She scanned the listing. “Why did the two boa constrictors get married?”
“Because they had a crush on each other.”
“You peeked!” She elbowed him in the side.
He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Not too hard to figure out.”
“Or you peeked.”
“There are much better things for me to peek at.” He stuck out his chin and angled for a glimpse down her dress.
Not one to deny this particular Peeping Tom, she pressed her arms against her sides to increase the cleavage. He groaned in her ear and said, “We might have to find another field.”
She scooted closer to his warm, inviting body. “Won’t that make you late to the bridge?” Abandoned for decades, he’d told her about the vintage covered bridge almost ready to carry travelers again.
“Some things are worth being late for.”
Her toes curled at the sound of his quiet, flirtatious voice. And her heart skipped a beat at his answer.
When was the last time someone had put her first?
Never.
Chapter Nine
“My dad knows?” Charlie put the lid down on the toilet seat and sat on the cold, hard surface. Elbow on knee, forehead in the palm of her hand, she barely noticed the opulent bathroom in the suite at the Four Seasons.
“I’m sorry,” Ashley said into the phone. “I popped into the office for one quick minute after business hours and he caught me at my desk. Scared the life out of me. Your father moves like a ninja.”
“He’s furious.”
She heard Ash take a breath before answering. “Yes, but I calmed him down.”
“Not according to the numerous missed calls and texts I’ve received in the last hour demanding I get in touch with him. What am I going to say to make this okay?”
“Wait until you get home, when the story’s done, so he can see the pride on your face. William Malloy, the head honcho at World Heritage Fund called your dad yesterday to say how pleased Connor Gibson was with the interview and that the reporter knew her stuff.”
“My dad thought he was talking about you.”
“Yes, but as soon as I explained what happened, he got very quiet and sort of introspective. It was rather nice.”
Charlie closed her eyes. “That’s the look he gives when he’s madder than hell and deciding what punishment to dish out.”
“Oh. Damn. Still, he’s got to give you credit for what you’ve done, and if he’s too blind to see it, then you should—”
“Quit.”
“I was going to say tell him to take you more seriously.”
“Did he even ask how you were?”
“He…” Charlie pictured Ash pacing around their townhouse in thought. “He did not.”
“That’s shitty. You’re one of his reporters not to mention my best friend.”
“Your dad has never been the sentimental type. I didn’t take offense.”
Charlie dragged in a breath. “I do. He’s selfish and it makes me so mad. I’m done, Ash. I’m tired of trying to please him. This week has been incredible. I proved to myself I could do this, but more importantly I discovered that my dreams are worth pursuing.”
“I’m glad you finally see that.” Quiet filled the phone line for a few seconds. “Did they put something special in the Route 66 water because you’ve got gumption, girl. Well, more than normal.”
Not in the water, in her life. She’d shown Connor more of her drawings, shared her dreams, and he’d said he believed in her.
“Let’s hope it sees me through telling Connor the truth.”
“How is Mr. Hottie Environmentalist? I finally googled him and I may have licked my computer screen.”
Charlie laughed, happy to lighten the conversation. “You really are feeling better.” She stood and stretched her legs. A long soak in the whirlpool tub would fix her achy muscles.
“How can I not be when my mom is plying me with chicken noodle soup and babying me like I’m six years old. Did I tell you she bought me one of those activity books that has connect the dots and mazes in it?”
“No.”
“There’s a Disney princess on the cover,” Ashley deadpanned.
“Oh, which one?”
“I. Don’t. Know. But thank God you’ll be home tomorrow.”
Charlie glanced in the mirror and smiled at the ice-cream stain on her dress. She’d wanted a bite from Connor’s spoon and caught him by surprise when grabbing his hand. They’d gotten into a mini food fight after that, fingers, mouths, and noses all part of the action until the very serious shop owner cleared his throat and raised his thick eyebrows.
