Between Love and Loyalty

by Shannyn Schroeder

  Connor shook his head, but didn’t stifle the laugh that bubbled out. His charming half-smile always sucked her in, but his laugh was like sin. Deep and rumbly, it was a sound she’d like to be surrounded and soothed by.

  He caught her staring at him. “What?”

  “First, it was sweet to accommodate a little girl’s request. Second, you don’t do that nearly enough.”

  “Accommodate girls? I’ll accommodate you shortly.”

  Fiona rolled her eyes. “No, I meant you don’t laugh nearly enough. I like the sound of it.”

  He shook his head at her and continued to hand out bags. She couldn’t quite understand this man. The grunt he offered Melanie fit his exterior, like it was a normal mode of communication, but he was so much more than the caveman appearance. It was all in his body language. She’d seen him build furniture from a block of wood, watched him play with his dog like a kid on the playground, and felt him worship her body during sex. He didn’t speak much, but he communicated well.

  With the box empty, Connor ripped it and broke it down for recycling. “If you want to stay and help Sarah, we can.”

  See? Few words, but such a generous offer. “No, she’ll be fine. I came early to set up. Besides, I’m really beat.”

  His arm snaked around her waist and he lowered his lips to her ear. “Need me to carry you home?”

  His breath caressed her neck and that oh-so-sensitive spot below her ear.

  “Tempting offer,” she whispered.

  “I have better ways to tempt you.”

  “Promise?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He nipped her earlobe sending a shiver down her spine.

  She pressed a hand to his solid chest. “Let me say good-bye to Sarah. Meet you in your truck?”

  “I’ll wait outside the door.”

  “I can find your truck.”

  “I’m not letting you walk this neighborhood dressed like that.”

  She rolled her eyes again. “You’re probably worried I might get a better offer.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  She patted the mass below her hand. “You never know. Batman might be out there to take me.”

  “Let him try.”

  Warmth pooled in Fiona’s belly as she pulled away from Connor. He headed to the door and she went to find Sarah. The election was less than a week away. She needed to tell Connor the truth. Things between them were in an odd place. Part of her feared the truth would drive him away.

  Sarah stood in the middle of the gym telling the volunteers what to do. “Hey, I thought you left.”

  “I’m going now. I wanted to check to make sure you had everything covered.”

  “We’re good.” She tilted her head and smiled at Fiona. “So, Connor, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought he was a one-night thing. Someone to let you escape your family.”

  “He was. He still is, I guess. I haven’t told him who I am yet.”

  Sarah’s brow furrowed. “How did you manage to pull that off? He met Aiden, didn’t he?”

  “I don’t think so. Besides, Aiden dressed as a zombie tonight, remember? He didn’t match my dad’s campaign photos. But I was just thinking about how I need to tell Connor the truth.”

  “Do you want this to go somewhere?”

  Fiona shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. I really like him. And the sex is phenomenal. I’m afraid the Cavanagh name will scare him off, though. What should I do?”

  “There is no right answer. If you don’t tell him, he’ll find out eventually. Using a fake name for a one-night stand is one thing, but you can’t base a relationship on a lie.”

  Fiona knew her friend was right. A ball of dread settled in her stomach. She hated the lies, but they gave her peace.

  She left the gym and grabbed her coat. Her phone bleeped letting her know she had a message. She leaned against the wall and listened.

  “Fiona, we need to talk. Call me.”

  It was never good when her brother left a message without revealing the purpose for his call. She stared at the screen. Call him now or later? Connor stood outside waiting to take her home and ravish her. She didn’t want to postpone, but the thought of Aiden calling and interrupting them later was worse, so she dialed.

  “I’m glad you called me back.”

  “What’s up? We just saw each other.”

  “I met your boyfriend.”

  Connor hadn’t mentioned it. Why didn’t he tell her?

  “You can’t be serious about him, Fi. He’s not the right kind of guy for you.”

  “Careful, you’re starting to sound like Mom.” The muscles in her neck tightened. Aiden rarely commented on her choice of companionship.

  “You can’t trust him.”

  “You move pretty fast. What’d you do, run home and boot up your investigative search engines? How could you possibly know I can’t trust him?”

  Silence greeted her question. Aiden’s heavy breath whispered over the line. “Because you can’t. He’s not who you think he is.”

  “What do you mean? He lied about his name?” They really were alike if that was the case. Connor couldn’t get mad at her if he was guilty of the same thing.

  “No, he’s not a good guy.”

  Aiden was talking in circles and her patience had run out. “He’s never been anything but good to me. Even when he probably shouldn’t have been.”

  “You’re not going to listen to me, are you?”

  “Unless you give me an actual reason to break up with him, no. I like him.” She was falling for him fast, but if she admitted it to Aiden, he would probably get their parents involved.

  “You need to trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”

  Fiona heard something under the words. A warning in the quality of Aiden’s voice. But then she looked up and saw Connor helping a teenager haul a bag of trash out. He’d already unwrapped his face, but gauze still dangled from his body. She studied him for a minute. He wasn’t a bad guy. No way could she be that far off in her feelings. Could she? She hung up and walked out the door.

