Connor had seen firsthand that wasn’t true. Gloria looked at Asher like he’d crushed her heart under his cowboy boot. But the guy had enough to deal with without being enlightened further.
“Unless,” Asher continued, “you let some half-dressed groupie into your house over the last few days”—he stopped speaking and grasped Connor’s shoulder—“You didn’t, did you?”
“No, of course not.”
He blew out a breath, visibly relieved, and pulled his hand away. “Well, then if you didn’t do that, buddy, she’s about to have you back.”
Connor stole a glance over his shoulder, caught Faith looking at him. She turned to Gloria, ignoring him again. “How the hell do you know that?”
“One thing I know.” He spread his arms. Leather jacket, black tee, black jeans, cowboy boots hooked over the rung of the stool he sat on. “Women.” With a grin, he refilled his shot glass and banged on the bar top with the flat of one palm. “Whiskey, boys! All around. Why am I drinking alone?”
Everyone joined in on the next round, and Sofie called out, “Five till midnight!”
Connor passed up the shot, opening a bottle of water instead. When he turned to catch Faith’s eye again, she was no longer standing by the dessert cart. And Gloria was slipping behind the bar to pour herself a shot of tequila.
“Sarge,” Asher greeted.
“Asher.” She threw back the shot and gestured to the door with her glass. To Connor, she said, “She’s outside. Chickening out.”
He swallowed thickly, wondering what that meant. Then he decided to find out for himself.
As he slipped off the stool, he heard Asher say, “Atta boy.”
* * *
Nope.
She was still a coward. It was nearly midnight and Faith couldn’t possibly say everything she had to say to Connor before the ten-second countdown and then there would be kissing and if he was still angry with her like she suspected…
Well, she couldn’t stand and stare at him as the ball dropped and wait to see if he kissed or didn’t kiss her. How awkward would that be?
It was freezing out here, but the cold felt almost good. She wrapped her coat tighter and snuggled her nose into her scarf. The patio was clear, but there was a clean bed of snow stretching out across the back of the house, unmarked save for Gertie’s paw prints.
The door opened behind her and even all the way out here, she could hear the party inside roaring. She didn’t have to turn around to know who’d followed her out here. Gloria probably hadn’t wanted to stick around for the awkward midnight tradition, either. Well, at least there was strength in numbers.
“Not going to kiss Asher when the ball drops?” Faith asked.
“He’s not my type,” came a low voice.
Connor.
Her breath puffed out in front of her face. She wanted to turn around, she just…couldn’t. A plate appeared in front of her, on which was a shiny, chocolate-coated Devil Dog from Sugar Hi bakery. Her eyes traced the fingers, the thumb, the whole of Connor’s strong hand. A hand that had consoled her, protected her, turned her on. Helped her stand, held her face.
“I know how you like to indulge when you’re upset,” he said. She still hadn’t turned around. And now there were tears pushing against the backs of her eyes, and she was pretty sure she didn’t want to.
She did anyway.
The wind kicked his short hair up in the front, the sandy brown mess she’d fallen in love with from the first morning she’d woken up in his arms.
Hmm. How about that. She had fallen in love with his hands and his hair.
And him. Gloria was right. Faith did love him.
“Maybe we could share.” He glanced at the cake in his hand. “I’m having a horrible start to my new year.”
From the ballroom, she heard the shouts. They rose onto the air, the words clear in the silent night.
Five! Four!
“This isn’t how I wanted to do this,” she said quickly.
Three!
“Me neither.”
Two!
His lips closed over hers as the shout of “Happy New Year!” rang from the house. He pulled her against him with his free hand. It felt so good to be close to him again, all she could do was close her eyes and lean in. Lean into his solid chest, his sturdy warmth. His arm wrapped tightly around her back, as his lips lifted away from hers.
In tandem, they sighed.
“I have missed that,” he muttered, his eyes still closed.
Face-to-face, she admired how long his lashes were, those sharp cheekbones, and his firm mouth. She had missed him, too. So very much.
He opened his eyes and pegged her with his green-gold gaze. “Gloria said you wanted to talk to me. Said you came out here because you chickened out.”
A dry laugh echoed in her throat. “She was right.”
But then again, Gloria knew of what she spoke. There were plenty of things unsaid between her friend and Asher. In her own way, Gloria was chickening out, too.
“Let’s have it,” Connor said.
No time like the present, she supposed. “I guess…You were wrong. I am a coward.”
His eyebrows drew together like he wanted to argue. He didn’t. So she continued.
“I’m afraid maybe you don’t love me as much as you love the idea of having someone near. Someone who won’t leave. Someone who was almost pregnant with your child.”
His nod was tight, but it was a nod. “That’s fair.”
She didn’t mean to look surprised, but she could feel one skeptical eyebrow lift. He noticed and swallowed a smile. With one finger, he pressed her eyebrow down.
“Continue,” he instructed. “I’m listening.”