“I’ll pick you up from the airport and we’ll go Dumpster diving for dinner.”
“Sounds good.”
“Charlize Beckett!” Ash shouted.
“Ow.” She put some space between her ear and the phone. “What are you yelling about?”
“You zoned out on me.”
Charlie turned and leaned against the marble vanity. “For a second,” she relented. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?” Ding dong. “Dammit, the doorbell just rang. Which means my mom is here with more soup. I’m going to drown in my sleep from all this liquid.”
“Hang in there, and I’ll bake you some banana bread tomorrow night.”
“This conversation isn’t over. Please call me later if you need to talk about Connor.”
“I will. Thanks, Ash. Bye.”
“Banana bread!” Ashley shouted before hanging up.
If only all the world’s problems could be solved with a loaf of baked bread. Charlie opened the bathroom door and walked into the living area. “Hey.”
“Hey. Everything okay?” Connor rose from the couch. His feet were bare, his hair in sexy disarray. The gleaming crystal chandelier above his head cast a soft glow as the sun set outside the floor-to-ceiling window behind him.
“Yeah.” She slipped out of her shoes and padded over to the sofa across from him.
“Liar.” He sat back down, a knowing glint in those too beautiful eyes. He’d heard her phone ring and texts sound numerous times in the car. “Get over here.”
“Sorry?”
“Get that cute ass of yours over here.” He patted the spot beside him.
Without thought—she was so tired of thinking—she plopped her butt next to his. “I should tell you—”
He shifted so his hands were on her shoulders, his thumbs pressing into her tension spots. “How about I work out some of this stress for you?”
Her head fell forward. “If you must.”
He rubbed and kneaded, and her neck and upper back rejoiced. Relaxed. If he even thought about stopping, she’d have to…do something. She couldn’t come up with anything at the moment. Not when even the muscles in her head went slack.
“You know, this hotel really wasn’t necessary,” she murmured. “I’m happy to stay anywhere with you.”
“I know. That’s what makes it even better.”
The suite was gorgeous with its hardwood floors, mahogany furnishings, and botanical art. There was also a work area, a dining room, and a full kitchen.“Connor, there’s something I need to tell—ooohhh that feels good right there.” His hands massaged a little lower. She’d be a puddle on the floor after this.
“Back rubs don’t work if your mind is racing. Relax. Tell me later.”
She stayed quiet for a minute. “Thanks for calling your boss and mentioning me.”
“Doing a little undercover work, huh?” He kissed the side of her neck. “Bill knew about my hesitation and I wanted to let him know what a great week it’s been.”
“It’s been incredible. Your passion for your work is inspiring. And seeing what you’ve done, I can only imagine the amazing sites all around the world that are restored because of you.”
“Thanks for helping me slow down to enjoy it more,” he whispered and she inwardly smiled, happy that the guy she’d gotten into a car with fi
ve days ago had changed some, too.
His hands continued to work their magic as the last beam of sunlight disappeared. Tranquility and warmth filled the room. Everything between them felt so natural. Effortless and dare she think, right. Fun, too, when he dropped his guard. Had he ever let his defenses down before? She imagined he had to be wary of women because of his name and money. To a certain extent, she knew the feeling. And she understood his desire for independence.
“Let’s grab something to eat,” he said.
“Does that mean this massage is coming to an end?” she teased.
“Just an intermission.” His hands slipped around her sides to her belly and he brought her flush against him, his chin on her shoulder. “I can think of a few other places I’d like to massage later.”
She turned her head so her lips grazed his jaw. “Okay, then. But no way should we leave this room and that kitchen. Think it’s stocked?”
“You like to cook?” He nuzzled the spot behind her ear that tickled and tingled if he so much as breathed on it.
“I like to bake. I’ve had a few incidences when trying to cook.” She really didn’t want to move out of his arms, but his stomach grumbled. “I think together we can manage something. Come on.”
