Between Love and Loyalty

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Between Love and Loyalty Page 14

by Shannyn Schroeder


  Because you invited her, idiot.

  As the man backed away and walked toward the bar, Fiona stared after him. Connor focused on her, his brain scrambling to create his next move. The man returned quickly with two bottles of beer. Then she realized Connor was there. It was a subtle shift at first.

  She’d been smiling at the guy carrying drinks. Then she rolled her shoulder and accepted the bottle. She glanced at Connor without turning her head and tilted her bottle toward him. Her focus returned to the man across from her, dismissing Connor.

  His blood boiled seeing her smile at another man.

  How could she so easily brush aside what they had? He didn’t go to a wedding, so she found his replacement? Fuck that. If she wanted to play games, she could play by herself. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing him crazy. Connor went back to the bar and reclaimed his seat. Unfortunately, it put Fiona and her date in his line of sight. He looked up and down the bar. Every stool was filled, so he couldn’t move.

  He waved his hand to get another shot and beer. Doing his best to ignore Fiona and her date, Connor questioned his sanity. What had he hoped would happen by inviting her to Dermott’s? Hadn’t he already decided they didn’t have a chance? At least as long as she remained a Cavanagh.

  Yet watching her smile and laugh with someone else gutted him.

  He was glad Dermott had left and couldn’t witness this. He’d be the first to point out that Connor had lost his focus. He was supposed to be ruining the Cavanaghs, not climbing into bed with them. But being in bed with Fiona was exactly what he craved. Connor shook his head, berating himself, and downed the shot.

  Laughter curled around him and Connor knew he couldn’t stomach Fiona’s game. She won. He drank his beer quickly to end the misery. Then he saw Fiona walk toward the bathroom. Without thinking, he followed.

  He stood outside the bathroom door and waited for her exit. When she did, she started and blinked, as if surprised he was there. As if.

  “Having fun on your date?”

  “Yes, I am. Thanks for asking.” Her syrupy sweet voice made his teeth ache.

  “You shouldn’t have brought him here.”

  “What do you care? You decided to blow me off. What are you going to do, start a fight?”

  “I’d start and end it, and we both know that. The poor schmuck wouldn’t even see it coming. Doesn’t seem fair.” He edged closer to her.

  She spoke quietly. “What do you want, Connor?”

  “You know what I want.”

  “I’m here with someone else.”

  Her eyes darted everywhere but where he wanted them, needed them. He tilted her chin up to catch her attention. “I don’t give a fuck who you’re here with.”

  He leaned down and captured her mouth. Her gasp sucked the breath from his lungs and he pushed against her. A moan rose in her throat and he swallowed it as her hands grabbed at his shirt. He waited for her to push him away, but they twisted in the cotton. She tasted of beer and the same sweetness that was always Fiona. Connor thrust his hands into her hair and shifted to take more from her, to make her want him.

  As if suddenly realizing what they were doing, she pushed him. He inched his chest from her body, but they were still rubbing pelvises, his fingers tangled in her curls. He simply raised an eyebrow at her, waiting explanation.

  “Get off me. You can’t do this. You can’t decide to stand me up and then make out with me in the hallway of a bar. Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “I’m the guy you’ve been taunting. I’m the one who gets you hot and bothered. The one who can kiss you the way you beg to be kissed.” He released her hair and stepped back. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too. After that kiss, I’d venture to say your date doesn’t have what it takes.”

  “My date is none of your business.” She swiped her fingers over her lips and he saw the slight tremble.

  “Is there a problem here?” A voice asked from behind them.

  Fiona shoved past Connor. “Not at all. I’m ready to go. Please take me home.”

  The man threw a glare at Connor over Fiona’s shoulder, but asked her, “You okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Connor saw her try to shake off the effect of their kiss as he leaned against the wall to watch her walk away. When she reached for the guy’s hand, Connor had to stop himself from lunging forward. He had no right to prevent her from leaving with someone else. He pressed his feet to the floor willing himself not to move. After a few minutes, he shuffled forward, certain Fiona had had enough time to escape. Enough time had passed so he couldn’t pull her back into his arms where he wanted her, but where she didn’t belong.

