He walked to the door, yanked it open, and paused. Before he left her apartment, and left her to pick up the pieces from this evening, he shattered her with one final question. “Know what I want from you?”
Her heart stilled in her chest. She didn’t have an answer. But he did.
“Everything.” He didn’t slam the door, didn’t stomp down the stairs, didn’t run across the parking lot. Simply pulled the door closed as he said, “See you later, Cupcake.”
She went out on the balcony and watched him swagger to his truck, that sure strong gait walking away from her while she stood mute in the cold, her hair whipping around her face and stinging her cheeks.
“I did the right thing,” she whispered as he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. But when he pulled away, and the cold penetrated her skin and seeped into her bones, she wondered.
Did she?
Was there really only one option for her and Connor? Move in together? Make this thing between them permanent, or else he’d go away for good? And if so, why had she chosen the latter?
When the wind blew cold, and her teeth began to chatter, Faith went back inside. Then she sat on the couch, looked from her wineglass to his, and decided to drink them both.
She would finish the bottle. She would fall asleep on the couch. Then she would call off work tomorrow. Maybe she’d call off the day after that, too. Maybe she’d quit altogether. Move back in with her mother. Stay away from the mansion. Stay away from Connor completely. Hide like the coward she was.
But she could never do that, could she? Connor was a friend of her friends. He worked with and for her friends. He was involved in her life in so many ways. He was all around her. She’d have to deal with him, whether she was with him or not.
And that, she realized as she refilled her glass and stared at his, may be the truest test of her strength there’d ever been. Because independence was now hers.
Thrust upon her, maybe because she’d been fighting for it this entire time.
She was victorious.
But the only thing she felt was lost.
* * *
“Pivot,” Donovan said from the doorway.
“Don’t make me laugh.” Connor lifted the edge of his plastic-wrapped couch, using the muscles in his legs and arms to haul it a few inches higher. “Push,” he managed.
Donny pushed, and miraculously—finally—they got Connor’s first piece of furniture he’d bought in…ever…into the cottage. They settled it on the floor in front of the fireplace. He’d already hauled out the old couch. Frankly, he couldn’t look at the makeshift bed where he and Faith had spent Christmas another second.
“Beer?” Connor offered.
“Yeah.” Donovan sat on the couch, plastic crinkling.
He delivered, and they twisted off the caps at the same time and drank.
“So.”
Nice try. “I’m not talking about Faith.”
Donovan tipped his head, sending his black hair sliding over one eye. “You sure as shit are.”
He glared over at his buddy, who leaned an elbow on the arm of the new leather sofa.
“I recall you making a phone call to me when I was being an idiot about Sofie.”
“This is different.”
“I know. You’re being an idiot about Faith.”
“She doesn’t want me.” Embarrassing to admit. But true.
“Boo-fucking-hoo.”
He clenched his jaw. “Dammit, Donny, I’m not doing this shit. I’ve been through enough.”
“You need to man up, McClain.” He took another pull from his beer. “Take it from one idiot to another.”
“I’m reenlisting.”
That shut his friend up for a second. But only one. “Why?”
Connor shrugged, but he knew why. He was a man who served. Who liked to feel as if he were doing some good. Here…here, he was no good. Faith didn’t need him. He hadn’t been able to be there for Jonas.
“Much as I honor and admire the fact you put your ass on the line for the betterment of our country,” Donny said, holding his gaze steadily, “I’m going to have to respectfully disagree.”
“Not asking your opinion.”
“Sure you are. And I think you’re running away from Faith like you did Maya.”
“Fuck you.” He paced the room.
“Don’t take it out on me, man. You need to face her. Face what you’re avoiding. The real issue. And the real issue here, brother, is not me.”
Connor felt his nostrils flare. Mainly because Donovan was making a point he couldn’t deny. His friend wasn’t the issue. The issue was that Connor had thrown down the mother of all ultimatums and the gamble hadn’t paid off.
