She nodded.
All the signs were there that she was as eager to be with him as he was to be with her. Normally, they’d be halfway back to his place. If a cookie was placed on his plate, he’d never been the type to eat his vegetables first. Life was too short to not choose pleasure first.
But not this time.
As much as he wanted her in his bed, he wanted to make sure she was okay even more. He needed to know what was behind the sadness he’d sensed in her. It wasn’t something he bragged about, but he’d always been able to feel the pain in others. An eighth sense. Nothing formal. Nothing flashy. He simply felt an ache around certain people. Usually he helped them by playing the clown. Laughter was a great healer.
There’d been long, sad days after his mother had died. He remembered the comfort every member of his family had found in the antics of their Newfoundland, Piper. Her wagging tail and enthusiasm had brought smiles back to their faces when nothing else had.
Connor had taken that lesson to heart. Most people, regardless of how hurt or hardened they were, wanted to be loved. They yearned to be welcomed with dog-level enthusiasm. He’d changed many things about himself to fit in with the Barringtons, but he hadn’t changed that. He didn’t care how many times they threatened him, that family needed hugs more than most.
Allowing himself the briefest of kisses, Connor teased his lips over Angelina’s then closed the door between them before he changed his mind. In a flash he was dressed in his charcoal suit and fancy leather shoes.
“Ready?” he asked as he exited the changing room. “How does pizza sound?”
Chapter Twelve
Angelina’s head was still spinning as Connor parked his Mercedes behind a small family restaurant in Queens. When he’d whisked her out of the photographer’s studio, she’d half expected him to drive straight to his place or ask for her address.
Instead it looked as if they were actually going to have pizza.
Her hands were clasped on her lap. They hadn’t kissed again since they’d been alone. She didn’t know what to think. Her heart was beating about a thousand times a minute, though. She couldn’t remember being so excited to be on a date with a man—ever.
After parking, he released his seat belt and turned to her. “Before we go any further, there’s something you need to know.”
Oh, shit.
I knew there was something. Is he dying? Secretly married?
Contagious?
She’d once gone on a date with a man who’d chosen just such a moment to tell her he had an unusual fetish—nylons. As in, he couldn’t orgasm unless he was wearing them. It had been a deal breaker for her.
Please don’t let it be anything I can’t handle.
She also released her seat belt and turned in her seat. Honesty deserved to be treated respectfully, even if it changed things.
He reached for one of her hands. Their fingers laced and her body revved wildly even from that innocent touch. I could overlook a fetish or two to keep feeling this way. “Yes?”
Caressing the back of her hand with a thumb, he took a moment before saying, “Remember I said I wasn’t the man you think I am?”
He used to be a woman?
No, look at him. Medicine may have come a long way, but he’s more muscled up than most born a male.
And he has an Adam’s apple.
Shit, he’s a criminal.
Please don’t be a criminal.
“I remember.”
“You were dead right when you said I’m not the character I played in Danger Doubled. I never went to college. Until this past year, pretty much the only thing I read were comic books. Now I have a Kindle and if I die the thing should be buried with me because I’ve one clicked some weird shit.”
Some of Angelina’s inner panic began to subside. Was his secret simply bad taste in literature? “I’m not sure what you’re trying to tell me.”
He turned her hand over and traced the lines on her palm, distracting and exciting her at the same time. How was it possible to be clothes-shedding ready from barely touching? “I was nervous the day I went to Reemsly to speak. Bradford isn’t my bodyguard. I brought him for moral support. Really intelligent people intimidate me because I’m not considered the brightest guy in any room. The man you met that day doesn’t exist. I was acting.”
Her heart broke for him as she realized he meant every word. She wanted to slap whoever had made this man feel like he was anything short of incredible. Despite the emotion misting her eyes, she forced a smile. “That’s a relief, because I thought you were an asshole.” A memory came back to her from his speech and she amended, “Except when you spoke to the students. Was any of that real?”
“I work with a life coach who wrote the first speech for me. The soccer team talk was all me.”
Yes!
“Even the part about your sister taking down the bully?”
He shot her a boyish smile. “That story doesn’t fit my image so I don’t normally share it, but Viviana is a real firecracker. She can still beat most men at arm wrestling. You’ll love her.”
He wants me to meet his family? Breathing became difficult again. “I’m sure I will.”
Connor raised their linked hands between them. “When my sister married Grant Barrington we all sort of did too. The only time I wore a suit before we met him was at my mother’s funeral and I was a kid. This watch—a gift. This car—another gift. My movie deals? I wouldn’t have them if it weren’t for Clay Landon’s connection to a producer. I have to act like I belong in this world because it means a lot to my sister. The truth is, I’m a regular guy living an extraordinary life, but most of the time all I really want is a loaded pizza and a cold beer. I don’t want to act with you. I want to be myself. That’s why I brought you here. Ada and Joel see me. I want you to, too.”
Could a woman fall in love with a man in a moment? Was he the key to finding a way to reclaim the part of herself she’d closed off? “I was born and raised on a farm in Oklahoma. I only moved to New Jersey when I got pregnant with Whitney and then I had to learn how to fit into this world as well. Nobody noodles around here. They don’t even know what it means.”