  * * *

  Once they were settled in John’s car and Fiona had given him directions to get her home, he finally asked, “How did your plan work?”

  “Better than expected.” She’d felt Connor’s jealousy in his searing kiss, in the way he possessively held her head, in the way he’d taken her despite the fact she was with another man. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I don’t know what I was thinking. It might’ve been the alcohol making decisions.”

  “I think alcohol played an important role, but don’t apologize. You made my evening interesting. I’m almost never used to make a guy jealous.”

  “Really?” she asked playfully. “You did such a great job I figured you had ample experience.”

  He laughed and it was a warm, easy sound. Which described John. Comfortable. Why couldn’t she be more attracted to him? They drove in silence the rest of the trip to her condo and as Fiona’s buzz wore off, she began to drag and wanted nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep.

  John parked and jumped out of the car to open her door for her. She stood awkwardly looking at him, knowing she wouldn’t invite him up, but not sure if she wanted to exchange numbers. He was a nice guy. Her mother already approved.

  “Thank you for a great night, Fiona.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

  “Don’t you want to collect on our deal? A goodnight kiss?”

  “We tried at the bar. I think we both know that although we enjoyed each other’s company, it’s not going to turn into anything else.” He pulled a business card from his pocket. “Here’s my number, though, if you ever want to get together to hang out. I have a feeling that spending time with you would be a blast.”

  She smiled and took the card. “Thanks. You saved my night.”

  She pushed away from the car and walked toward her building. John watched her walk away and although she was conscious of it, she didn’t feel it. Not the way she felt Connor’s hot glare on her back as she’d held John’s hand to leave Dermott’s. Inside, she kicked off her shoes and grabbed her phone to call Sarah. No one bitched about men like Sarah could.

  A healthy dose of girlfriend trash talk would straighten her out. Who needed a man like Connor?

  If her hormones answered the question, they would say she did. She sighed and dialed Sarah’s number.

  Sarah answered on the second ring. And here Fiona thought Sarah had a more engaging social life than she did.

  “How’d it go?”

  “The wedding was beautiful. Connor stood me up. I met a guy who I convinced to take me to drink at the bar where Connor hangs out to make him jealous. I’m coming down off my buzz and home alone.”

  “Wow. Where to start? Connor’s an ass, at least you drank for free, and tell me about the new guy. Did he fight with Connor over you?”

  Fiona laughed. “No fights. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was with John, who’s a nice guy, gainfully employed, and cute. Unfortunately, no sparks. But he was fun. We ditched the wedding after my mother decided to hound John, and Connor called when we got to the car. I shouldn’t have answered, but I was pissed, you know? I didn’t expect him to go to the wedding with me, he volunteered.”

  “I think you did expect him to go.”

  “Well, sure, after he volunteered.”

  “No,
before that. You told me you asked him and he dodged it. I know you. In the back of your head you were clinging to the hope that he’d change his mind and when he did, you probably started hearing wedding bells.”

  “I did not.” Not the wedding bells anyway. So she was falling for him. Where was the harm in that?

  “As soon as you fall for a guy, you start imagining the future. It’s not a bad thing, but you keep doing it with the wrong guys. Connor isn’t your future.”

  Fiona knew it. Hadn’t she told herself the same thing a bunch of times? But hearing the harshness of the reality stung. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re a romantic. You love being in love. It’s a great place to be, but you have to be realistic, too. Why Connor? I picked him out of the crowd because he screamed temporary. And you told me earlier this week that both Aiden and your dad don’t like him. What does that say?”