Wow. Something had changed. She couldn’t get him to listen to anything she had to say in her apartment a couple of days ago.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m also afraid to feel what I feel for you. Because the last time I opened myself up, I lost…everything.” But had she? Even as she blurted that out, she wondered if it was true. Looking to the side in thought, she shook her head. “No, no, that’s not right. I didn’t have everything with Michael. I had the idea of everything. The ring, the engagement, the shared living quarters.” Her eyes made their way to his, where she focused on the flecks of gold in a sea of brown and green. “With you I have everything else.”
She did. She had his heart, and though he didn’t know it yet, he had hers. Shrugging, she went for it. “I’m tired of being afraid. There are things I want and I’m not going to be scared of wanting them anymore.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly. Turning, he put the Devil Dog on a small iron table covered with snow. Then he came back to her, grasped her jaw in his hands.
Cold fingertips against her warm face, he trained his gaze on hers. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to lean on someone.”
“I have big shoulders,” he said.
“You do.” She smiled. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“You’re not.”
“I want to spend the rest of my life laughing and crying with the right person.” He didn’t interrupt this time. “I want every day of my life to feel like the Christmas we spent together.”
His eyes were severe, fierce. As if by boring into her head, he might extract her thoughts. He was looking for the answer to the one question she knew he would never ask her. So she’d have to tell him.
“The truth is,” she said, her voice quiet, “I love you and I’m afraid to say it out loud.”
His mouth dropped open, a breath blowing out, visible in the cold air. He took a step closer to her and lowered his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes when his face went blurry, but his voice surrounded her.
“Say it again, Cupcake. Please.”
It was the please that made her smile. “I love you, Connor.”
His hands went to her head and he pulled her close, tightening his hold around her body as he hugged her.
&
nbsp; “Shit,” she heard him whisper.
She pulled back to look at him—after trying twice, he finally let her—only to find him wiping his nose and eyes with the sleeve of his coat.
“Cold’s making my eyes water,” he said, sniffing. A nervous laugh shook his shoulders. He turned those red-rimmed eyes and rosy cheeks to her now. Snow had begun to fall and was sticking to his hair. Levity gone, he took her hands and warmed her fingers in his. “Let me in, Faith. You won’t be sorry.”
“I know.”
“You’re not Maya.”
“I know.”
“I wanted that pregnancy test to be positive but it had nothing to do with my past.”
That, she didn’t know. And it was oh, so good to hear. It was also her turn to share something private. Her chin shook as she felt her eyes fill.
“Me too.” Freeing her hand, she swiped her eyes. “God, we’re crazy.”
“Promise me,” he said, drawing her attention.
“Promise you what?”
“Promise you’ll let me love you and I promise no more ultimatums. Whenever you’re ready, we can do the house thing. Or not. Whenever it’s good for you.”
She nodded. Grateful for the promise. Grateful for him. Grateful for second chances. And her moronic ex-fiancé who, by attempting to gain entry into her apartment, had given her the man in front of her.
“Happy New Year, by the way.” Connor nodded back, the covenant struck.
“Happy New Year to you.” Eyes sliding to the abandoned plate, she asked, “Can I have that now?”
“There she is.” He grinned. “Let’s go in and eat it, yeah? Freezing out here.”
“Yeah.”
He took the plate and her hand, and led her inside. They didn’t go to the ballroom, but instead, to the indoor greenhouse where she’d first come to him. When she knew what she needed but was afraid to trust her instincts. She didn’t want to doubt herself ever again.
“Like it?” he asked when they walked in.
She almost asked what he was talking about, but then she saw it. The Chia Pet, in the center of his lavender garden, green shoots starting. Throwing her head back, she laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“This really sexy girl gave it to me,” he said, lifting the cake off the plate. “She is a sugar fiend. Legs up to her neck.” The cake came closer to her lips. “She wears the sexiest underwear I’ve ever seen in my life. And her nipples—”
She pressed her fingers over his lips. “I get the point.”
Kissing her fingertips, he lowered her hand and closed in on her with the Devil Dog. “With this bite, I promise I will fulfill every one of the dreams you spoke about outside, for as long as you let me.”
Had anything ever torn her eyes away from a chocolate-dipped, cream-filled cake before? She didn’t think so. But she took her gaze away from the tower of chocolate perfection to meet Connor’s face. Sincere, genuine love shined from his eyes.
“You can lean on me,” he said. “I won’t ever leave you alone. You can spend the rest of your life laughing and crying with me, and I will do my damnedest to make every minute with you from here on out just like our first Christmas together.”
He went blurry in front of her as tears filled her eyes again. She blinked them back. There was nothing to cry about now. Instead, she leaned in and took a very large bite out of her most favorite dessert.
He chuckled and she knew why; she could feel the chocolate dotting her lips, the whipped cream on her nose, the crumbs tracking down her chin. She covered her mouth to chew the oversized bite and gestured to him. He crammed the cake into his mouth, his bite twice as large as hers, and reminded her of the day, in this very room, when he consoled her. When all he wanted in the world was to make her laugh.
She did that now as she cleaned off her face with her fingers. He swallowed the bite and his tongue came out to take a bit of cake from the corner of his lip. Then he dropped the cake on the plate and licked his fingers. Never in her life had anything looked as sexy as Connor McClain licking his fingers after taking a bite out of a Devil Dog. A Devil Dog that was so much more than a shared dessert.
