anything. She just walked toward the man who meant more to her than any other person on earth.
“I didn’t hang up any balloons or anything,” he said. “But I did spike the punch.”
She laughed, a kind of shaky, thin laugh. “You made punch?”
“No, actually I just brought wine coolers. Because I’m trying to cut back.”
“Well, it’s the thought that counts.”
Except this went well beyond the thought. It was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her, and she knew he wasn’t thinking of it as romance. The thought was like a knife cutting into her heart, as easily as she’d sliced through those peaches the other day.
“Since it’s prom, I figure we should dance,” he said, sounding grim.
“We don’t have to dance,” she said. But she wanted to.
“I know we don’t.” He moved away from her and crossed the room, going to where Sadie had left the speakers they’d been using last night. “Fortunately, Sadie left her thing in here. Because nothing I own could hook up to this.”
He pressed Play, and a slow, instrumental song filled the room. Then he turned and held out his hand. “Since you’re my prom date, Felicity Foster, I’d like to have this dance.”
“Okay,” she said, because it was all she could say.
She curled her fingers around his, and he pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist.
“I don’t know how to dance,” he said, moving slightly, out of time with the music.
“I don’t care.”
Because the rhythm didn’t matter, the steps didn’t matter, only her partner mattered. She slipped her hand out of his and wrapped both of her arms around his neck, and he put both of his hands on her hips. She rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek.
Yes, she had wanted to go to prom back in high school. But he had been the date she’d dreamed of. Not the one she’d had. And Connor had gone with someone else.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to think about what it would’ve been like if he had asked her back then.
And she realized there was no point in regretting it. Because she had been young then, and so had he. And as much as she had liked him back then, as much as her teenage hormones had panted after him, it was nothing compared to the way she felt about him now.
He was a man now. So different from the boy he had been. Shaped by the ensuing years and by the losses and triumphs that had marked each one.
Connor the boy had the top spot in her fantasies, but Connor the man held her heart.
And it didn’t matter where they were fifteen years ago. All that mattered was where they were now.
She angled her head upward and kissed him. Deeper, longer, and with a lot more skill than she could have managed back on her real prom night, too.
He tightened his hold on her, returning the kiss, his hands moving from her hips down to cup her butt. He pulled her tightly against his body, against the hard ridge of his arousal.
“The song is over,” she said, her lips still pressed against his.
“Yes, it is.”
“Does that mean prom is over?”
“Prom, maybe. But not prom night.”
“Oh, good. You know... You know what happens on prom night,” she said, sliding her hand beneath the collar of his shirt.
“I don’t know. I just dropped my date off before midnight, so if you’re expecting something else...”
She pressed a kiss to his neck. “I am expecting to get lucky. I’m wearing a pink satin gown. How can I fail?”
“Oh, honey,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “you’re you. You couldn’t fail no matter what you were wearing.”
“How did you find a dress in my size?” she asked. “I have to know.”
“It was actually too big. But I bought it then had a look in your laundry, and the woman at the store trimmed it down according to the size I gave her.”
She blinked hard, trying not to cry. “That was... That was...” She took a deep breath to try to ease the pressure in her chest. “I don’t... You gave this back to me and I...I can’t give anything back to you. I can never make us even.”
“Maybe there’s nothing old for you to give me, but you’ve given me new things. And for a guy whose been spending all his time in the past, that’s a hell of a thing.”
“Connor, I don’t... This is just too thoughtful. I can’t repay it.”
“There’s no scoresheet with us, Liss. Not now, not ever.”
“I’m not used to that,” she said, sniffing.
“Liss,” he said, bending down and brushing a kiss to her lips, “I hate that you gave that away for your mom. I hate that she made you feel like you owed her something just for being alive. You’re not a burden.”
She closed her eyes. “Connor...don’t make me cry.”
“I need you to know that. I need you to understand why I wanted to do this for you. I need you to understand that it wasn’t a lot of trouble, that it isn’t amazing that I thought of you. Who wouldn’t think of you?”
“A lot of people,” she said, her words thick.
“Stupid people.” He kissed her again, and she just stopped thinking. She stopped doing anything but relishing the moment.
