Absentmindedly, Meg unbuttoned her black wool coat and handed it over, the entire time trying to muster up some lame excuse as to why she was standing on Betsy’s front porch uninvited.
But the question never came. Instead, Betsy walked her through the house as if she were the guest of honor and introduced her to the social security collecting crowd. She didn’t recognize any of the faces, but some names sounded familiar, grandparents and aunts and uncles to the students in her school. She now understood why Connor didn’t regularly attend his mother’s neighborhood parties. So why did he bring her?
“I don’t believe you’ve met my boys. This is Mason.” She smiled proudly at a young dark-haired, dark-eyed gorgeous man. “And this is Cole.” She patted the cheek of her other son. The spitting image of his brother.
The first, Mason, smiled politely and said a brief, “Nice to meet you,” before turning away, while Cole, the obviously outgoing brother, draped his arm around her shoulders and flirted with her.
“Why Ma, where you been hiding this one?” He turned to Meg and said, “I was so enchanted by your beauty that I ran into that wall over there. So I’ll need your name and number for insurance purposes.”
Betsy laughed and left them to mingle with her guests. For some odd reason, Meg didn’t feel threatened by Connor’s brother. He was younger, much younger than her and a harmless flirt.
“You’re in the rental house on Magnolia?” he asked around a mouthful of mini-quiche.
“Yes, it’s a very lovely home.”
“You call me if you need anything. Forget about those other two lug nuts, Mason can’t tell the difference between a screwdriver and a wrench, and Connor’s too busy pumping iron and tossing footballs to fix a leaky faucet. I’m your go-to guy.” He winked and popped another quiche.
He offered her punch and stuffed mushrooms and poked fun of Mason, his older brother, by three minutes, and made her laugh. She enjoyed being the center of his attention. Not that it said much, his other options had false teeth and were wearing depends, but she had appreciated his hospitality.
“Ma talks about you a lot. You and your sister, Emma.”
“Daughter.”
“Shh!” He put his index finger on her lips. “Don’t ruin this for me. I much prefer the fantasy of you and your younger sister spending a lot of time around here—ˮ
“Rather than her mother,” she teased.
A cup of potent eggnog, a glass of wine and two cookies later, Connor sauntered through the front door. She didn’t notice him at first. Even with her back to him, she felt his presence, the sudden storm of testosterone in the atmosphere. Meg turned when Cole stopped his story midsentence and watched the intimate showdown.
Cole grinned at his older brother, instantly picked up on the jealous, bitter glare and milked it even more. His arm went around her waist and he led her out of the living room and into the private front parlor. Unsure if the display was meant to provoke or tease, Meg went reluctantly with him.
Victorian angels and Santa figurines filled every surface of the room. She strolled to a delicate china nativity set and said, “Your mother has beautiful collectibles, doesn’t she?”
“As does my brother,” he mumbled.
Ignoring the statement she studied a family photo most likely taken ten years ago. The resemblance was there, but the three boys and Annie each had their own strong features. Annie’s large smiling mouth and Connor’s blue eyes mirrored their mother’s while the twins, whom she could not tell apart in the photograph, had their father’s dark eyes and hair. The family appeared to be happy and close. It’s what she always wanted to give Emma. They may not have a family photo with lots of siblings, but they were definitely happy together. A strong mother-daughter relationship was all she could give her daughter, and most of the time she felt like it was enough, but she knew Emma would have rather grown up in a large family bristling with sibling rivalry and playmates. Since she was a toddler, Emma thrived in social settings, the exact opposite as her. More like…well not like her.
“Hey old man,” Cole said. She jumped and turned around, but he kept his hand around her waist. “Have you met my new lady? This is—”
“Meg. Yeah, we’ve met.” He kept his death glare glued to his brother while leaning against the door jam.
“Oh, yeah, forgot she’s like your boss, right?” The amusement in Cole’s voice made Meg grin, she couldn’t help it. Connor’s jealousy of his younger brother, evident in his rigid stance, was so ridiculous she had to smile.