  Connor helped her with her coat and studied her face. “Something wrong?”

  Aiden’s accusations stuck in her throat. She shook her head and whispered, “Take me home.”

  * * *

  Fiona was uncharacteristically quiet on the drive to her house, and Connor didn’t know what to make of it. She’d been her usual flirtatious self before she went to find Sarah. Now shadows of something haunted her eyes. She wasn’t the same woman who’d been dancing with children an hour ago. She wasn’t even the same woman who’d allowed him to angrily fuck her against his front door.

  She pulled the mask off her eyes and her whisper broke the silence in the cab of his truck. “My brother called right before we left.”

  Shit. He should’ve known. Aiden had found a way to fuck up his life, even now. “And?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you met?”

  Met. Not knew each other. Aiden hadn’t told her everything. “I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

  “So you obviously didn’t hit it off.”

  He pulled up beside her building and cut the engine. His next words would determine the course of whatever they had going and his ability to get information. “He didn’t like me. Said I wasn’t good enough for you.”

  He offered the truth without being totally honest. No wonder he and Aiden had made such good friends all those years ago.

  “He said you’re not a good guy.”

  Wasn’t that the truth. “By his standards I’m not. I know you’re out of my league. He didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know.”

  Her blue eyes widened. “But you stayed.”

  He reached out and twirled a red curl around his finger. “I don’t seem to be able to say no to you. As long as you want me, I’m here.”

  “Come inside.”

  “You sure?” The question was loaded. Every one of their trysts had been at his house. Other than
dropping her off at home, she’d never invited him in. Part of him wanted to see her space, how she lived, but the practical part of him knew he might find some information in there.

  She nodded and climbed from his truck. He locked up and followed. She said nothing on the way up in the elevator, but she reached over and linked her fingers to his. His plan fell to shit every time she touched him. He couldn’t think of her as one of the devious Cavanaghs. Especially when a simple conversation with her brother stole so much from her.

  He wished he had the words to convey how he wished she’d been born into any other family because if she had, he would’ve fallen completely in love with her by now.

  The thought should’ve rattled him more than it did. Knowing what could’ve been was something he’d lived with for years. Knowing what was impossible and regrettable barely made a blip on his radar.

  Her apartment was dark and he shuffled his feet, waiting for her to turn on a light. Instead, she continued to walk through the rooms until they reached her bedroom. Light from the street filtered through curtains and he could make out a bed and a dresser, but not much else. She turned, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

  Her lips trembled under his and he pulled away. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want to talk.” She stepped back and began to unwrap the bandages he had covering his body.

  She slowly circled him, balling up the gauze as she went. Once his torso was clear, she knelt and continued to unwrap him. She looked small and helpless with none of the flirty playfulness she usually exhibited in the bedroom, or anyplace where they’d gotten naked. She finished and tossed the balled-up gauze onto the chair in the corner.

  Turning her back to him, she lifted her hair from her shoulders to reveal the zipper for her costume. His fingers were cold from outside and compared to them, her skin felt feverish. Goose bumps rose on her flesh as she peeled the costume away. She wore nothing underneath and he hardened at the sight of her.

  She tugged his T-shirt, fingers skimming his stomach, and followed with her lips and tongue. He yanked the shirt over his head to give her the access she wanted, and while she licked his nipple, she unbuttoned his jeans. He toed off his gym shoes and walked her toward the bed. She needed something from him, but he wasn’t sure what, so he let her take the lead. He shucked his remaining clothes and covered her body with his. He kissed her slowly, waiting for her response so he could figure out what she needed. Her hands moved slowly over his skin, like her fingertips were reading braille.

  Slow. She needed slow, careful attention. But why? His mind raced, but her hands distracted him. He let his body do its own discovery of hers, with the hope of finding something new. He grabbed her wrists and pulled them over her head. He held them with one hand while his other continued to explore. If she wanted slow, he’d give every inch of her deliberate attention. If nothing else, it would make her forget whatever worried her.

  Fiona made no attempt to pull out of his grasp. Her gaze remained focused on his every movement. Even when he lowered his mouth to kiss across her hip and he released her wrists, she didn’t move. She wiggled beneath him and he lowered his mouth to her pussy, which was already slick and wet. Damn, she tasted good. When he flicked his tongue over her clit, her hips jumped and her hands grasped at his head.

  He pulled away and sucked at her inner thigh. She tried to push his head back, but when he bit the soft flesh, she inhaled sharply and simply ran her fingers over his scalp. He kissed his way down her long leg and pressed his thumb into the arch of her foot. Her moan was so loud, her neighbors would think he was still eating her. He moved to her right foot and then licked his way up that leg. Fiona’s skin was flush and warm.

  When he reached her pussy again, he began to lick, pulling a gasp from her. She was close, but he wouldn’t let her get where she wanted. Not yet. Even though it meant he had to ignore his throbbing cock. All he wanted to do was bury himself in her.

  Fiona scraped her nails on his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He splayed his hands on her inner thighs, spreading her wide and dipped two fingers in. Her hips created a rhythm and he pressed down to stop her. This was his show. He sucked on her clit and her calves closed in on his shoulders. She bucked and held him where she wanted and so he continued to play until her release was imminent.

