Connor understood, but a small part of him hoped Aiden wasn’t in her life regularly. She kissed his neck, in the spot that drove his crazy, and all of his focus turned to not crashing the truck. She inched away.
“How about dinner?” she asked.
“I was thinking we’d go straight for dessert.”
“What kind of girl do you think I am? You should ply me with food and drink before you get in my pants.”
Her joke lightened the mood of the truck, and the tension left him along with thoughts of Aiden. “I think I see a drive-thru up ahead. You want a Happy Meal?”
Chapter 11
The following morning, Fiona pushed through the coffee shop door to see Aiden already waiting. Not surprising since he’d always been a morning person. She shoved her gloves into her coat pocket and hung her coat on the rack in the corner.
“What’s up? This is an early start for you.”
“I had a great weekend.”
He sipped his coffee, but she just wrapped her hands around her cup to warm herself.
“What did you want to meet for?” he prompted.
“I wanted to tell you—so you can pass the word onto Mom and Dad—Connor and I are officially a couple.” She raised a hand before he had a chance to argue. “I know you don’t like him and I know why.”
He bobbled his cup. A look of guilt stole across his face. It had been so long since she’d seen such an expression on him that she’d almost missed it. She reached across the table and placed her hand over his. “He doesn’t do that anymore. He told me about his past. He spent time in prison, and when he got out his options for work were limited.”
Aiden looked confused. “What are you saying?”
“He doesn’t beat people up for money anymore. He builds furniture. It’s beautiful furniture too.”
Aiden’s hand steadied beneath hers.
“I can understand why you wouldn’t like him. Who would befriend some guy who beat the crap out of him? But you got yourself into the mess. And while a horrible job, it was Connor’s job. Nothing more. I wouldn’t go so far to say you had it coming, but it’s not like you were some stellar citizen back then.”
He slid his hand away from hers. “I’m very aware of the person I was. I’ve changed.”
“So has Connor. I wish you could see that. He’s kind and gentle and protective. You’ve been able to experience a clean slate because the Cavanagh name bought you forgiveness for your transgressions.”
She stared into her brother’s eyes, but couldn’t read them. He was almost as good as Connor at masking his emotion. “All I’m asking is for you to give Connor a chance. I don’t expect you to be friends, but like I told him, you need to find a way to accept you’re both part of my life.”
Aiden shook his head. “I don’t know if I can, Fi. And what about Mom and Dad? Do you think they’ll ever be okay with this?”
She straightened in her seat. “You know what? I don’t care. I love him, Aiden. If you can’t accept that, then you’ll have to accept losing me.”
“I don’t understand what you expect from me.”
“I want you to keep an open mind. Mom and Dad fixed your life. They taught you it was okay to skirt the law without consequence. How does that make you, or them, better than a man like Connor who served his time and still managed to make a decent life for himself?”
Aiden swallowed hard. “You’re right. But I don’t know if I can look at him and not think about the past.”
“Well, you have about a week to figure it out. I’m bringing him to Thanksgiving dinner. If Mom and Dad have a problem with it, tell them to shoot me a text, and we won’t come. Make sure they understand that if they lock Connor out, I’ll be with him.”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything. He stared into his cup of coffee. She stood and patted Aiden’s shoulder before gathering her things to leave. She’d given him plenty to think about. For the first time, she felt lighter after dealing with a member of her family.
She didn’t know what she’d expected, but she felt sure and strong while talking to him. Then again, Aiden had never been the source of conflict in her life. She couldn’t wait to tell Connor. She hoped he wouldn’t say no. She wanted him to come to Thanksgiving dinner even though it was a family thing and they’d spend it with her family.
She’d spent the remainder of the day working on jewelry for her online shop. By the time the sky darkened outside, she’d finished three sets of earrings and two necklaces. It had been a productive day even though thoughts of Connor kept distracting her.
Her bell rang, stopping more images of Connor. She asked into the call box, “Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
Connor. She hadn’t expected him since they hadn’t made plans. She buzzed him up and waited by her door. When the elevator slid open, all she saw was his head poking above the cabinet he held. “What is that?”
He moved past her into her condo and straight for her workroom. “Hold on. This is heavy.”
She followed him and he set the thing on her table near the window.
He wiped his hands on his jeans. “After I watched you work, I noticed you didn’t have any storage for your supplies, so I made you cabinet.”
He turned and drew open drawers. “I think this’ll be enough room for your pieces of china and chains and whatever else you have.”
She was speechless. He’d made her a piece of furniture to help organize her junk. It was a beautiful cabinet, bare wood with pretty little mismatched handles on the drawers.
“I figured you’d want to paint it. Make it your own.”
Fiona continued to stare at the cabinet, but she felt him shift uncomfortably. Connor was nervous? She ran her fingers over the smooth wood and looked into the empty drawers. “Wow.” She had no better word.
His mention of paint made her remember her idea to paint the other night. The feeling she wanted to capture while lying in Connor’s arms. Her heart swelled and she knew she’d be up all night painting. As soon as she dug out her paints and found a canvas.