“Your brother has been showing me around.”
“I’ll bet,” Connor muttered, still not removing his gaze from Cole’s.
Cole either hadn’t noticed or enjoyed taunting his brother too much to care. “Care to join us, old man? We were just about to grab another glass of Ma’s eggnog.”
“Oh, I don’t think I can handle another glass,” Meg said.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I can drive you home.” Cole winked.
“I didn’t drive…ˮ she stopped herself realizing her blunder.
“Hmm. How did you get here then…sweetheart?” Connor mocked.
He turned his gaze to her for the first time since entering the room, and she bit her lip and glared at him. The evil eye used to work on her students, but it only amused Connor.
Cole took the hint that the fun and games were over and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m going to make myself another drink and grab a handful of shrimp. You holler for me if the beast bothers you.”
Connor took up much of the space in the doorway and didn’t move an inch, forcing his brother to squeeze past his massive shoulders.
Once Cole left, Connor’s stance loosened. He put his hands in his pockets, as if unsure what to do with himself. Meg looked nervously around the room and toyed with her sweater.
“So what’s your cover?”
“My cover?”
“You do that a lot.”
“Do what a lot?”
“Repeat what I say.”
She paced in front of a Queen Anne style chair then sat. “Well, half the time I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He followed her lead and sat in the matching chair across from her. “Uh, huh. So what did you tell my mom?”
“She didn’t ask.”
Connor leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. She didn’t have time to thoroughly examine him when he picked her up from her house. Too anxious, she tossed on her coat and evaded any intrusive, embarrassing questions from her grandparents. Connor’s thin navy sweater pulled tight against his wide upper body, not doing much to hide his corded muscles. Superman. He had superman’s body, and she felt like Lois Lane; although, she didn’t need rescuing at this very moment. Or maybe she did, and he was the only one who knew it.
At times, he mirrored Clark Kent. Nervous. Normal. Easy to talk to. And then other times he was huge. Filling the room with his muscular body, strength, and power. He may be dressed like Kent, but underneath the sweater and rear-hugging jeans—she did notice those earlier—stood a man of steel. His icy blue stare sent chills up her spine, but she didn’t look away. Too mesmerized and too busy studying his features, she didn’t notice the quick intake of his breath until he jumped up and grabbed her hand.
“Come on. We’re outta here.”
His warm, calloused hand enveloped her long, dainty fingers and she didn’t let go. They rushed out the back door without anyone noticing them. The ten-minute ride passed by too quickly and quietly sans the loud thumping of her heart. Was he mad at her? She hadn’t been fair to him and she knew it, but she didn’t know how to make it right. Her heart and her head were telling her two different things.
The truck idled, and the silence grew thicker when he turned off the engine. Connor kept his hands on the wheel and stared out the windshield into the still night. The front porch light and the white candles in the front windows cast shadows across his chiseled face.
“I can’t get a read on you
.” His voice was soft but didn’t hide the hard edge to it.
“Sorry.”
He laughed, not with humor, not with disgust, but with frustration. “I can’t get a read on your ‘sorry’ either.”
“Sorry,” this time she laughed. “I’m no good at this, McKay.”
“This?” He turned to her and moved his hands from the steering wheel to her hair. The gentle stroking felt so right. She closed her eyes and rested her head in his hand, savoring the touch. “Sometimes you send off these vibes, like right now, that you’re…interested.”
Meg opened her eyes and pulled away.
“And then you act totally freaked out.” He got out of the truck and before he made his way to her side, she hopped down and hurried toward the house, Connor following close behind.
“I’ll back off, Meg. Unless you tell me otherwise.”
They stood on the front porch, he with his hands in his coat pockets, she with her arms nervously wrapped around her waist. Conflicting thoughts filled her mind. She liked the honest, caring, funny, and incredibly handsome man. But she had just as many lingering doubts. She was his boss. And he was an athlete. He had the confidence and strength that could crush her, physically and emotionally. Only she couldn’t picture him using his power for anything less than honorable. All her life Meg followed the rules, sometimes at the expense of her own happiness. Never feeling in charge of her own destiny.