“Nailing Faith down to a house, to a commitment with you, isn’t going to ensure she won’t leave you later,” Donny continued.
He felt his frown intensify and the confusion set in. “That’s what you think this is about?” Was it? An epiphany tingled on the edge of his brain. He wanted to ignore it, but his “friend” wouldn’t let him.
“After Maya left, you lost a shot at fatherhood. You lost a shot at marriage. You were so messed up over her taking away your future, you went over the big blue ocean to get away from her.”
“What do you know?” he grumbled, only halfheartedly lashing out at this point. “You weren’t around.”
Donovan stood and plunked the beer bottle on the side table by the window. “Not doing this with you. I don’t have your patience.” He grasped the doorknob.
“Hang on.”
He turned, black eyebrows raised. “Now he listens?”
Connor crossed his arms over his chest. “I need you to help me haul in my dresser before you go.”
Donny shook his head but dropped the knob.
Quietly, Connor said, “I’m listening.”
Then he faced his friend and did just that. Listened. Listened as Donovan explained that Faith was in the same place Connor was way back when. And explained how it’d taken years for Connor to get to the place where he could open himself up to someone else again. To buy a house. To start thinking in terms of love and family and a future.
Much as he hated to admit it, his buddy was making sense.
“Faith’s had, what? A year or so to recover?” Donny reclaimed his beer and gestured around the cottage with it. “She won’t move in here with you because she’s still shut down.”
“Yeah, well, that’s her choice. I told her in or out. She opted for out.”
Donny took in this new information, but surprisingly, didn’t berate Connor for it. Instead, he offered the simple observation of, “Convince her to let you in.”
Connor didn’t look at him, instead at his boots, now damp with melted snow.
“Or wait for her.”
“I don’t do that.”
“Start,” Donny said. “Or you’ll lose her for good.”
Connor raised his head and met his friend’s pale blue eyes. Donny was a lot of things to a lot of people. Honest and blunt were two things he was with everyone.
His friend popped the door open and headed outside. “Let’s get the dresser.”
Connor followed, the uncomfortable conversation knocking around in his head. He didn’t want to wait. He didn’t want to put himself in a position where the waiting turned into her leaving. Maybe that was unfair. The only other option Donny had suggested was Connor convincing her to let him in.
As he gripped the corner of his dresser in the back of his truck, he found he couldn’t decide which option he liked less.
* * *
“Okay so for tonight’s party, we have about a dozen people coming. Pretty small.” Sofie handed over a Cup of Joe’s mocha and sat down on Faith’s couch. “I want you to come.”
Faith, who had yet to shower (again), shook her head. “I don’t want to go to a party.”
“I know.”
“Connor will be there.”
“Probably. He practically lives in our ba
ckyard.”
The house. Our house. Faith wanted to cry, but she couldn’t. For some reason, the tears wouldn’t come. “I’m not in a partying mood.”
“You know”—she sat—“New Year’s Eve is a time for magic. A kiss at midnight, resolutions. Your whole life could change tonight.”
“Or maybe it won’t.” Maybe she and Connor were as in sync with this breakup as they had been with everything else. They were both hurt, both unwilling to budge. Maybe that was a sign in and of itself. “I’m not rushing things just because he thinks I should. Just because I hurt when he’s not here.”
Just because her chest was hollow and her nose was dry and her eyes were scratchy from unshed tears. Just because his being gone made her feel like life would suck forever.
“What’s stopping you?” Sofie asked gently. “What’s stopping you from taking the leap?”
“I don’t want to need anyone ever again. I never want to be to the point of marriage, or…a baby.” At that, her breath clogged, voice choked, and she let out a sob, releasing her pent-up tears.
Sofie put down her coffee and moved to the side of the couch. Faith collapsed into her. Then she told her. Everything. The negative pregnancy tests, Connor saying he loved her, how scared she was. How terrifying it was to feel so much for someone so soon. That she wasn’t even sure if she could trust what she felt.