“Noodles?”
The door she’d closed between who she was and who’d she’d once been opened just a crack . . . enough for her to pull out a memory that brought a smile to her face. “Fishing with your hand. Essentially, you put your bare hand near a catfish nest, hope it latches on, and wrestle it to the surface while it tries to drown you. They make good eating. It’s an adrenaline rush, but dangerous.” She touched the back of her hand. “That scar is from a snake I thought was a catfish. You only make that mistake once.”
His grip tightened on her hand. “Hold on. Wait one damn minute. You stuck you hand in a catfish nest? This little hand?”
With anyone else she might have felt embarrassed, but he sounded genuinely impressed. “Bet your ass I did. There is a pond near the house I grew up in that the locals filled with cars in the 1980s. Just the outside shell of old vehicles. Catfish love them and the pond is shallow enough to dive down without a tank. Trunks are the best place to find catfish, but you’d better have a strong spotter—that’s the person who makes sure you get back to the surface—because those catfish can be fifty to eighty pounds. It’s not a sport for the meek . . . or really for anyone after they realize they’re not immortal.”
A huge smile spread across his face. “I need to see this.”
She blushed. “Oh, I haven’t done it in over a decade. I doubt even my brothers do it anymore.”
“Don’t you know?”
She looked away. “We don’t talk much anymore.”
“How about your parents?”
Eyes still averted, she said, “We had a falling out.” Her face tightened and she blinked a few times quickly. And there it was . . . the source of her sadness. Family.
He cupped her chin and brought her face around until her eyes met his again. “This is where I’m supposed
to say you don’t have to tell me what happened, but any woman who can stick her hand in an underwater car trunk as bait isn’t one who’s afraid of much.”
Tears filled her eyes. “That’s where you’re wrong. I tell myself I’m strong, but it’s a lie. I stopped going home because I couldn’t face the people in my town who’d judged me when I got pregnant. I lied to my parents about why I refused to visit because I was ashamed. I stopped talking to my brothers because I felt bad about myself every time they pushed me to come home and I refused. Eventually, they just stopped calling and I told myself we were all better off for it. So, I guess I’m not who you thought I was, either.”
He hugged her then, pulled her to him and enveloped her in muscle and comfort. “Nope. You’re a million times better. I’m not perfect. I don’t want perfect. I’m looking for someone I can be myself with.”
“Me too.” She leaned back and met his gaze. “I’ve never told anyone about my family before. My friends know I don’t see them, but not why.”
He combed a hand through her hair. “There’s something else you should know.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Whatever it was, she was willing to work with it. “What?”
“I’ve had a lot of sex. A lot. More than I probably should have, although some might argue that too much is never enough—”
She put a finger over his lips. “I get the idea.”
He kissed her finger then lowered her hand. “No, I don’t think you do. If I’d wanted to, we would have already fucked.”
She frowned and opened her mouth in protest.
He kissed her lips lightly and her argument died before it was voiced. Okay, we probably would have. His kiss was so sweet, so tender that she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself over to it.
When he raised his head, they were both flushed and breathing heavily. “Damn, it’s hard to think around you.”
“I could say the same thing.” For someone who’d spent the last thirteen years cautiously making plans and sticking to them, she felt wildly spontaneous. No possible outcome outweighed how good he made her feel. At least none she could think of while her body was humming for his.
He set her back from him, turned away, and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “This would be so much easier if I didn’t like you so much. I know I’m saying this all wrong. Let me start over. I want to date you, meet your son, go home with you to meet your parents, and learn how to noodle from your brothers. I want to take you to game night with Sophie and Dale and all those crazy Barringtons. I want to make you happy first, then make you mine. If that means I’m too nice—the kind of guy you’ll fuck three times and walk away from—I guess there’s not much I can do about that. I’m done feeling bad about who I am.”
It was so different from how any man had ever treated her, she didn’t believe it at first. Men said whatever they thought would get them sex. So why was he turning it down?
Because he wants to see me happy first?
Who does that?
In a society where everyone was accustomed to instant gratification and tended to put their own needs above those of others . . . could a man like this actually exist?
And if he did, a woman would be a fool to walk away from him. “Are you horrible in bed?” she asked then gasped. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to figure out what kind of woman wouldn’t want what you just described.”
A look of sheer horror entered his eyes. He pulled a phone out of his jacket pocket and swiped through numbers then held up a hand in a request for silence. “Hold on.”
Who in the world was he calling?
“Gracie, do you have a minute? I have a quick question. You know the multiple orgasms I gave you on that ski trip to Tahoe? Did you fake those? Are you sure? She says no. Gracie, don’t be nice about it. Give me the truth here because I think I met the one and if there’s room for improvement I need to know. Okay, so everything was good, but the ice was cold on your back. I should have thought of that. Yep. Yep. I can understand that . . . Oh, that’s not good . . . Thanks, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be off the market soon. You too . . .”
He was smiling after ending the call. “I was with Gracie a few months ago. I might be able to find someone more recent.” He swiped through more of his contacts.
