by Cindi Madsen
She crossed her arms. “I don’t respond to ‘come ’ere.’”
He shot out his arm, gripped the waistband of her shorts, and yanked her to him. She fell onto his lap and he kissed her hard on the mouth. “I want you. I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you in the bar. But I’m not a mistake. And until you get that through your pretty head, I’m not sleeping with you.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Seriously? All your innuendos and flirting, and now you’re saying no?”
“I’m saying not yet.” He moved his lips to her neck, dragging them across her soft skin to the spot under her ear. She was trying to keep an unaffected front, but her shallow breath gave her away. “Not when you’re only doing it because you’ve had a rough day.”
Something in her seemed to break, and— Oh shit, she’s going to cry again. If this was what he got for trying to be sensitive to how she was feeling, he might have to reasess this plan of attack.
She moved off his lap onto the couch cushions and let her head fall back. “You’re right. I’d only feel better for a little while.” He was about to break in and say that it’d be a long while, but stopped himself when he saw the tears gathering in her eyes. “When I saw her on the floor, and the blood—but she’s okay. The baby’s okay.” It seemed like she needed to say it aloud to know it was true.
Connor took her hand and brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “They’re both going to be fine. You did a great job getting there in time.”
She nodded, over and over, almost on autopilot. “And we can deal with bedrest. I can watch Ella and do the cooking, cleaning, and whatever else she needs.” Her determined expression faltered. “Except for… Well, I don’t really know how to take care of a kid full-time. She cries a lot, and I usually hand her over to her mom when that happens. I’m good at nail-painting and makeup, but I don’t know when she eats or what she eats, or how to make sure she eats.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll help. We got this.”
“We?” she asked, turning her eyes on him.
And now he was thinking he was an idiot for not taking things further all over again. He leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. “We. I’m gonna help you, Blondie.”
After a moment she exhaled a long breath. “Okay, I’m sure I’m gonna need it. And Kaleb can tell me how to take care of Ella. Anna, too. I’ll ask her to write out instructions and schedules and such when she can.”
Connor wished she hadn’t brought up her brother. He wanted to be the vailant guy who always did the right thing, but he also wanted to be the guy who got to be with Faith, and right now, those two things seemed to be at odds. Maybe he could show Kaleb that he could have a long-term realtionship with her. A twinge of panic shot through his chest—that was a lot of pressure, and he didn’t normally think about the future, not like this.
He only knew something had been missing in his life, and whenever he was around Faith, it went away. But she was his best friend’s sister and one of his heroes’ daughter—she couldn’t be a hook-up, and if things didn’t work out, it would be a big deal, not something he could easily walk away from. But before he got carried away, he needed to focus on one day at a time. Tonight, he wanted Faith to know everything was going to be okay, and prove he was interested in a real relationship.
She leaned her head on his shoulder and everything inside him turned warm and squishy. “You’re a good guy when it comes down to it, Connor Maguire.”
Holy hellfire, he’d never been so turned on by a woman saying his name.
“Don’t get me wrong, your ego’s still way too big. And your pickup lines are just awful…” She tilted her head up and flashed him a smile. “But I guess you’re not a complete meat-head.”
He laughed. “Any more compliments from you, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to recover my ego.”
“I’m not worried. You’ve got quite a backup supply.”
He curled her into him and leaned back against the couch cushions, enjoying the little sigh that escaped her lips as she used his chest for a pillow. He wondered if she could hear how hard his heart was beating. They were both nearly asleep when the doorbell rang and their damn double-onion pizza arrived, making him curse himself again for mentioning food in the first place.
Chapter Eleven
Faith was glad she and Connor hadn’t gone too far last night. She was. Totally.
She wasn’t still contemplating why he put her to higher standards when he clearly had no problem with casual sex. Or wondering if it would’ve been as good as she thought it’d be, considering she’d never gotten quite that carried away with a kiss before.
“Auntie Faith?”
Faith sat up in bed, squinting against the harsh light. It was the second time Ella had come into her room this morning—if four a.m. was considered morning. She thought it qualified as night still, AKA the time when people should be sleeping, but Ella had needed chocolate milk and the bathroom and she couldn’t find her princess doll, and couldn’t they do makeup again?
The day had barely begun, and Faith wanted to go back to bed. But she needed to be there for her niece, as well as Anna and Kaleb. So she was going to be the best babysitting/cooking/whatever-she-needed-to-do-to-help auntie ever.
“How ’bout we start with breakfast?” Faith asked, clapping her hands to try to get herself excited as well as Ella.
After pouring Ella a bowl of Lucky Charms, Faith glanced out the window at the lake. Crap. How am I supposed to go for my run when I can’t leave Ella? Mrs. Ferguson had offered to help, but Faith didn’t want to abuse the offer, and she supposed it wasn’t like she’d be able to drastically improve her time all that much over the next week and a half anyway.
Faith glanced at the kitchen, noticing how dirty it was. She’d used the last of the milk for Ella’s cereal, which meant grocery shopping was at the top of the list—hadn’t they just gone shopping? She shook her head, re-focusing. She decided to start on the dishes.