  Fiona rubbed the spot between her eyebrows that had begun to ache. “He’s different, Sarah. He doesn’t expect anything from me. He likes me, not my last name.” Guilt still weighed on her for lying about her name even though Connor now knew the truth. But she still hadn’t gotten the chance to explain to him.

  “Maybe him not showing was supposed to be a clear message.”

  “But it wasn’t. He called me to apologize. He could’ve ignored my nasty messages. After I lied about who I am, shouldn’t I at least give him the chance to explain?”

  “How deep are you into this guy, Fi?”

  “I think I love him.”

  “I knew it. Didn’t I tell you not to let that happen?”

  “You know I can’t control it. Especially when it comes to guys I shouldn’t fall in love with. I feel good when I’m with him, Sarah, different than with other guys. Ever. I can be me. Why shouldn’t I love him if that’s the way he makes me feel?” Antsiness struck, so she paced her living room.

  “I can’t help but feel Aiden and your dad know something about this guy. If it were your mother saying you should stay away from him, I’d tell you to ignore it. But Aiden? When has he ever cared about who you date? I can say a lot of nasty shit about your brother, but I don’t think he’s pulling anything. What do you really know about Connor?”

  In truth, she didn’t know much. He kept his personal life distant from whatever they shared. Except for when he looked at her while they made love. He was open then and she saw into him. He carried deep pain and he was a little lost, but he cared for her. She knew it.

  “Fi?”

  “I’m still here. You have a point. I don’t know much about Connor. He makes great furniture. He’s all alone, except for his dog. He’s searching for something.” Why couldn’t it be her?

  “Can you at least try to slow it down before you declare your undying love? Take some time to get to know him. Find out who he is. Maybe even talk to Aiden.”

  The thought of talking to Aiden and giving credence to whatever he thought he knew about Connor turned her stomach into a pretzel. “I’ll try.”

  “You’re going to call him now, aren’t you?”

  “No.” She was already shimmying out of her dress and searching for her yoga pants.

  “Be careful.” Sarah always knew when she was lying.

  She disconnected and called for a cab. She hadn’t really lied to Sarah. She wasn’t going to call Connor. She needed to see him. The alcohol haze had worn off and she vividly remembered the kiss they shared at the bar. She was too angry to realize it at the time, but it had been possessive more than jealous.

  He knew what effect he had on her and he’d used it to his advantage. Well, he wasn’t unaffected by their chemistry. She’d use it to her advantage to get him to open up. If he wanted to talk, this would be his chance.

  Chapter 10

  Connor lay in bed staring at the page of the thriller he’d tried to read. He blamed his lack of page turning on his blood-alcohol level, but the truth was, he couldn’t stop thinking about Fiona. The damn woman wouldn’t let him go. Max jolted from his spot on the floor and growled. Then he ran downstairs barking.

  Connor followed his dog, hoping Max hadn’t been imagining a guest on their doorstep. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, the knock sounded. Max jumped excitedly. Fiona stood on his porch gripping two cups of coffee.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi,” she said with a forced smile.

  He’d seen the same smile on TV while she stood next to her family. He hoped he hadn’t been relegated to the same position.

  “I thought we could both use a cup of coffee. Can I come in?”

  He stepped back and reined in his need to pull her to him and kiss her, to know she was really there, to know he hadn’t scared her off.

  “Why are you here?” he asked and immediately regretted the accusation in the question.

  Luckily, she didn’t seem bothered.

  “You said you wanted to talk and I thought I owed you that.”

  She owed him? She had no idea. This was his chance. He could tell her everything, lay out his life and her family’s involvement, and let the things fall wherever.

  He closed the door against the cold night air and Max danced between them. Fiona looked awkwardly around his empty living room as if just remembering he didn’t have any furniture. He suddenly found it funny given his occupation.

  “You want to go upstairs and talk, or would you feel better in the kitchen?”

  She weighed the question and he hoped she’d opt for the kitchen. If they went to his bedroom, they might not get around to talking. She wore those thin pants again and he was sure if he took her jacket, her nipples would greet him through an equally thin shirt. Kitchen was definitely the way to go.