Kissing her, he wrapped his arms around her and she melted into him like she always had. He was here. He was hers.
Arms around his neck, she leaned close to his ear and whispered, “I promise, too. All of those things.”
They held each other until Faith made out Sofie’s voice through the vents saying something about where “those two disappeared to.” Gloria’s muffled but pronounced voice answered, “I’m sure they’re fine.”
After that, Faith didn’t hear much of anything, other than Connor’s suctioning lips on her neck, and the promises he whispered into her ear as he turned her inside out with his amazingly talented hands.
She was in the right place. Finally. And better yet, embracing her courage, and her future.
A future, as it turned out, which included Connor.
EPILOGUE
A row of cheery pink and yellow tulips lined the side of the cottage. The brutally cold winter had finally given way to spring, and Faith was so glad to see the sun, if she could hug it, she would have.
At the door of Connor’s cottage, she took another look around at what he’d done to the place. Since “The Thaw,” as they’d been referring to it, he’d cleared out a few trees at the side and back of the house, had a large, decorative outdoor fireplace (built by the talented Donovan Pate) added to the side of the driveway, and was now clattering around in the shed off to the side of the house.
Or so she guessed by the loud curse coming from that vicinity.
“Hey! Beefcake!” She held the gift bag in her right hand aloft when he poked his head out.
His smile never failed to make her smile back.
After the New Year’s kiss and shared Devil Dog, she promised herself she would not rush headlong into anything until she was ready. Come February, however, she was over at Connor’s new house almost exclusively, promising she’d stay “a few more hours” before she retired to her own apartment. He always insisted she give in and stay the night, and honestly, he’d won that argument nearly every time it came up. Anyway, it was silly to draw a boundary they’d never had before.
The boundaries continued being pushed when she’d started helping him with his abysmal accounting system. If Faith was one thing, she was organized. Invoices, billing, and receipts had been something she’d been overseeing for C. Alan Landscaping as soon as he’d allowed her to get involved. Which was basically, immediately.
In relationship matters, however, he had promised he wouldn’t push her, and she had promised she was all in. So far they’d both kept those promises. Until this morning, she had no idea how “all in” she was. Her fingers curled around the handles of the bag. All in, as it turned out, was now, all the way in.
He stepped out of the shed wearing a tight navy blue T-shirt and distressed jeans smudged with oil or dirt from whatever he’d been tinkering with. He was, as always, drop-dead gorgeous.
“Love that smile, Cupcake,” he said now, returning her grin with one of his own. “Come for some afternoon delight?”
“You wish,” she said as he tracked over to her. “I brought you a gift.” She lifted the black bag, stuffed with a ridiculous amount of pink tissue paper. When he reached for it, she pulled it away. “Ah, ah. Kiss first.”
He snatched the bag from her hand before she could stop him and hauled her against his body, no doubt smearing whatever was on his jeans onto her light gray pantsuit. She was about to take him to task for it when his tongue entered her mouth, leaving her breathless. Dry cleaning worked wonders, so she decided not to worry. There were bigger things in life than fabric stains.
“That’s more like it,” he rumbled against her lips.
“You are really terrible at being submissive.” Her eyes narrowed.
“Maybe you’re really terrible at being dominant.” He let her go and pulled a handful of pink tissue paper out of th
e bag and chucked it into the fireplace. Pulling out another large handful of paper, he muttered, “What’s this for, anyway? It’s not my birthday. Valentine’s Day has passed. And I thought we agreed—”
Whatever he’d been about to say froze on his tongue. She took him in, memorizing this moment—the look on his face in this moment. His eyes were on what was in the bag, his mouth open, a wad of pink tissue paper crinkling in his hand.
“I bought two,” she said. “Just in case.”
Blinking up at her, his fist closed around the paper. “And they’re…You already…”
“Took them?” she finished for him. “Yes. They both say the same thing.”
Visibly, his throat worked as he swallowed. He dropped the paper into the fireplace, pulling out the two plastic sticks before he tossed in the bag, too.
“Pregnant,” he read off one of the sticks. “Pregnant,” he repeated, reading the other one. Then her big guy seemed to lose the ability to stand, and collapsed onto a concrete bench.
She sat with him. “There’s one more thing.”
He took his eyes from the tests, his expression dazed.
“Connor McClain.” From her pocket, she pulled a sprig of lavender and held it up in front of him. “When I first met you, I thought you were an overly confident, broad-chested man with a great ass.”
A hint of a smile tilted his lips. Lips surrounded in enough sexy stubble to make her knees weak. Good thing she was already sitting.
“Now I know better.”
He took her hand with his free one, still holding the pregnancy tests in one fist.
“Now I know you’re an overly confident, broad-chested man with a great ass,” she teased.
He shook his head in warning, his tentative smile widening.
“You are also the man of my dreams.” Her grin faded, done teasing. “The man who let me in and taught me how to be brave. Like you.” She turned over his hand and put the lavender in his palm.
She sought his eyes, noting they were suspiciously damp.
“Marry me,” she said.
He blew out a deep sigh. “You ruin everything.”
A Bad Boy for Christmas Page 29