  “Connor.”

  There was no better sound than his name on her lips.

  “Don’t stop.”

  He mumbled against her, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Her hips jumped and her thighs trembled. Her muscles clenched on his fingers and he wanted it to be his dick, so he pulled out. She whimpered.

  “I’m not done with you yet.” He put on a condom and rubbed himself against her.

  “Now,” she whispered.

  He slid in, pulled out and then slid deeper.

  Fiona pulled at his shoulders. “Closer. Come closer.”

  He lowered himself and wrapped his arms under her. She folded her legs and locked them behind his back.

  “Closer,” she begged.

  Connor buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent and rocked slowly. She held tight, and he knew what she needed.

  Fiona was saying good-bye.

  Chapter 7

  Fiona lay spent and sweaty and gloriously satisfied. Connor had suspected something was wrong, but he’d yet to ask. He had no reason to put up with her bullshit, but he did. Over and over. When they’d left the party, she planned to tell him the truth, but now, laying here with him, she couldn’t. She wasn’t ready to lose him. And she was pretty sure she would.

  The heat from his body kept her warm. She lay on his bicep and he toyed with her hair. What if she just blurted it out? I’m a Cavanagh. What was the likelihood the name would mean anything to him? She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to imagine his response.

  Nothing. He wouldn’t say anything. Connor wasn’t demonstrative in too many ways. With him it was the small things. Touching her hair. His half-smile. But she could imagine the hurt in his eyes.

  “You want to talk yet?”

  She turned her head and opened her eyes. The streetlights illuminated the room enough so she could make out his silhouette, but not much else. Perfect for making a confession.

  “My cousin is getting married in a couple of weeks. I’d like you to go with me.” Shit. That wasn’t supposed to come out.

  “A wedding?” He shifted away.

  “I know it’s short notice, but…”

  “Isn’t your family going to be there?”

  “Yeah.”

  Connor remained silent, staring at the ceiling. Yet another bad idea she had.

  “I’m sorry I asked. I hate going to those things alone. You know how family gets. They start in with the questions about why I’m still single and what I’m doing to change it. It’s a bad idea. If you’re there, they’ll start making assumptions. Forget I said anything.” She sat up and grabbed her robe.

  She went to the bathroom and freshened up. She had no idea what she was doing anymore. The pathetic invitation made her sound weak and that thought bubbled in her stomach. In the Cavanagh family nothing was worse than weakness. What had she been thinking? Connor managed to turn her world upside down and they hadn’t even been on a proper date. How would she explain him to her family?

  A soft knock sounded on the bathroom door. Connor poked his head in. “You okay?”

  She smiled and hoped it looked real. “I’m fine.”

  “Look, it’s not that I wouldn’t go with you, but…it’s a family thing. And your brother made his feelings clear.”

  She tightened the belt on her robe. “It’s okay. Forget I said anything. Really. It was a dumb idea.”

  “Fiona—”

  “It’s no big deal, Connor.” She brushed past him, glanced at her bedroom, and went to her office instead. She heard water running and then the toilet flushed. If Connor sought her out, she had no idea what to do or say.

  Saying noth
ing would be best, so she grabbed her tools. She pulled her hair up and tied it in a knot to keep it out of the way and then rummaged through the bowls and containers of stuff. One day, she’d get organized. She was an impulse buyer when it came to trinkets she could use to create jewelry. The problem lay in the fact hat she kept buying despite the growing piles.

  To a certain degree, the piles added to her creativity because she never knew what would stimulate her imagination. She dug through a mountain of buttons and felt Connor’s presence. He didn’t say anything, but she felt him looming.

  She gazed at the mess on the table and compared it to his clean, organized workshop. Thinking of his workshop led to thoughts of his muscled arms flexing while turning wood, sanding a smooth finish, and a flush crept across her body.

  He cleared his throat as if she wasn’t aware of his presence.

  She glanced at him, not wanting him to see the blush on her skin because he would know what she’d been thinking. He always did.

  “Do you want me to go?”

  Did she? She hadn’t spent the night with him since the disastrous camping trip. Having him here, in her home, made it a relationship, not the late-night booty call he’d been. He always extended the invitation for her to stay at his place, even knowing she wouldn’t. Except for that camping weekend. If she told him to stay, it would change the parameters of everything they shared.

  Hadn’t she already done that by asking him to the party? And then to the wedding? She’d started changing the rules without thought.

  He shifted and walked across the small space. “Can I watch you work for a while? I’d like to see what you do.”

  “Sure, but it’s not exciting.” She pointed to the extra stool she had in the room, which currently held a sweatshirt, a scarf, and a book. She didn’t have too many visitors here.

  He scooped up the items and looked for a place to put them, but set them on the floor. He picked up the stool and placed it beside hers at her worktable.

  Fiona tried to focus. Connor wore nothing but his underwear and all that bare skin distracted her. He leaned forward and rested his chin on his fist, eyes intent on her hands. She worked the wire and twisted with pliers to secure the piece. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d been studied while she worked. “You want to try?”