  “Let’s go upstairs.”

  Shit. She turned and headed up, giving him an eyeful of swaying hips and grabbable ass. He swallowed hard and stared at his feet.

  In his room, she set the coffee on the nightstand and tossed her coat on the chair. Max returned to his pillow on the floor, ignoring them. Fiona kicked off her sneakers and grabbed a cup of coffee before settling on his bed. She crossed her legs like a little kid and cradled her cup as if stealing its warmth.

  Connor stood awkwardly, not knowing where to go or what to say. She finally looked up and he saw she wasn’t nearly as drunk as she had been earlier in the evening, which meant that after leaving Dermott’s she didn’t continue to drink. What if she was busy doing other things, like her date? A flash of anger sucker-punched him.

  “You can sit. I won’t bite.”

  He stared at the chair and tried to make his feet move in that direction, but his dick won out again and he headed for the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, tilting her body toward him. When he sat, Fiona looked at the tux hanging on the back of his door.

  The expression on her face was a cross between bewilderment and hurt. “Why didn’t you come to the wedding?” She pointed her cup at the tux. “At some point, you must’ve planned to.”

  “I was going to. But then…” He didn’t know what to say. Why had he chosen not to? Because of Brady? No, Brady had been the final push. He could use that information to drive a wedge between her and her family, but he couldn’t follow through. “I saw you on TV Tuesday and I realized we don’t belong together.”

  She pressed her lips together and continued to stare across the room. When she finally turned to face him, her eyes were glassy and pain speared his chest. “Was that when you realized I lied about my name?”

  Instinct made him want to lie, but he couldn’t. He shook his head.

  “How long did you know?”

  “From the beginning.” There. Telling the truth wasn’t so hard. Maybe he could do this.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “At first I didn’t think about it. But then I figured you probably had a good reason for lying. I thought you’d tell me when you were ready, but it never seemed to happen.” He reached for his cup of coffee to have something t
o do with his hands. If he held a cup, he wouldn’t reach for her.

  “I lied because of the election and needing to get away from being a Cavanagh. Being my father’s daughter is hard. You and I were supposed to be a one-night thing. And if the sex had sucked, that’s all it would’ve been.” She offered him a half-smile.

  “I’ll keep that in mind. When I want a one-night stand, make the sex mediocre.”

  She shifted to fully face him. “I’m not sure you have the ability.” She pushed her hair behind her shoulders. “Anyway, it started out as sex, and it was okay to be anonymous. But then I realized I enjoyed being with you. Fully clothed. Like I said on Tuesday, you offer me some normal. In an election year especially, I crave normal.”

  She reached across to put her untouched coffee back on the nightstand. The movement made her hair tickle his forearm and her scent drift to his nose. He inched back to be able to focus because he craved her.

  “Most of the time, my life is normal. I see my family on a regular basis, but I avoid the political crap. Except when I want money from them for the outreach center. It’s kind of a quid pro quo thing. My mother wants my face for something, she pays the outreach center. We both get what we want. Other than that, I’m kind of the black sheep of the family.”

  He smiled. She had no idea what a black sheep really was.

  “So I’m your non-family quid pro quo. I give you normal, you give me sex.” He’d meant it as a joke, to lighten the mood, but he should’ve known better. It sounded like another accusation and she flinched.

  He fumbled to put his coffee down and then he did reach for her. His large palms cradled her face. “I didn’t mean anything. A joke. You should know by now I’m not very funny.”

  “What are we doing here?” she whispered.

  Fuck if he had an answer. He only knew he wanted to feel her pressed up against him, her lips saying his name. In those moments, he could forget the past and who he was. Maybe they weren’t so different after all.

  He leaned closer and brought her lips to his. Their breath mingled, the air around them charged. He kissed her softly, swiping his tongue across hers. Every time they did this, she melted and became his.

 

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