He followed on her heels and she felt a rush of power from her head to her toes. Mr. Control seemed to slip when she put a little extra swish in her walk.
Charlie opened the fridge. Too stunned to say anything, she stared.
“I called ahead just in case,” Connor said, nudging her out of the way. “We’ve got baked herb-crusted chicken, roasted potatoes, asparagus, strawberries and,” he winked, “a little something for dessert.”
She sighed and watched him turn on the oven and put the chicken and potatoes in. He uncovered the glass dish with the asparagus and pinched one stalk with his fingers. “I think we eat this cold,” he said. Then he moved around the room and pulled out plates, utensils, and napkins. “You gonna stay quiet the rest of the night, Goldilocks?”
The little something for dessert had her mind in a tizzy. At least a dozen Violet Crumbles were stacked inside the refrigerator. Staying quiet seemed like a good idea since she was having a hard time processing this latest gesture. And when her thoughts got jumbled, well, she often blurted out the wrong thing.
Things like I love you. Which was ridiculous. She liked Connor. A lot. But love? She’d gushed those three little words twice before and both times had been a huge error in judgment. She thought if she said it first, she’d hear it back. Wrong.
She stepped between his legs and gently laid her hands on either side of his neck. In his eyes she saw compassion and generosity. And maybe…maybe something more, but she didn’t want to be wrong about it so pushed it away. She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. Kissed his eyelid when he blinked. Found his cheek next, then his jaw, his earlobe. With each tender touch, his breathing slowed.
When her mouth met the corner of his, he wrapped his arms around her waist and eliminated any space between them. “Let’s have dessert first,” she whispered.
He angled his head to capture her kiss full on. “You got it.”
They kissed and kissed and kissed some more. His tongue curled around hers, each swipe light, sensual, like they had all the time in the world.
“Take a seat,” he said when she ended the kiss. “And watch and learn.”
“You have a special way of unwrapping a candy bar?” She hopped up onto the counter, her legs dangling so she could drum the fancy wood drawers with her heels.
“Dessert is a little more than that.” He found a cutting board, grabbed two Violet Crumbles, the strawberries, and—oh dear Lord—a container of vanilla ice cream from the freezer. “Tell me about your kitchen disasters.”
“Um, let’s see. There was the time I blew up a pot of instant mashed potatoes all over the stove. And the time when I made baked potatoes, and they came out so perfect, looking crispy and a little burned on the outside. But the rest of dinner wasn’t ready so I put them on the counter and covered them with a dishtowel to keep them warm. The towel got a little too close to the candle I had burning and it caught on fire. I dumped water over it, but the cabinet above was charred and my potatoes were ruined.”
Connor chuckled. “Sounds like you should stay away from potatoes.” He looked up from the cutting board where he’d chopped up the candy bars and now sliced the strawberries. “Keep that sweet body of yours right where it is.”
“Yes, sir.” Her cheeks grew ridiculously warm.
“Any other foods I should save from you?”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Save that for later. So?”
“Eggs. Well, don’t ask me to hard boil them.” She let out a sigh remembering what a disaster her attempt at egg salad had been. “I’d never made them before and followed my roommate’s instructions of bringing the pan of eggs to a boil and then turning down the temp to low for a few minutes. Then I went back to my room to finish a story. Only I didn’t remember the eggs. About a half hour later I heard what sounded like gunfire and freaked. But because I’d like to think I could be kick-ass, I ran down the hall to the kitchen. Luckily, I only found that the pot had boiled dry. The buildup of heat had popped the eggshells and rocketed them across the room.”
Connor threw his head back and laughed.
God, he took handsome to a new level when he found something funny. And his contagious laugh filled a room like the happiest melody. She cracked up right along with him. “Our kitchen smelled like rotten eggs for days.”
He finished scooping the ice cream into bowls and topping them with the honeycomb pieces and sliced strawberries. “Live and learn, right?” His shirt stretched across his back as he reached into the fridge. She gave a quiet sigh of appreciation.
