She considered him for a moment, wondering if a meaningless one-night stand might be what she needed to shake herself free from the complications both Conor and Richard were bringing her. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”
He offered his arm in an old-fashioned gesture and she took it.
~
“Con, heads up,” Shay said.
He and Conor were seated in a lounge furniture grouping with twenty others, drinking and enjoying the warm Santa Ana winds. Sophie and Gavin were on Conor’s other side but Colette was once again otherwise engaged with her own work. She would be joining them later in the evening.
Conor followed Shay’s gaze and he didn’t care for what they saw. Jackson was guiding Felicity toward the bar, his hand on the bare skin of her lower back.
He hadn’t seen her all evening as the crush of the events and people took precedence. But now he could see she wore a short black sheath dress with a low back. She had her hair up but a few face framing tendrils slipped free. The four inch platform heels she wore gave her height and showcased shapely calves and thighs.
Fuck me.
“Go,” Shay told him.
“Em, yeah. I think I will.”
Every third person stopped him to congratulate him on the album but with effort, he made his way through the crowd and to the bar. Jackson and Felicity were nowhere to be found, though.
Conor slowly turned in every direction, finally spotting the two in a corner. Jackson had her backed up against the wall, his hand toying with the hair at the nape of her neck.
“There you are. Been looking for you all night, Felicity,” Conor said and the two broke apart. He felt his heartbeat quickening along with his anxiety.
“I’ve been here, CQ,” she said. “Nice performance, by the way.”
“Thanks. Listen, can I speak with you privately for a minute?”
Felicity hesitated and looked apologetically at Jackson.
“Just be a minute,” Conor told him. “It’s work stuff.”
“Be right back,” Felicity said with a smile.
Conor guided her by the arm far enough away so that their conversation couldn’t be heard.
“What is it, then? You pulled me away from a perfectly good time.”
“Jack has his head up his own arse. Don’t waste your time with him, okay?"
Felicity rolled her eyes. “Is that all?”
“My word isn't enough?”
She watched him silently.
He sighed impatiently. “He’s the fucking prick who got Gav started on cocaine.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Good. He can fuck off then.”
“No, not necessarily.”
“What do you mean?”
“He might still be all right for a shag? I mean, I don’t want to marry him, but it might be a fun ride, yeah?”
Conor shook his head. “That’s not funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
He looked at her with plaintive eyes but she was steely in response. How could he convey to her how uncomfortable he felt with the idea of her sleeping with anyone else? The fact that it might be with the sleazy Jackson Armstrong was enough to send him over the edge.
“Not him, Fee. Please, just not him.”
She softened reluctantly. With a sigh, she looked around. “Then who? Who would you give me permission to shag?”
No one but me. He realized he needed to sort himself out. Because all he wanted at the moment was to grab her by the hand and take her out of this party. To make her his and forget about everything else.
Instead, he said, “How much have you been drinking?”
She squinted up at him in annoyance. “Conor Quinn, keep in mind that you are not my father. You are not my lover. You don’t get to meddle in my personal business.”
“I’m your friend. That means I get to look after you,” he returned.
“A true friend wouldn’t deny me the chance to sleep with a film star,” she said with a grin.
“Fuck’s sake, Felicity,” he snapped. “He’s slept with Colette every chance he gets. He paws all over Sophie. I’m sick of him sniffing around the women in my life.”
“Good thing, then, that I’m not one of your women.”
She turned then and walked back toward Jackson who promptly looked away from the blonde he had been chatting up in her absence and greeted her as if they were old friends.
Conor watched with stomach knotted as Jackson slipped his fingers inside the lower opening on the back of Felicity's dress once more as they walked toward the pool.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
The flight crew was performing their final checks when Conor realized he hadn’t seen Felicity board. He had been waiting for her with a mixture of anticipation and dread. He hadn’t seen her since she and Jackson walked away the night before. Considering that Colette was staying in Los Angeles to continue her burlesque rehearsals, he was anxious to have this unfettered time with Felicity on the plane ride home despite the repugnant thought that she may have slept with Jackson.
“Hold up,” he said, raising his hand to the attendant. “We’re missing one person.”
“Felicity, you mean?” Sophie asked. She and Gavin were seated closely together on the sofa an aisle back from where
Conor sat in one of the forward-facing chairs.
“Yes, of course.”
“She’s not joining us.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s making a side trip for a day or two and will meet us back in Dublin later.”
“What kind of—”
“Are we okay to depart?” the flight attendant asked.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Conor and Sophie had answered at the same time, their contradiction eliciting a sigh from the attendant.
“Where is she going?”
“Toronto.”
Conor felt his chest tighten. “For what purpose?”
Sophie hesitated. “Maybe she should tell you.”
“For what purpose?” he asked again and the chatter from the others stopped abruptly.
