Always Conall (Bitterroot #2)

by Sibylla Matilde

  Conall tried to reject this, though, saying I hadn’t yet received any of that income yet. That we should be going on the last few months. And, besides, what about the past five years when I was making shit wages? He dug in his heels and refused to accept that I didn’t need compensation for that.

  And so, while things seemed to be working on the outside, there was still a certain amount of consternation.

  When the three of us were together, things seemed easier. It was simple to relax and forget how up in the air everything was when Mattie was curled up in Conall’s lap watching a My Little Pony movie. (I had to give it to the guy, he never once complained about her choices of entertainment.) When we were all sitting at the table for dinner, which we did a couple times a week, it was easy to pretend that the looming disquiet of uncertainty did not exist.

  Or like now, as I prepared a roasted chicken for dinner tonight. In addition to inviting Brynn and Kian, Conall was coming from the ranch, which had Mattie thrilled. Wanting to help me ‘cook dinner for Daddy’, she studied the spice rack, handing me spices as I spelled them out for her to find.

  “Okay, monkey,” I said, “can you find me the sage?”

  Mattie giggled. “You’re a spice?”

  “There’s a spice with my name,” I shrugged with a smile, reaching for my cell phone as it began to ring.

  Conall.

  A little flutter whirled through my belly as I accepted the call.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey,” he replied. “I just wanted to let you know I’m on my way. See if there was anything you wanted me to stop and pick up from the store.”

  Such a normal thing for a daddy to do. Seeing if there was anything the mommy needed on his way home from work. But for me it felt so strange. Good, but strange.

  “Um, I don’t know that there’s anything we really need,” I said.

  “You got anything for dessert? I could pick up some ice cream or something.”

  “Sure, the usual,” I smiled into the phone.”

  “Mommy,” Mattie interrupted my train of thought, still staring at the spice rack with her brow knitted tightly, “I can’t find the sage.”

  “It might have another word with it, monkey,” I suggested, and stepped over to take a look. I pointed to the letters on the jar, still speaking into the phone as well. “Here it is, see? It says rubbed sage.”

  “Mmmm,” Conall murmured through the phone, “sounds delicious.”

  And the flutter I’d felt became a hoard of butterflies.

  Just. Like. That.

  Conall

  “So…” Mattie said as she shoved a spoonful of mashed potatoes in her mouth.

  “Mattie,” I admonished, “don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetie.”

  She snapped her mouth closed and smiled widely at me before chewing obediently and looking around the table at Sage, Kian, and Brynn. I swear the kid actually liked it when I told her what to do. Had to drive Sage nuts, because she had a completely different reaction to Sage’s orders, but I adored it.

  “Okay, what were you saying?” I asked her as she swallowed her food.

  “Since I have a daddy now,” Mattie innocently rambled on, “maybe I could have a baby sister.”

  Sage had the misfortune of taking a sip of wine as Mattie’s words hit our ears, and she practically choked when she realized what our daughter was requesting.

  Brynn grinned widely with a chuckle. “I think that’s an excellent idea, Mattie,” she laughed as she patted Sage on the back to help clear her throat.

  “Brynn,” Kian warned, but clearly with amusement.

  Recovering from the discomfiture and flushed a lovely shade of pink, Sage took a deep breath and looked down at our daughter. “Um, maybe a kitty first, huh, monkey.”

  “Party pooper,” Brynn muttered playfully.

  Sage shot her a shut-the-fuck-up-right-now look, then glanced at me desperately, her eyes begging me for a little help.

  Trying not to laugh at her obvious discomfort (because she was really cute in her embarrassment), I toned down my smile and looked at Mattie. “Actually, kiddo,” I said, “there is a really sweet mama barn cat that had kittens yesterday. When they get a little older, you could probably pick one out to keep at my place on the ranch.”

  “Yay, kitty!” Mattie exclaimed as she bounced up and down in her chair.

  Sage looked at me like I’d just ended world hunger or cured cancer. Her luminous eyes caught mine for a long moment, and she gave me a slight, wry smile. Then she glanced at Brynn who was grinning widely… knowingly. Sage pursed her lips and shot her a dirty scowl.