And a sigh of bliss when he pulled out chocolate syrup and poured it over the ice-cream creations. He handed a bowl and spoon to her, grabbed his, and joined her atop the counter. Their legs brushed. The backs of her knees tickled in the best possible way.
Nothing had prepared her for such a perfect moment.
She dug into the dessert. The cold, sweet goodness filled her mouth, slid down her throat. A tiny, but drawn out “mmm” followed.
“I’ll take that as approval,” Connor said.
“It’s o-kay,” Charlie teased.
“Here.” He took a spoonful from his bowl and fed it to her. “I kept the outstanding one for myself.” One corner of his mouth lifted.
He watched her as she ate the bite. He’d done that a lot this week—paid her quiet attention.
“You’re right, you meanie! Yours is sick. Gimme.” She smirked and traded bowls with him, loving the look of amusement on his face at her goading.
He slid off the counter, put his bowl to the side, and settled between her legs. “To get the full outstanding effect I need to feed it to you.”
She handed him her bowl, spread her legs a little wider, and draped her arms around his neck. “But won’t yours melt?”
“We’ll get to it next.” He slipped a bite between her lips.
A shiver that had nothing to do with the ice cream and everything to do with Connor stole its way down her spine.
“If you weren’t in heritage protection, what would you be?” she asked. Her fingers played with the soft hair that lightly brushed his shirt collar.
“An architect,” he said without hesitating. He fed her another spoonful, his gaze on her mouth. “I’d work on the world’s tallest buildings.”
“What swayed you?” Her lips parted when he used the pad of his thumb to wipe the corner of her mouth.
“An environmental studies professor I had in college.” He took a huge bite from the bowl.
“Hey, mister.” She swiped at his hand and the spoon clinked his teeth. “No bites allowed.”
He put the bowl down. “Really? None? Not even here?” He leaned in and nibbled her earlobe.
“Maybe there.”
“W
hat about here?” Lovely vibrations danced across her skin as his mouth hopped to the curve of her neck and then down to her shoulder. He sank his teeth in with just the right amount of pressure. She squirmed.
“There is okay, too.”
“Do you have another assignment waiting when you get back to LA?” he asked out of the blue. He dropped a kiss to her collarbone and then lifted his head to pierce her with intense dark eyes.
“Umm…” Did she? She didn’t think so. But even if she did, she didn’t want to work for her father anymore. “No. I don’t believe I do.”
“Then stay with me another week, Goldilocks.”
Chapter Ten
When Charlie mentioned a blindfold, Connor had imagined things going a little different than this. They’d had an amazing time together the past five days, talking for hours, laughing, getting sideways every chance they got. He’d liked Charlie, the reporter, a lot more than he thought he would. But Charlie not in reporter mode took his breath away. Now, the last night before they arrived at McCall and Lucy’s house, he’d hoped to spend it getting a naked workout with her.
Instead, she’d put him in the car and taken the one silk tie he’d brought to wear to the rehearsal dinner and covered his eyes. No peeking, she’d whispered, and he’d obliged for the fifteen-minute car ride. And relax, she added.
That proved to be more difficult. Having her drive when he could see was one thing. Trusting her when he couldn’t, quite another. He hated feeling vulnerable. But the second she’d taken his hand, everything inside him calmed down. He’d agreed to be blindfolded because he did trust Goldilocks.
His last visual had been mountains bumpy and scarlet against the ruddy Colorado sunset.
He had no idea where they’d arrived, only that they were outside and her hurried pace and firm grip on his hand meant they were late for something. Since he couldn’t see anything, he kept picturing Charlie’s smooth bare skin all laid out for him to feast on. He couldn’t get enough of her.
He’d definitely face an inquisition during the wedding festivities. McCall and Lucy hadn’t minded the last-minute request to bring a date, but Connor sensed that was because they were more curious than put out.
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