Pushing her hair away from her face, Sofie held Faith’s face in her hands. “You listen to me, Faith Garrett. Connor is not Michael. If he says he loves you, he means it.”
“He meant it with his ex, too.” She sniffed. Here it was, the crux of her fears. “He wants to be needed. He wants to provide. What if…what if I’m convenient for him? What if this is more about him slaying his demons than really loving me?”
Sofie dropped her hands. “Honey.”
Since no argument came, Faith guessed she’d made a point. Damn. She was hoping to be wrong about that.
“You should ask him.” Sofie’s green eyes were sincere.
“Just…ask.” Like it could be that simple.
“Yes,” Sofie said without hesitation. “Come tonight. And if Connor doesn’t show up, you can go to the cottage and corner him. You need to know. It’s a new year, Faith. Make it matter rather than sit here and wonder.”
Make it matter.
New year. New her. New start.
“Okay.” She pushed herself off the couch. “Dress code?”
“Come as you are.”
Faith held out the T-shirt she was wearing. One she snagged from Connor that was three sizes too big. Underneath was a pair of yoga pants and bulky socks. “Really?”
“Well. Come as you’d like to be seen by our friends.” Sofie’s smile faded slightly when she added, “And Connor.” She stood and walked for the front door. “Either we’ll toast to your success, or drink to your failure. But you’ll know. And knowing is better than not knowing.”
How true.
With a wave, her friend vanished out of her apartment and Faith went into her room to find something decent to wear. And practice her speech.
The speech.
The moment she embraced her courage and confronted her fears.
Did Connor love her for her? Or was he trying to make good on his unresolved past? She had to know. Or there’d be no hope for them at all.
CHAPTER 26
Hey, sweetheart.” Gloria Shields swept over to Faith dressed in tight, black jeans, heeled boots, and a big cowl-neck red sweater. With her painted red lips, long sheet of black, silky hair, and stunning blue eyes, she looked amazing.
“You look incredible. I had no idea you’d be here.” How about that, Faith was smiling, and it felt genuine. Maybe she’d be okay regardless of how tonight went. She pulled Gloria into a hug. “Oh, and you smell good.”
“Keep it up, I’ll go home with you tonight.” She winked long black lashes. Then Glo’s smile vanished. “Sofie mentioned trouble in paradise with you and the grunt.”
“It’s…” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m going to talk to him tonight.”
“Good luck with that.”
She knew Gloria meant the statement sincerely. “Thank you.”
Shouts rose from the bar on the other side of the ballroom and Glo and Faith turned from the cart of desserts from Sugar Hi to see Asher walk through the double doors, arms spread.
“I’ll never be rid of him,” Glo growled, her voice low and unhappy. She finished her champagne. “It’s nearly eleven thirty and I’m just now loosening up. But there is no one here to kiss.” She lifted and dropped an eyebrow. “Everyone is annoyingly coupled off.”
It was true. Even Officer Brady Hutchins had brought a date when he was here earlier. He left not long ago. Probably for the best Connor didn’t find him here. If he showed.
“Well, I think Scott Torsett is still single, but Donny sort of hates him.”
Gloria chuckled. “The lawyer? Was that the guy Sofie dated?”
Faith nodded. “Yeah. Donny didn’t like seeing them together. So he threatened to break his hand and escorted him out of Salty Dog.”
Glo was laughing, but then her smile faded as she locked eyes with Asher Knight. Faith could see the heat between them—how much they both wanted each other. How much they were both fighting being together. It was hard to watch.
Were Faith and Connor doing the same thing? Were they denying themselves to protect their hearts?
“Is there any saving it?” Faith wondered aloud.
Dragging her gaze from Asher, who had turned his attention to Donovan and ordered a drink, Glo looked at Faith now. With a shrug of her small shoulders, she gave her a sad smile. “No. Sometimes there’s not.”
“I’m sorry. I can see it, you know. How hurt you are.”