“Morning,” a deep male voice said, and she dropped the bowl in her hand. It hit the sink and broke apart.
Faith put a hand on her rapidly beating heart and looked over at Kaleb. “I didn’t know you were here. Scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry, I just came in.” He pulled his shoulder blades together and his back cracked. “Sleeping in a chair all night was rough. Didn’t actually get much sleep.”
“How’s Anna this morning?”
“She’s feeling a lot better. The doctor was going to swing by and check her, and then they might let her come home. But she’s under strict orders to stay in bed. The first thing she said was, ‘But I can’t miss the festival. Surely I’ll be better by next weekend,’ and the doctor told her it wasn’t an option, even if her contractions stop. So she’s bummed about missing it after all of her work to get the park and her pottery ready for it, but she realizes it’s not worth hurting the baby.” Kaleb leaned against the counter and rubbed at his bloodshot eyes. “Thank you for taking care of her yesterday. And Ella.”
Faith dropped the broken bowl in the trash under the sink. “Of course. Whatever you need, just let me know.”
“I could use a few more hours of sleep if that’s okay. Connor texted to say he took care of covering my shift, so I won’t have to go back into work until tomorrow. I know Ella’s a handful, though, so if you need he—”
“You go rest. I got this.”
…
Faith so did not have this. Ella had leapt out of the cart onto her three times, slamming her forehead into Faith’s chin on the last one. Faith kept buckling her in, but the dang kid knew how to Houdini her way out, no matter how tightly she belted her in.
At least she’d made sure everything was in place for the festival with some help from the other members of the committee—they might’ve been slacking lately, but when they found out about Anna, they’d called an emergency meeting and divvied up everything left on Anna’s to-do list. Of course Mrs. Lowery had volunteered Faith for several thing
s, and when she’d asked who they should give Anna’s booth spot to, Faith had said not to give it away. That she’d be selling the pottery for her sister-in-law.
Faith’s phone chimed with a text. It was Connor, responding to her earlier text asking if he could help haul the pillars, pop-up tent, and pottery to the festival.
Sure. Whatever you need.
She let out a breath. At least that was taken care of. Except she still wasn’t sure how exactly it’d work. She stared at the screen and then made an impulse decision.
Come over tonight so we can figure it out? I’m making dinner. It was probably a bad idea, especially since Kaleb had told her to forget about Connor just yesterday. But that was before Anna was put on bed rest. In order to pull off taking over the pottery booth last minute, she’d need help—Kaleb would understand that. She might have to resist the urge to kiss Connor again, but she could do that.
She was relatively sure.
I’ll be there as soon as I get off work.
Faith grinned and glanced at Ella. “We better find something good to make for dinner. Good, but easy.” She pushed the cart to the next aisle and grabbed a jar of Alfredo sauce. When Ella started to stand, Faith held her in place with one hand while reaching for a box with the other. “How do you even know which damn kind of pasta you need?”
“Damn!” Ella yelled, gaining the attention of everyone. The nearby adults glared at Faith, channeling their disdain straight into her with their frosty stares.
Of all the words she’d said, why did Ella pick up that one? Faith changed her mind about the macaroni pasta, and decided to go for the cute bowtie ones.
“You really shouldn’t let her stand like that,” a woman said as she neared, her child sitting in the front, eyes glazed over like she’d been plied with Nyquil.
Is it okay to do that? Not that she would, but she got how it might be tempting.
Ella was standing again, her foot propped on the handle of the cart, because Faith had let go of her for two seconds. “Sit down,” Faith said and her niece grinned and sat down. Faith’s arms ached from everything she’d done today, which made her feel like a total wimp, but after scrubbing the house and catching Ella approximately one hundred times, she was tired and wanted to get the shopping done and get out of here.
Faith surveyed the ingredients in her cart. She’d spent most of her college years living off take-out and ready-made food. She supposed now was as good a time as any to learn how to cook. How hard could it be?
…
When Faith swung open the door, warmth flooded Connor’s chest.
“She hasn’t slept,” Faith said instead of offering a greeting. “In fact, she hasn’t stopped moving since this morning. She took a permanent marker to the bathroom and to her face. I tried to scrub it off, but she’s so squirmy, and that’s before you add water and soap. I think I got more water on me out of the tub, than she did in it.” Faith ran a hand through her hair and kept it on top of her head. “She doesn’t stop.”
Connor stepped inside. “Where’s the little tornado now?”
“Probably destroying something, but I don’t want to know, because she’s not crying and she’s locked in the house, so at least there’s that.”
Ella sprinted into the room, her curly hair matted and blue marker covering her arms and cheeks. She ran toward him and he lifted her and tossed her in the air. She giggled and squealed, “Again!”
Faith’s eyes followed the motion and then she sighed. “I don’t know how I can do this day in and out for the next month or so. I suck at it.”
Ella giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. He made a funny face at her and she clapped her hands, asking for another one.