The time had come. She had the power. It was exactly what she needed, to be in charge of the final outcome. All she needed was a sign. Taking another cleansing breath, she tilted her head up toward the roof to the farmer’s porch and smiled. The Sign.
Unwrapping her arms from her waist, she stepped closer to Connor, put her hands on his shoulders, took a deep cleansing breath, and kissed him. At first he didn’t respond. His hands stayed in his pockets, his lips firmly closed, but when she moved her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to him, he kissed her back. And not tentatively.
“Meg,” he murmured into her mouth.
He pulled her close and caressed her shoulders, her hair, her head. Fire roared through her veins, down her legs. Instead of turning wobbly, they burned. The image of jumping up and wrapping her legs around his waist was all too vivid, but instead she melted, her body folding into his.
Connor broke the kiss. Again. She snuggled her face into the warmth of his neck and took comfort in his embrace. This is nice. He wasn’t like his stereotype. He didn’t set her up to be embarrassed. He didn’t use her for something other than her company. And she truly believed he enjoyed being with her.
Embarrassed with her display of affection, she reluctantly pulled away and straightened her coat and ran her hand through her once perfectly tame hair.
“I guess you’re telling me otherwise?” His fishhook grin nearly knocked her on her behind. God, he was beautiful.
“Looks that way.”
“And what, I’m almost afraid to ask, changed your mind?”
She pointed to the mistletoe hanging over their heads. Mistletoe that was not hanging when she left earlier in the evening. Apparently, the matchmaking virus had made its way down Magnolia Lane as well.
“Whatever it takes,” he chuckled and toyed with the ends of her hair.
“Thanks for tonight. I had fun.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult. You spent most of the evening with my obnoxious little brother and only a ten minute car ride with me.” He stroked her cheek with his knuckles and gazed hungrily at her mouth.
“I always enjoy myself with your family, Connor. But I’d say the end of our date is my highlight,” she added shyly.
They kissed again, briefly, and said good-night. He whistled as he strolled back to his truck, and Meg grinned like a schoolgirl on her first date. She let herself in and closed the door behind her, skipping up the steps to her bedroom, thankful the rest of the house was asleep. She wanted to keep the magic to herself just a little bit longer.
Chapter 10
Damned if he would act like a mature adult and not call her as soon as the sun hit the horizon. Connor reached for his bedside phone but quickly put it down when he noticed it was only six in the morning. He had one hell of a night tossing and turning. The woman infested his dreams, took over his body until he woke up hot, sweaty and ready to…well, ready. But he woke up alone and couldn’t go back asleep.
While Meg had a way of driving him crazy, he constantly went back for more. One of these days she’d cave and give into the charm that worked on every other breathing female he came in contact with. But hell, it took her long enough. And even though she caved last night and kissed him, a part of his gut told him it was only because she had a few drinks and because they were standing under mistletoe.
The comment she made earlier in the night when they first arrived at his folks’ place really irked him. I don’t want the gossip. Was it because of their teacher-principal roles? The issue had never come up before, but he knew it wasn’t a conflict of interest. When you live in a small community, family tended to work together. Part of him wondered if she didn’t find him good enough because of his accident, but he quickly shoved the thought aside. No, she couldn’t be anything like his ex-wife. That’s what always pissed him off about other women. They used him for his money or NFL status, a notch in their belt. Being a teacher slowed down the action he saw in his bedroom, but it also opened his eyes to what he really wanted.
Meg.
A private lady. He could respect that. Sort of. Then it struck him. Being new in town and the head honcho at school, the last thing she needed were teachers and students talking about her dating Mr. McKay, the notorious ladies’ man. Yeah, he was bad for her reputation; she was probably bad for him too. But damn if he didn’t like being bad.