  Brynn only laughed and leaned up against Kian’s shoulder, grabbing his upper arms tightly, causing Kian to flinch. Which was kind of a surprise to everyone, because Kian didn’t really do… pain.

  “Damn, babe…” he half-growled. “Don’t forget about my arm.”

  “What happened to your arm,” Sage asked him with concern.

  Brynn grinned widely as she looked up at him. “It’s a new tat,” she explained, pulling the sleeve of his t-shirt up a little to reveal a lovely blonde woman… a lovely blonde naked woman with a swirl of fabric barely covering her breasts and hips. “His goddess.”

  “You got a chick on your arm?” I asked.

  “And you were okay with it?” Sage asked Brynn.

  “It’s a Celtic goddess queen named Achtland,” Brynn smiled mysteriously. “She was a mortal woman that couldn’t be satisfied by any mortal man. But then she met some dude from some mythical race of giant Irish god-like men, deities and heroes. Achtland fell in love with one of them and crossed into the land of Fey to be his wife, thereby becoming immortal. She’s the goddess of sex and desire.”

  “So, um… Kian,” Sage asked as she reached over to cup her hands over Mattie’s ears, “why do you have a Celtic sex goddess on your arm?” Mattie simply continued eating her Oreo ice cream as though nothing seemed odd to her.

  Kian simply grinned. “It kinda reminded me of Brynn… never satisfied.”

  Brynn gently kissed his arm and murmured fondly, “So I took a giant Irish god as my mate.”

  With her quiet words, Kian leaned down to kiss her on the tip of the nose. I glanced over at Sage, still covering Mattie’s ears. After taking a large slurp of her ice cream, Mattie narrowed her gaze at Kian and Brynn, who still seemed rather focused on each other. Then her little blue eyes looked back up at me, and she gave me a crooked little grin.

  “Ewwww, they’re getting all smoochie. They do this all the time,” she said, turning her mouth with disgust.

  Sage was doing everything she could not to look at me, focusing instead on smoothing down a tuft of Mattie’s hair. But with Mattie’s words, she hastened a glance up at me, swallowing hard when she saw me watching her. I could almost feel the yearning for something like that, in spite of the newness of this… whatever this was between us.

  “It’s true,” she mumbled as she quickly looked away. “They’re awfully lovey dovey.”

  Kian chuckled. “Took me a while to get her to this point,” he grinned over at me. “I doubt Sage would be near as much trouble.”

  “Kian!” Sage gasped. “Things are…” I raised my eyebrow at her, and her mouth snapped shut before she breathed out with a puff of frustration. “It’s not like that. We’re not even really… dating.”

  “This is not new for you, Sage,” Brynn chuckled. “You’ve never dated anyway.”

  “True,” Sage twisted her mouth wryly. “I wouldn’t even know what to do on a traditional date.”

  I looked over at her. “What kinds of dates have you been on?”

  She only looked down at Mattie’s little blonde head. “I haven’t…”

  “Ever?”

  She shook her head.

  I thought back, years ago to when I knew her before. Her dad wouldn’t let her date until she was sixteen, then Matt and I had kept the boys away. But surely after… hadn’t she?

  This que
stion kept circling my brain as Brynn and Kian left, then as I gave Mattie a kiss on the forehead before Sage took her and tucked her into bed.

  “Want a beer?” Sage asked after putting Mattie to bed. She glanced over at me on her way to the kitchen.

  I nodded, then watched as she strolled back out into the open living area and nestled next to me on the couch.

  “So,” I asked with some caution after taking a sip, “you’ve never been on a date.”

  “It’s not that big of a deal,” she smiled sadly.

  “Never?”

  She shook her head. “Never.”

  “Why, Sage?”

  She took a sip of her beer, pausing a moment before answering. “Well, first it was really because of you. When I was young, I didn’t want anyone but you. Even if I was invisible,” she said with a melancholy smile. “And then, you were gone, but I was pregnant. Doesn’t really have the guys lining up to take me out, you know. Then, when Mattie was really little, that was the farthest thing from my mind.”