She turned and jumped into his arms. “Thank you. It’s awesome.”
His chest fell in a heavy exhale. He had been nervous.
“Were you actually worried I wouldn’t like it?” She pulled back from him embrace.
“No. It’s a piece of furniture. If you didn’t like it, I could sell it somewhere.” He rubbed a hand over his head. “I didn’t want you to think I was telling you what to do with your space.” He glanced around the room and the perpetual mess scattered around. “I could never work like this, but you seem to like it. I didn’t want you to think I made you a cabinet because you—”
“I get it.” He didn’t want to be like her parents who told her what to do. “You wanted to be helpful. I love the cabinet, but the mess will still be here. Having drawers to slide some of it into means I’ll be able to find what I need a little faster. Hopefully. Plus, it’ll save space for more stuff.”
She moved back to the cabinet and started to think about how to decorate it. Simple paint wouldn’t do. This needed something more. Maybe decoupage.
Connor hadn’t said anything, but she’d felt him get closer. His hands ran down her back from her shoulders to her hips. He leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck. “I love seeing you in this room. So intent. Focused. Hot.” He nipped at her neck again. “Want to go out and grab some dinner?”
She tore her eyes from the cabinet as her mind raced to find the right images to plaster to it. “Sure. What’d you have in mind?”
He stepped back and grabbed her hand. “You pick. Someplace with beer. I’ve had a crazy day.”
They walked into her living room and she caught sight of herself in the mirror above the couch. She was a mess. “Wait.” She pulled her hand back. “Let me go change and fix myself.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “You look fine.” He tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “Better than fine.”
In the back of her head, whisperin
g quietly, she heard her mother’s voice. Can’t you put in some effort, Fiona? People will stare.
But then she saw the heat in Connor’s eyes and she knew she didn’t care who stared as long as he was one of them. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She grabbed her purse and followed him out the door. Things had changed between them. The sharing of secrets opened them up and she hoped they didn’t lose that. Being with Connor made her feel good.
* * *
Connor drove to the restaurant Fiona had picked. He hadn’t asked about a dress code, but since she’d seen him walk in wearing jeans and a T-shirt, he figured he was safe. Hopefully they wouldn’t have more than one fork on the table. He wasn’t in the mood to have to think.
“Tell me about your day.”
“A whiny customer. No big deal. Just tense.” He’d been tense all day, worried about his confession to Fiona, terrified of her brother scaring her from his arms. The customer bitched about him fucking up a door. He was at fault because he’d been distracted.
So when he left the job site, he had to see Fiona. He used the cabinet as an excuse. The moment he looked into her eyes from across the hall, he felt settled. Calm stole through his body and he wanted to hold onto it forever.
They got to the restaurant, sat, and ordered. It was a family restaurant, but quiet. They tucked into a booth and shared some bread before their meals arrived.
“I saw Aiden this morning.”
The sentence held no surprise, yet he choked on the bread. He gulped water to clear his throat.
She waited for him to breathe normally and look at her. “It was great.” Her face brightened. “I told him about us, about you telling me about your past.”
Aiden probably had a near-heart attack. Letting the secret slip would crush Aiden’s carefully constructed life.
“I told him we’re a couple and he needed to accept it.”
“How did that go over?” He crumbled the rest of the crust lying in front of him while picturing Aiden’s outrage over how his sister could pick such a loser.
Fiona reached across the table and held his hand. “I went to Aiden instead of my parents for a couple of reasons. First, he’ll at least listen to me. Second, if anyone can understand about changing and second chances, it’s Aiden. That’s what I told him.”
“What?”
“I told him he had to give you a chance and he needed to pass the message on to my parents. I want you to come to Thanksgiving dinner with me.”
His stomach lurched. He couldn’t pretend the Cavanaghs didn’t exist if they were face to face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“It’s the best idea. I need my family to understand that you’re not going anywhere. If they don’t like it, too bad. If you’re not welcome, I won’t be going.”
He watched as her face became fierce. She was so open and honest; it hurt to look at her. She was willing to walk away from her family to be with him. For a brief moment, he imagined a life where he and Fiona were together without a single thought spared for the Cavanaghs.
But they were her family. It wouldn’t be fair to make her choose. “I don’t want to come between you and your family.”
“It wouldn’t be your fault. It’s up to them. It’s about time I stood on my own and made them, specifically my mother, realize I’m not a little girl anymore and I get to make my own choices.” Her thumb stroked over his rough knuckles. “I choose you.”
His heart stopped. It was the only explanation for the feeling of lightheadedness he experienced. Fiona’s bright blue eyes focused on him and although she hadn’t said the words, he knew what she meant. She chose him because she loved him.
Fuck.
He stood abruptly. “Excuse me.”
She jerked back. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, just going to the bathroom.” He wandered the restaurant in search of the bathroom.
She loved him.
The knowledge clanged around in his head as a vice gripped his heart. She shouldn’t love him. She had no idea who he really was.
But she believed she did.