There was no point worrying about the future or the past when the present was so damn good.
She put her hands on the buttons of his shirt and started to undo them, pushing the fabric open and sliding her palms over his bare skin, relishing the feel of his heat and skin, of his muscles and the slight roughness of his chest hair.
She pushed the shirt off his shoulders and onto the floor and just looked at him for a moment. “You are... Connor, you have no idea.”
His lips curved into a lopsided smile. “Show me.”
She reached behind her back and undid her zipper, letting the dress fall to the floor. She took a deep breath and met his gaze. She didn’t feel insecure or uncertain at all, another perk of being in her thirties instead of being a teenager.
She wasn’t shy about showing him her body, and he wasn’t shy about showing her how much he appreciated it.
“I’m pretty sure you didn’t have any underwear that looked like that when we were in high school.”
She looked down at the strapless, pink lace bra she was wearing, and at the matching thong. Then she looked back up at Connor. “No reason to. Since no one was seeing them.”
“And right now I’m the only one who gets to see them,” he said.
“Possessive.”
He growled and closed the space between them, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her hard against his body. “Damn right I’m possessive.”
“Why is that?” She needed affirmation, and she needed it now.
“Because I’m the only man who’s going to touch you, Liss.”
“Why do you care?”
“Because you’re mine,” he said, his tone firm, uncompromising.
“Why?” Maybe it was a stupid question, maybe there was no good answer to it. But she wanted to hear something that wasn’t “because you’re helpful,” “because you make things convenient,” “because you do my accounting.” She needed something deeper, was starving for it.
Hungry for something she knew he wouldn’t give her, but she would take whatever she could get. Whatever was closest.
“Because I can’t stop,” he said, tracing her lower lip with his thumb then following the same trail with his tongue. “I can’t stop thinking about you, I can’t stop wanting you, I can’t stop having you.” He shook his head. “Dammit, Liss, nothing has ever been like this.”
His words rolled over her like warm oil, smooth and soothing and heating her blood at the same time. Liss shivered beneath his touch, her heart beating faster. It wasn’t love, but it was enough. Right now it was enough.
He kissed her again, hungrier this time, deeper.
“Connor... I need... I need...”
“I know, baby.” He turned around to one of the tables that was inside the barn. “We can never tell Sadie.” His tone was grave as he took the flower arrangements off the table, and the tablecloth off the surface and spread it on the floor. “Obviously, I’m not as prepared as you were with your picnic. But problem solved.”
“You could have had me on the floor, Connor.”
“But then I would’ve spent the rest of the evening picking splinters out of your ass, and as nice as that sounds, that’s not how I want to spend the rest of the evening.”
“Yeah, not my idea of a good time, either.”
He slid his hand down to her butt, palmed her cheek, squeezed it hard. “Yeah, I can think of much better things we could be doing.”
He took her hand and led her to the makeshift blanket, drawing her down onto the floor with him. He made quick work of her clothes and his, retrieving his wallet before he discarded his pants, producing a condom just in time.
“You did think of some things,” she said. “The important things.”
“Thankfully.” He bent his head to her breast, sucking her nipple deep into his mouth. “Yeah, thankfully. Because I have got to have you.”
“Have me. I want you. Connor, I want you so much,” she said.
She forgot about hiding any part of herself, forgot about concealing her feelings, from herself or from him. Because there was no room for that now.
He saw her already, anyway. So clearly that he had known, even when she’d told him that the prom dress she’d never gotten to wear was ugly, that what she really meant was the loss still hurt.
He’d known, and he had taken steps to fix it.
And she had nothing else to give him but her honesty. So she would. If she couldn’t give it with her lips, she would give it with her body.
She shifted beneath him, arching her hips so that the blunt head of his cock met with her slick flesh, sliding over her clit, sending a shock of pleasure through her. “Nothing feels like this,” she said, “like the way it feels to have you inside of me.”
“Damn straight, baby. When I’m inside you it’s like there’s nothing else.”
He ran his hand down her thigh, slid her leg up over his hip and pushed inside her slowly, stretching her, filling her. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears pressing against her lids, and she fought to hold them at bay.