* * * *
“Did you do something different with your hair?” Barbara stood in the office doorway, staring down at Meg.
“Hmm? What? Oh, um, no. I just…I, I, I haven’t done anything different.” Meg quickly closed her laptop, sat up straight, and rolled her shoulders back, attempting to appear all business-like and trying so hard to wipe the love-struck smile off her face. If Connor kept sending her cute e-mails all day, she’d never get her work done.
“You’ve been different this week. New boyfriend?” Barbara wasn’t one to beat around the bush, and while she respected Meg as a principal, she definitely crossed some personal boundaries. “I’m sorry, Meg. I shouldn’t be so nosey, but you are especially cheerful these days. Maybe it’s the holiday spirit.” She placed a stack of mail in Meg’s inbox and went back to her desk.
Biting her lip, she quickly opened up her laptop to read Connor’s e-mail again.
Friday night. Dinner. My house 7:00
Bring Emma. Or come alone.
C
Okay, not the most romantic note, but it turned her to mush. And it was sweet to invite Emma along in case she felt uncomfortable. Meg glanced at her empty doorway and hit “reply.”
Dinner for two sounds perfect.
After hitting “send,” she quit out of her e-mail account and picked up the mail Barbara had brought in, but didn’t get too far before a dark, looming figure appeared in her doorway.
“Knock, knock.”
His voice brought chills up her spine. Months ago, she believed the chills came from dislike, but today that wasn’t the case. “Hello, Mr. McKay. What can I do for you?” The heat in his eyes told her exactly what he wanted, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about being aroused at work. Thrilled, scared, all of the above?
“Have a minute?” He stepped into her small office, overpowering it with his body and closed the door behind him. Meg stayed in her office chair and looked up at him.
“I think I can squeeze you in.”
Connor wrapped his large hands around her forearms, pulled her up from her chair, tucked her into his arms, and then kissed her roughly on the lips. “If you keep talking to me like that at work, you’re goi
ng to get yourself in a lot of trouble,” he murmured into her lips. And as quickly as he pulled her into his arms, he set her back into her chair and tossed a piece of paper down on her desk. The door closed behind him before she could even register what had happened.
She picked up the note and read the directions to his house. Meg smiled, folded the note, and then put it into her purse as her heart raced with anticipation.
Keeping her date, much less her new glow, a secret from Emma would be excruciatingly difficult. While Emma worked at the school during a home basketball game, Meg called Tracy.
“Hey, gorgeous. I haven’t heard from you in ages!”
“Hi, Trace. How’s the Christmas rush?”
“Oh, God. I have Stepford wives up the kazoo. They’re all trying to cover up the five pounds they gained since Thanksgiving, yet are refusing to go up to a size two. Seriously. How’s life in small town America? How’s that prick you work with?”
Yikes. She didn’t realize it had been so long since she talked with Tracy. “Uh, a lot better. I actually don’t mind him so much anymore.”
“He and his jock friends chasing around monkey skin and leaving you alone?”
“I believe it’s pigskin and yeah, he’s not bothering me anymore.”
“So now you’re down with football lingo? You okay?”
Meg skipped to her bureau and smiled back at her reflection. “Yeah, I’m okay. Great actually. I met a guy.”
“Holy shmokes, girlfriend! You gotta warn me before you lay something like this on me! This is huge!”
Laughing and shaking with nerves, she sat at the edge of her bed and sighed. “Trace, it’s him. Connor.”
“The arrogant bastard?”
“Yeah. But the arrogant bastard is actually very sweet.”
“Honey.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t simply fall for him overnight. You’re crushing on a guy. A football guy, nonetheless, and are just now telling me about it? Sorry. I won’t make you feel guilty about leaving your best friend out of the loop. But you don’t sound giggly and happy like a girl is supposed to. What’s wrong? He’s not…”
False Start (The McKay-Tucker Men Series Book 1) Page 10