“To see Richard.”
He stood up and strode toward the cabin door.
“Let me out. I need to make a call. Let me out.”
The urgency of his tone was enough to make the attendant jump into action, releasing the lock on the door and swinging it open.
Conor rushed down the stairs, pulling his phone from his pocket as he went. By the time he hit the tarmac, he’d selected Felicity’s number and pushed the call button.
“Answer, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered at the third ring.
“Yes, hello?”
He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding in.
“What’s going on, Fee? Why aren’t you here? Plane’s about to take off.”
“I decided last minute to make a quick trip before heading back. Sophie should have said,” she replied. “In fact, I’m trying to find my gate now.”
He could hear the airport noises of roller bags being dragged, overly loud cell phone calls, and children being urged along in the background. He wondered how close she might be to where the Rogue plane sat waiting for him.
“Where are you going?” he asked. His whole body felt tense as he waited for the reply.
“I got a call from Richard. He asked to see me, so—”
“So, what?” he snapped.
“What’s that tone about?”
“I don’t . . . like the idea of you seeing him.”
“Oh, come on, Con. Let’s not play that game anymore.”
“What game?”
There was a lengthy silence on the line before she spoke again. “Don’t pretend to have a claim on me.”
“It’s not that. I—”
“Are you getting married?”
“What?”
“You have a date, right? In, what? Three weeks?”
“Just what I thought. Don’t worry about me. You have plenty to keep yourself occupied with the wedding, don’t you?”
“Listen, I just don’t want you to get hurt by him all over again.”
“Is that all you care about?” she asked and he was quiet. “That he will hurt me?”
Taking a deep breath, he paced three steps back and forth as his mind raced. What could he tell her? How could he explain himself to her when he couldn’t even articulate his thought process to himself? But it wasn’t about rational thought, he knew. It was about the heart.
“My flight is being called. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Just—don’t go, Fee.” It was the best declaration of what he wanted that he could manage.
“I know how to take care of myself, okay?”
He nodded but felt hollowed out. It felt like the end of something that hadn’t ever had the chance to get started.
“Do me a favor?” he asked quickly before she could hang up.
“I really have to go.”
“Do me the favor of calling me later. So I know you’re all right.”
“Sure, CQ. Have a safe trip yourself.”
He was left holding a dead line. He looked at the blank screen and then moved to throw it to the ground but stopped himself from letting it loose from his grip. Instead, he turned and took the stairs two at a time as he got back on the plane.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Conor was distracted by the heavy clouds sitting over the bay as he drove the car up to the gate of his house. Rain hadn’t spilled yet but it would soon enough. He absently pressed the remote control to open the gate and then glanced up to find Sophie watching him.
She wore skinny jeans with brown riding boots and a slouchy cream colored cashmere sweater that slipped off one shoulder by design. Her blonde hair fell down her back in loose waves. Standing there, framed against the stacked stone wall near the gate and radiating a glow at odds with the dark skies, she could have been posing for a magazine cover.
Over the years he had seen her in her good times and in bad times, both conditions invariably tied to her relationship with Gavin. Now was definitely one of her good times.
He gestured for her to come to the car and unlocked the passenger door.
“Hi,” she said brightly as she got in.
“What’s going on? What are you doing here?”
“Can’t I drop in on a neighbor?” She smiled.
He raised his eyebrows but remained silent as he slipped the Aston Martin into gear and drove up the pathway to the house.
They got out together and she followed him to the double front glass doors and inside.
“What can I get you? I think I have a good white if you’re in the mood.”
She sat at one of the stainless steel bar stools at the polished cement island in the kitchen. “Sure, that would be good.”
He opened the wine refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of white Bordeaux. “Go ahead and tell me what you’re doing here at any time. I’m listening,” he said as he twisted a corkscrew into the top of the bottle.
“Would you rather I leave?”
He ignored her playful tone as he gave a generous pour to two glasses, pushing one toward her. “Does Gavin know you’re here?”
“He does.”
Gently knocking his glass against hers, he then took a large swallow as he seated himself to her left. The wine was complex, layered. He almost laughed at how this seemed to mirror his relationship with Sophie.
After another drink, he examined her. Her hazel eyes were leveled on him in return, in that attentive way of hers. She had the ability to make the object of her focus feel truly seen. And he had spent years chasing that feeling. He was still attracted to that. To her. But it was no longer in the all-encompassing way that it had been. Now, he could look at her and simply appreciate her beauty without it tempting him to make disastrous decisions.
“I told him I wanted to talk to you. I can’t stay long, though. I don’t want him to worry.”
He inclined his head a bit to acknowledge the point she was making. “So, what can I help you with?”
She picked up her glass but then put it back down hastily. She splayed her hands on the surface of the island, examining her fingers as she contemplated what she would say next.