He found the bar before he found the bathroom. He ordered a shot of whiskey and downed it quickly. The burn stung his throat and warmed his belly. The smooth sensation calmed his nerves. He wanted to believe he misread the signals. It wasn’t like he’d had any experience with a woman falling in love with him. He closed his eyes and Fiona’s face came to him.
In his mind, he saw it in her eyes. They didn’t hide anything. Even when she tried, she did a horrible job. What else could it be?
Connor pushed off the bar and walked to the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and returned his breathing to normal.
Normal? How would anything be normal again?
He stared at himself in the mirror and smiled. Fiona loved him.
* * *
Fiona sat at the table and fiddled with the napkin on her lap. She’d screwed up. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew she had. How much worse would his reaction have been if she blurted out the words that scrambled on her tongue?
I love you.
She wanted to say it. The need burned in her every time she touched him and he looked at her. But she knew it was too early. And now she spooked him with a Thanksgiving dinner invitation. She’d play it off like it was no big deal.
That’s what Connor would need. He had a week to get used to the concept. She had a week to convince him it wasn’t a horrible idea. What better way for her family to see that he was a good guy? If they saw them together, they’d be able to accept the relationship.
She looked over her shoulder, wondering where Connor had gone.
Sipping from her wine, she tried to develop her response for when he returned. A joke, a light comment. But what?
“Hey,” his rough voice sounded at her ear as he leaned over and kissed the top of her head. His hand toyed with her hair.
She turned to face him and his kiss moved to her mouth. She tasted the bite of whiskey, and briefly wondered where it had come from, but it didn’t matter. They didn’t need words, not when a kiss put them on the same page. Whatever tension or uncertainty existed before disappeared.
He pulled away and reclaimed his seat across from her.
She stared at him, but before either could speak, the waitress arrived with their food. They mumbled a thank you, but didn’t look at the server or the food. Just each other.
Then Connor smiled his oh-so-rare full-on smile, and she couldn’t help but return it. “So, Thanksgiving. Should I have held on to the tux?”
“We’re not formal, but my mom might have a coronary if you show up in your jeans and work boots.”
With a nod, Connor turned his attention to the plate in front of him and attacked it. She didn’t need to discuss her invitation. The moment had passed and Connor was dealing with it the way he needed to.
She wished she could have a moment, a brief glimpse into how he felt about it. He cared for her, desired her, but she felt like they had more. Or at least could have more. But Connor wasn’t a sharer. And she didn’t know how much longer she could tamp down her need to tell him. She knew she blurted out her feelings. Often.
Plenty of men in her past were annoyed by it. Some even broke up with her over it. She fell in love hard and fast. It was who she was, and she didn’t regret it. Love made life worth living.
Being with Connor was different. Somehow, if he walked away because he wasn’t ready for her love, or he didn’t feel the same, she wasn’t sure she could handle it. With him, she felt like she stood on the edge of a cliff. As much as she wanted to jump and feel the sheer joy of the fall, she wanted to cling to the edge, where he would keep her safe. She wasn’t used to playing it safe.
“Something wrong with the food?”
Fiona blinked. She hadn’t touched her food because her thoughts had taken over. She blinked again and smiled. “No, everything’s good.”
* * *
After dropping
Fiona off at home, Connor went to Dermott’s as much for another drink as for conversation with his friend. Dermott was the only confidante he had since prison. Before that, Aiden had held the spot. Now he couldn’t think about Aiden without being assaulted with images of Fiona.
Surprisingly, though, he’d been able to think of her without thinking of Aiden.
He sat at the bar and waited for Dermott to be free. A good-sized crowd filled the bar, but not enough to warrant having an extra bartender on duty. Dermott poured him a Guinness without asking and Connor nodded his thanks.
With the first sip, he knew it wouldn’t be a strong enough. “Get me a shot,” he called out.
Dermott poured and leaned against the bar when he delivered it. “What’s the problem?”
“What isn’t?”
Dermott poured himself water and waited.
“Fiona’s in love with me.”
“Did she tell you that?”
Connor shook his head. “Didn’t need to.”
“That ought to be worth some leverage, huh? To get information on her daddy.”
He slugged back the shot and chased it with a drink of beer. “Thing is, I don’t want the leverage anymore. She’s not like the rest of them.”
“You sure? They’re a wily bunch.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” He turned the glass of beer in his hand. “What do I do?”
“If she’s clean, then leave her be. Find some other way to make your story happen.”
Story. He hadn’t thought about his book. Even when he poked around Fiona’s condo looking for information, or scrolled through stories on the Internet, it felt half-hearted. He’d expended so much energy to keep his secrets, there’d been little left for writing.
“You can’t give up. The Cavanaghs should be exposed for the shit they do. For what they’ve always done. They act like they’re better than everyone.”
Connor’s stomach tumbled. He didn’t want to disappoint Dermott, but the book wasn’t going to happen. He was finally ready to move on. Dermott just wasn’t aware yet. He turned his glass in a slow circle. “No one can touch the Cavanaghs. If I’ve learned nothing else over the years, it’s that.”
Between Love and Loyalty Page 16