“Don’t hold back,” she said, the words choked.
He shuddered, and it was as if her words snapped the thread that had been holding his control in check. He bucked hard against her, the motion bringing him into contact with her clit again. He slid his hands beneath her butt, raising her hips, bringing her up against him every time he thrust down deep.
“Liss,” he said, his voice a growl. “Liss,” he said again, broken this time, desperate.
He lowered his head, burying his face in her neck, and she felt him start to shake.
It was his surrender, his loss of control, that destroyed what was left of hers. He thrust into her one last time, coming on a growl just as her own release tore through her, leaving her breathless, spent and dizzy.
They were both breathing hard, and Connor lifted his head, kissing her, deep, slowly. “Liss,” he said, just her name. Nothing else.
But nothing else could have made her feel more special.
Nothing more than a pink prom dress and the most perfect moment with the man she loved. The man she had always loved.
And the man she always would love. No matter what.
* * *
A TABLECLOTH DIDN’T do much to shield a person from the hardness of a barn floor. But at the moment Connor couldn’t say he cared. He didn’t care about anything beyond the warm weight of Liss’s naked body over his.
Doing this for her... It had felt essential. The need to do something for her, to show her he cared, a drive he hadn’t quite understood.
Except maybe it was part of trying to move forward. Because he was trying to do that. And he wanted her to do it, too. If they could take on some of her old hurts, maybe he would have better luck tackling some of his own.
He wrapped his arms around her, holding on to her tight. Something about what had just happened had changed things between them, or at least it had changed something in him.
Something in this moment of laying the past to rest made him want to do the same.
“I...” The word died in his throat, blocking any more from coming out. He had never talked about this. Had never told another soul. But maybe this place, this new place that had been built over the ashes of a tragedy, was magic in some way.
Maybe it was the best place, the best moment, to say them.
He tried to breathe through the knot in his chest, sweat beading on his forehead, panic galloping through his chest like a herd of wild horses. He felt dizzy, his mouth dry, his stomach heaving.
The silence was costing him. And he couldn’t hold i
t anymore.
“Her due date was September fifteenth,” he said. They weren’t exactly the words he had meant to say. But they were all he could manage.
“Whose?” Liss’s voice sounded...horrified. Terrified. But then, he had never expected anything else.
It was just one of the reasons he had never talked about this.
But she had shared with him. And he needed to say this, needed to share it, because the secret, the pain, was like a living beast inside him, eating away at any ounce of happiness that tried to take hold of his soul.
And maybe telling her wouldn’t help. But maybe it would.
“Jessie.”
Liss didn’t say anything; she just wrapped her arms around him, tightened her hold on him. She didn’t speak, so he continued.
“We were having a hard time. The whole last year our marriage was really rough. She didn’t like the amount of time I spent on the ranch. And I did a bunch of inconsiderate, boneheaded shit. I didn’t think anything of finishing up work and going down to Ace’s with the guys. I didn’t remember to water her flowers. Hell, that year I forgot her birthday. Not that I forgot the date of her birthday, I just didn’t realize what day it was and... She was pretty fed up with me. And I can’t say I blame her. Me? I was just pissed because I felt like I was the same. And she was angry that I hadn’t changed. But...then she found out she was pregnant. And I was pretty damn grateful, let me tell you. Because I thought that was my lifeline. My second chance.”
He released his hold on Liss, but she kept hers on him. He put a hand on his forehead, squeezing his temples tight. “I don’t know, maybe she never would have left me, with or without the baby. But the baby... We had a baby coming. And I...I told her I was going to change. And I did. I was going to be a father, and I suddenly saw myself in a completely different way. Saw the man my father had been, the man whose wife had left him with his kids. And I...I knew I didn’t want that. So I promised her that I would change. I promised I would be better. It was my wake-up call. I was going to fix things.”
He took a deep breath. “I had barely started to try to get things back together. I never had the chance. I never even got to tell everyone about the baby. We never got to tell anyone. She was eleven and a half weeks pregnant. Just three more fucking days and we were going to tell everyone. But what’s the point of doing a birth announcement when you’re planning a funeral?”