  “What about Jeff?” I frowned. “He never took you out?”

  “That wasn’t dating. That was just…” she pursed her lips, “well, you know what that was. That was me being lonely, needing some kind of affection. But he was safe. I knew he’d never want more.” She took a long draw of beer and watched her fingertips peel at the label on the bottle. For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

  “You were wrong,” I finally said.

  She looked up at me, her brow knit in confusion. “About what?”

  “You were never invisible,” my hand reached up to cradle her cheek. “You were totally off-limits, but you were never invisible.”

  She relaxed into my palm, then snuggled up against me, resting her head on my shoulder. “It’s water under the bridge.”

  Breathing deeply at the fresh, delicate scent of her hair, I tightened my arm around her. “I want to take you out. A date.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she murmured.

  “I know,” I replied. “But I want to. Trust me.”

  Sage was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice was barely a faint whisper. “I’m trying to.”

  Chapter 20 ~ Date Night

  Sage

  Three days later, I had the night off work and I was a little bit panicked.

  I was almost twenty-two years old, I was the mother of a four-year-old, and I was going out on my very first date.

  I’d planned things to where I’d be all prepared, cool and confident when Conall arrived to pick me up. But, instead, I’d missed my hair appointment and had been late dropping Mattie off at the neighbor’s for babysitting. In an attempt to relax and compose myself, I poured a nice glass of red wine which I then promptly spilled down the front of my dress.

  In all reality, this could have actually been worse. As it was, I could also only find one shoe that went with the dress, so spilling the wine actually sort of made that wardrobe decision for me. But not until after I’d become all sweaty and nasty looking for that shoe.

  Between that and the strong boozy smell that emanated from me, I ended up taking a super-fast second shower and had just blow-dried my hair when I heard a knock on the door.

  Fuck. He was early.

  I glanced at the clock.

  Oh, shit… Wait. Actually, I was running late.

  Throwing on my second-choice dress, I went to let Conall in.

  To take Conall in, really.

  Because he looked amazing.

  Black jeans and a dark button-down shirt. He wasn’t wearing his usual ball cap, but had his short hair arranged in a spiky way that made him appear somewhat formal and bad-boy all at once.

  And he was holding a bouquet of white roses.

  I tried to talk, but I just sort of squeaked.

  “I stopped at the florist,” he explained sincerely, “and told her I wanted to get you flowers that really meant something. She said white roses can mean a few things… usually new beginnings. But also remembrance. Seemed perfect…”

  He bought me flowers. Again.

  Maybe totally cliché, but I loved it just as much this time as I had the last. More, really, because this time he knew how much it would mean to me. And he’d shared with me what it meant to him.

  Our ‘date’ was nothing less than perfect. Candlelit dinner in a quiet little corner of The Pass, a small steakhouse back off the main highway a few miles outside of Bitterroot. This had always been my favorite restaurant, even as a kid. Something that Conall had remembered after all this time. Something about the rustic atmosphere of the old log structure, which had started as a stagecoach stop during the gold rush days, had never failed ignite the romantic in me. I’d always imagined the wild west, vigilantes risking their lives to bring the criminals to justice. The women they loved and protected.

  The comfort of this place helped to ease the nervousness that had rattled me earlier. That and the man who had brought me here. Because, yes, this was my very first date… ever. I was a total late bloomer in that regard.

  But it was with Conall. And that alone made it perfect.

  The sun was setting low in the sky, lighting the clouds and scant haze of smoke a deep reddish pink, as we made the short drive down the mountain back to Bitterroot.

  “You know,” I mused quietly, “you really didn’t have to do all this.”

  Conall smiled over at me and reached out to hold my hand. “I wanted to.”

  “Yeah, but… you know I’m a sure thing, right? I’ve been known to put out.”

  He laughed, deep and throaty. His smile sparked something deep within me. It unfurled and overwhelmed me. It made me want to throw caution to the wind.