“Why did you tell Colette about us?” she finally asked.
He let the question sink in, trying to decipher where she was going with this. He decided to push back. “Why did you tell Gavin?”
“You know why. I was pregnant and desperate to really repair my marriage, so when he asked if there had been anyone else I couldn’t justify keeping the truth from him,” she said. “But you didn’t have to tell her.”
“It seemed like the right thing to do, to start clean. I thought she deserved the truth.”
She watched him without saying anything for a long time.
He threw up his hands. “What?”
“It’s just a bad way to start up a relationship again. Confess if you want to save something, but keep it to yourself if you’re starting fresh.”
“And what? You think I told her to sabotage it from the start?” He took another large swallow of wine, this time without tasting it.
Again, she was quiet.
“You have an annoying habit of answering questions with silence.”
“Conor, you’re with the wrong person. You know that in your heart, right? Colette isn’t for you.”
“Jealous, honey?” It was hard not to fall back on the instinct to toy with her. He had gotten such a thrill out of playing with her years back when she and Gavin were first reunited. It had amused him to see her squirm under the heat of his attention. But the times when she challenged him right back had been an even bigger turn-on. Then, he stopped playing with her and started loving her.
“Stop,” she said and touched his forearm. “Listen to me. You can’t marry her because you feel an obligation.”
“It’s more than that. I love her.”
“That’s not the kind of love you deserve—and you know it.”
“Don’t you tell me—”
“I know you don’t want to hear it from me. I know. But, please believe me when I tell you this is coming from a good place.” She touched her chest for emphasis. “I still love you, Connie. I want you to be happy.”
He met her eyes for a long moment, his heart twitching at not so old memories and feelings for her. And then the feeling eased into what they had now, a bond formed from an understanding of what they could have had together under different circumstances.
“I appreciate that, I do. But . . . .”
“What about Felicity?”
“What about her?”
She watched him for a beat. “She’s amazing, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know what you’re on about, but I’m not interested,” he said and stood up.
“I think you love her.”
“Sophie, enough. This isn’t your place.”
“Aren’t we friends?” She stood up with him now. “I can’t have gone through everything with you and not come out with a real friendship.”
He saw tears in her eyes but was unmoved. “What is this?”
She looked away from him and out at the rain coming down in fat drops outside his glass doors. It had gotten dark without them noticing.
“I guess I can’t expect us to have the same connection as before,” she said softly.
Of course they couldn’t be as close as they had been. They had spent too much time carrying on an emotional intimacy that wasn’t fair to anyone. He knew that now. But he also understood her desire to retain that closeness. There had to be some middle-ground.
Taking a deep breath, he put his arm around her shoulders. “Honey, you’re the sweetest person I know. And I do appreciate you wanting to look after me. But you have to let me figure it out.”
She rested her head on his shoulder a
nd they stood quietly together for several minutes. “I should have known better than to walk,” she said with a small laugh.
“I’ll take you home.”
~
Rather than take the more direct route of Sorrento Road, Conor made his way down to Coliemore Road where the view of the stormy sea and Dalkey Island on their left was broken up occasionally by the gated or walled houses of their wealthy neighbors. The heavy tap of rain on the windshield halted briefly as they drove under a canopy of trees and then the rhythmic sound resumed as they wound their way on the right-turning road. Conor slowed the car and pulled over onto the shoulder, buying some time before getting to Sophie’s house. He put the car into park and turned in his seat to face her.
“Listen,” he said, “thanks very much for being my friend. I know it’s been tricky with us.”
Sophie smiled in silent agreement. The rain splattered against the windshield and their combined body heat fogged up the glass.
“Just so you know, I still love you too. I always will.” He took a deep breath. “But I’m also happy to say that I have let you go.”
She watched him for a moment before saying, “I know you have.”
“And I have to say, it’s a relief.”
“Let me ask you something,” she said. “Do you love Colette the way you loved me?”
“It’s different, Sophie. You can’t say you loved me the same as you love Gavin, can you?”
“No, there were differences because of who you are. But the base feeling of wanting that person’s happiness above all else was there. Of wanting to be the one to make that person happy.”
“Of course I want her happiness.”
“And you want to be the person to make her happy?”
“Ideally.” He answered this quickly, as a reflex. The old habit he had established of saying what he knew he should in regard to matters of his heart was hard to change, even with Sophie.
Sophie nodded. “Okay, then. Maybe I’ve got it all wrong. I’m sorry if I overstepped. I could have sworn you and Felicity were the better match.”
“Circumstances and timing are not my friends,” he said wryly.
“If you’re saying the only thing keeping you from being with Felicity is bad timing, then you’d better wake up and do something about it.”
Playing At Love: A Rogue Series Novel Page 26