Angelina grabbed his phone. “No need. I believe you.” As what he’d done sunk in, she asked, “What was she saying?”
He grinned and glanced at his crotch. “She misses the big guy, but she has an unhealthy attraction to men who treat her like shit. We weren’t together long. The guy she left me for only wanted to be with her because he lost his job and was looking for a free place to crash. She said she’s open to giving us a second shot if things don’t work out with you.”
“Yeah, you can delete her number now,” Angelina said forcefully, a reaction that surprised her.
With mock fear, Connor retrieved his phone from Angelina and made a show of deleting Gracie’s contact information. He was all smiles when he dropped his phone back into his coat and said, “You get jealous. I like it.”
“I don’t—” Angelina stopped as she realized there was no reason to lie to Connor. “Not normally, but I don’t like the idea of you with anyone else.”
His smile widened. “We have so much in common. I don’t like the idea of me with anyone else, either.”
The kiss he swooped down to give her was interrupted by the arrival of a solemn looking man at his car door window. “Connor. Behind you. Do you know him?”
Connor looked over his shoulder then turned more toward his door. “With those bushy eyebrows? I bet I do.” Connor opened his door, slid out and offered the much smaller man a handshake in welcome. Angelina got out as well but remained on the other side of the car. “Am I finally meeting Joel and Ada’s son?” Connor asked.
The young man seemed nervous, but he shook Connor’s hand. “Yes. My name’s Jacob. My father told me what you did for me and that it was finally safe for me to come back for a visit. I wanted to say thank you. It’ll take me a while to save up the money, but I will repay every penny.”
Had Connor lent him money? Paid for his school? What did Jacob mean it was finally safe to come back?
Connor clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “The best way to repay kindness is to pass kindness along. You’ve got two amazing parents. Take care of them. Not just today, but when they’re older and not so fun to be around. That would be the best way to repay me.”
The young man’s face beamed with gratitude. “I will. I see how lucky I am now. Maybe you can help me convince them to move to Rhode Island. We have family up there and when I graduate it’s where I’d like to remain.”
“I’ll miss them, but my guess is they’ll love anywhere you all are.” Connor turned and waved for Angelina to join them. “Jacob, this is Angelina.”
Angelina slid beneath Connor’s arm and it felt natural—right. She shook Jacob’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Jacob.”
“You too.” After releasing her hand, Jacob said, “Perfect timing. The lunch rush just ended. Come on in. Mom and Dad will be excited to see you.”
As they followed Jacob through the parking lot, Connor bent to near Angelina’s ear and said, “I didn’t do anything. It was all Bradford, but he doesn’t like his name attached to anything. Something about having to kill us if we ever found out what he does.”
Angelina laughed.
Connor didn’t.
She didn’t have time to ask him if he’d been serious. The moment they entered the restaurant she was welcomed and not so subtly cross-examined. Not that she minded one bit. As Connor laughed and bantered with Joel and Ada, Angelina understood what he’d wanted her to see. They didn’t care about his fancy watch or that he was famous. As the five of them sat around a table, sharing a pizza and toasting with mugs of beer, there was a real sense of friendship.
These kinds of connections wouldn’t have been possible for the alpha she’d once thought he was. This was a h
umble man, hilariously self-deprecating at times, but with a sense of integrity and rightness that few had. Angelina could have sat there all night in a chair next to Connor, his arm around the back of hers, listening to him swap stories with the Fetters.
Her phone dinged with a reminder to pick up Whitney from school. No. She wasn’t ready for the day to end. “I have to go. My son,” she explained.
“I’ll call you a car,” Joel said. “You too, Connor. I know you can hold your liquor, but some things are not worth the risk.”
Connor agreed.
Not all risks were bad. At least that’s how it felt in the moment.
Before getting into the car that came to take her to her son’s school, she impulsively jumped up, trusting that Connor would catch her. He did, holding her against him, her feet dangling above the ground. Laughing, he shifted her higher so they were face-to-face. “Thank you for today,” she said, and kissed him boldly.
It was a deep and passionate exchange that ended too soon. He lowered her to her feet. “You’re welcome. See you tomorrow.”
She cocked her head to the side in confusion. Had he asked her out and she’d missed it?
“At work,” he added.
“Yes. Of course. See you there.”
Feeling dazed, Angelina slid into the back seat of the car. Just as she was about to close the door, he asked, “Are you free on Saturday?”
“I can be.” Oh, yes.
“Great. Now, be honest, do you want to spend tonight wondering how I feel or should I call and gush about how much fun I had today?”
Angelina smiled as her heart thudded wildly. “Call.”
He leaned in, gave her a quick kiss, then closed the door and waved.
As they drove away, the driver said, “Holy shit, was that Connor Sutton? I should have asked for his autograph.”
Angelina settled back and gazed out the window as they sped along the busy streets. “It was and he would have been okay with it because he’s a really nice man.”
I have no idea how any woman could think that’s a bad thing, but I’m so glad they did.
Reluctantly Alpha (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 8) Page 15