  “Stop the truck, Conall,” I breathed, my voice sounding husky and heated in my own ears.

  He eyed me suspiciously as he let off the gas and allowed the pickup to slow.

  I looked ahead, just down the road. “Right there,” I said, pointing to a fishing access sign that veered off down towards the creek. “Turn there.”

  “Why?” His knowing, mischievous smile had my heart racing.

  My own voice became completely breathy and quiet… sensual. “Just do it.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and lifted the folding down console to allow me to sit closer to him.

  As he steered the pickup back through the trees, off the main road towards the bubbling creek, a quiver ran up through my body. Turning off the engine, he looked down at me, his eyes growing dark. I turned a bit on the bench seat, raising up a little as I grazed my fingertips across his strong jaw. The dark bristle of a day’s growth of beard sent tingling vibrations down through my stomach, and I lifted my lips to his. Within a heartbeat, one of his hands tangled into my hair, his other hand sliding down over my ass. I shifted slightly, moving my leg over him to straddle him in the driver’s seat. The hemline of my short dress pushed up as I spread wide to press against him.

  I loved the taste of his kiss. I relished in it, gorged myself on it. The smooth, even line of his teeth. The warm, wet swirl of his tongue. His heavy hands gripping and pulling and holding me to him. I languished in every tremor he wrought from me. Every moan I let loose echoed in the small cab of the truck. Breathlessly, I angled my torso away, keeping my pelvis pressed tightly against his growing, hard length. With his hands coming to rest at my hips, I reached behind me to unzip my dress and shimmied it over my head, tossing it to the passenger side of the truck.

  Conall’s gaze lit on my black demi bra and itty bitty panties, the satin fabric shining in the evening rays of sunlight that filtered through the trees. His hands grazed up my ribs to cup my breasts, squeezing them and pushing them together.

  “Fuck me…” Conall breathed out, and he leaned forward to trace his lips along the silky edge of my bra. My fingers threaded through his short-cropped hair, scraping along his scalp, tugging to press his lips more firmly to the swell of my breast. My nipples ached, rigid and tight, craving the wet warmth of his mouth to sooth their need. He reached behind me
and deftly unclasped the hooks, tugging the fabric from me and tossing it to the other side of the seat.

  His lips closed over my tender skin, drawing hard and nipping sharply. My gasp reverberated through the small space as I ground my hips against his. My head fell back, my body leaning against the steering wheel as he followed, tantalizing my nipple with his tongue and his teeth. His hands were everywhere, setting my senses on fire as he massaged my breast firmly with one hand and caressed my hip with the other. The scrape of his fingertips traced the lacy line of my panties, and he slipped his hands around my bottom to pull me tighter against him.

  Frantically, I lifted, reaching for the button fly of his jeans, yanking them apart to free him. To touch him and stroke him. Conall lifted me to kneel on the pickup seat and pushed my panties down my legs. He kissed my stomach, grazing his fingers across my bare mound before he lifted his hips to take his jeans off in the small space.

  At the first glimpse of his hard, mouthwatering cock, I reached down to grasp the steely length, grazing my thumb over the head and pumping my hand gently to draw forth a droplet of precum. Capturing the liquid with my thumb, I brought it to my lips, tasting his essence and moaning with the erotic flavor.

  My other hand trailed down the ridges of his abs, again seeking the smooth heat of his rigid flesh as I swirled my tongue around my thumb, my gaze locked on his and desperate to taste and feel his skin.

  “Fuck, baby,” he growled as he grasped my hips and pulled me down, spread wide across his lap. My tongue swept along my lips, and he pulled me forward to kiss me deeply. “I’d love this mouth, but I want your pussy.”

  I felt a nudge at my sex, grazing my wet flesh.

  I angled my body against him, pressing the thick head against my center, trying to position him just right to slide inside me. Conall’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me to him as he filled me, one hand tangling in my hair and the other firmly gripping my hip. A sharp cry erupted from my throat as he stretched me, pulling me harder against him with his thrust.

  “Oh fucking God,” he rasped. “Sage, fuck…”