Glo, usually stoic and rigid, pursed her lips and looked down at her empty flute glass. “He hurt me.” She snapped her blue eyes back up. “Being left for another woman…”
“There’s no other betrayal like it,” Faith finished for her. She had nearly forgiven Michael for it, for one insane second last year. In this very mansion, in fact. But then, she’d walked away from him…and went to Connor.
“I have a military man to question,” Faith said. “Is it cliché to find him at the stroke of midnight?”
Raising one black manicured eyebrow, Glo joked, “No. It’s cliché to run out at midnight, and lose one of your shoes on the stairs.”
She laughed—actually laughed. Maybe she’d be okay tonight no matter what happened. Until she heard the whoop come from the guys on the other side of the room again. This time, they were applauding Connor, who strode in dressed in his usual outfit of battered jeans, lace-up boots, and a navy blue henley. It’d only been a couple of days since she had seen him, yet he looked different somehow. It wasn’t like he’d aged, or his hair had gotten longer. But after seeing him every single day, not seeing him for a while made him look completely foreign.
God. She missed him.
He sent her a perfunctory glance, then tipped his chin in a nod, before taking Asher’s hand in a hearty shake and settling at the bar. Donovan poured shots and Evan materialized, Charlie in tow, who lifted a shot glass as well.
“Now’s your chance,” Gloria said. “Go tell him you love him.”
“I never…” Faith shook her head.
“Take it from me, toots.” Glo winked, looking very much like a classy Hollywood star from the era of black-and-white movies. “You love him.”
* * *
“Ten minutes!” Sofie announced, sliding behind the bar and wrapping her arms around Donny’s waist. Beside him, Connor was aware of Charlie leaning on Evan’s shoulder.
“It’s obnoxious around here,” Asher muttered under his breath as he lifted his refilled shot glass. Connor noticed his own glass had been filled as well. Asher clinked his glass against Connor’s. “The single women are standing by the cupcakes ignoring us.”
Cupcake. Connor downed the liquor and hoped it w
ould numb the ache that word held. No such luck.
“Sucks.”
He looked at the rock star.
“I know you think I’m an asshole,” Asher said. “Arguably you are right.” Donovan and Sofie, Evan and Charlie, and a few other friends were leaned on the corner of the bar chattering loudly, ignoring their conversation.
“I don’t think you’re an asshole.” Immature, maybe. Misguided, definitely. But Ash was not a dick. He cared about his friends, obviously, or else he wouldn’t be here.
“She won’t hear me out about the girl I had in my cabin years ago.” Asher sounded grim. Connor faced him and found him looking grim, too. Tired eyes met his. “When she finds out about my son, she’s going to hate me more than she does now.” He lifted a sardonic brow. “And that’s sayin’ something.”
Shit. The kid. “You had the DNA test.”
He nodded. “He’s mine. I had sex one time with that girl and we have a son.” He reached for the whiskey and poured a shot for himself. When he offered one to Connor, Connor shook his head. Asher drank his down, then blew out a breath. He sounded beat. Looked beat. “I’m not going to quit trying with her.”
“The mother?”
Asher winced. “No, man. Sarge,” he said, his nickname for Gloria. “She’s it. She’s stubborn and feisty and she hates me. I have a way to go.” He held up a finger as if making a point. “Oh, and I have a child with the girl she thinks I cheated on her with.” He shook his head. “Stacked deck.”
Connor had to admit, his odds were not good.
“What about you and Legs over there?” he asked.
“What about her?” Changing his mind, he refilled his shot glass after all.
“She’s looking at you like I look at Gloria. Pining.”
He felt his heart lift even as he shook his head. He was not having this conversation with Asher Knight. The man had no idea how to handle women. Or himself half the time.
“I know.” Asher gestured to himself. “Asshole. But listen to this asshole. You guys are salvageable. You’re still here, not in another state. And she’s at this party looking at you like she wants you. Glo looks at me like a cockroach just skittered into the room.”
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