Faith frowned. “Seriously, how are you better at taking care of her than me?”
He should be offended, but he could sense her exasperation. “One, I haven’t been with her all day, and two, I’m used to it. Just imagine four more running at you at once.”
Faith’s eyes widened so large he had to bite back a laugh. He wrapped his arm around her waist, hooking his hand on her hip. “You’ve got this. And now I’m here to help, so put me to work.”
“If you’ve got the rugrat, I’ll start dinner.”
Connor took Ella to the kitchen and got her Goldfish crackers, tossing back handfuls as he watched Faith move around the kitchen.
“So,” Faith said, “today I was thinking…”
Connor perked up, hoping she was about to finally give in and admit she liked him.
“Kids are so much work,” Faith continued. “If she were a wolf, she’d be hunting age by now. If wolves can figure it out, surely we humans can think of something.”
Connor glanced at Ella. “You wanna be a wolf?”
Ella howled.
“Looks like she’s good to go.” He raised his hand and Ella gave him a high five. Then she used her nose to scoot crackers toward him. He picked up a couple, but she put her hand over his, stopping him from lifting them to his mouth.
“Wolf. See.” She ate her crackers off the table without using her hands.
Connor glanced at Faith, shrugged, and then ate the Goldfish off the table. He was pretty sure there was jelly mixed in there, too, and he had no idea how old it was. Faith smiled at the two of them, and he winked at her. Her smile grew, bringing out the slight dimple in her cheek. The stress of the day seemed to fall off her, and Connor couldn’t wait until he got to kiss those perfect lips again.
She lifted a box of pasta, squinted at the back, then leaned down to get something out of a cupboard. Her shirt rode up as her pants lowered a couple of inches. A tiny swirled four-leaf clover peeked out on the right side of her back. How did he miss that the night they were swimming? Probably because it’d been dark and he’d been focused on the front of her body. On most girls, a tattoo was hot. On Faith, it was so unexpectedly hot that he tipped back his chair and ran his finger across it. She jerked up and shot him a look over her shoulder.
And all it did was made him want to kiss her more.
An Irish girl with an Irish temper, though? He worked hard to keep his temper in check all the time, careful to always stay in control. He’d come close to losing it on a few cases—the Corbett one included. He didn’t want to ever use his temper as an excuse, the way Dad used to. Instead, he learned other ways to get out his frustrations, like running and lifting. But with how stubborn Faith was, and with how easy it was to get into arguments with her, he’d have to watch himself even more. Always be under control.
Suddenly he was questioning if dating her was a good idea all over again.
His chair legs came back down, jolting him harder than he expected. He’d barely recovered when he was pelted in the side of the face with orange crackers, a couple of them nice and slimy. Faith laughed and then covered her mouth with her hand. But it was too late. Ella thought it was hilarious and launched another attack. She tossed a handful at Faith before he could take away the ammunition.
Ella screeched, big tears forming in her eyes. He picked her up and she wailed right in his ear. He tossed her in the air and caught her, but it didn’t work this time. So much for being good at this.
“I think she’s cranky, since she refused to take a nap,” Faith said. “See, if she were a wolf, I bet she’d put herself to sleep.”
Ella didn’t howl this time—well, not like a wolf, anyway. The tears and wailing escalated. But he could feel her body slacken in his arms. He gently pressed her head to his shoulder and bounced her. “I’ll see if I can’t get her to fall asleep.”
Connor moved into the living room and hummed. When it seemed to relax her, he went ahead and sang “Stella Stellina,” a song his mom used to always sing, and still used on her grandkids when she was trying to get them to drift off.
A couple weeks ago, he would’ve laughed if someone told him this would be his idea of a great night. But he pictured Faith in the kitchen, cooking, and it was so much better than another meal at the Rusty Anchor or ev
en grabbing a beer with the guys. And if he could get this tired little girl to fall asleep, he might actually get a couple of minutes alone with the woman who’d been on his mind since the minute he woke up that morning.
…
The guy was singing a lullaby in a different language—Faith was pretty sure it was Italian. Seriously? How was she supposed to resist that? It was like someone mixed all the right ingredients for the perfect guy. If only they didn’t leave out fidelity. Maybe that was unfair. She kept comparing the way he’d admitted to not being good at relationships to the way Jeff had said basically the same thing, as if she could sift out the truth from the lies if she focused hard enough.
Connor’s back was to her, and Ella’s eyes drifted farther closed with every bounce and word of his song. A tingly mix of attraction and affection pumped through Faith’s veins. Usually she worked to keep her emotions calm—on the surface, at least—but lately they were rising up, impossible to hide. Especially around Connor. He’d helped her out a ton this week, proving there was much more to him than good looks and charm. But she worried she was relying on him too much, growing too attached.
She’d feel better taking a chance if Kaleb hadn’t warned her away.
Still, she’d never experienced such an intense connection in such a short amount of time before, and he didn’t dance around the truth like Jeff had. He told it to her straight, from his attraction to her to his lack of relationship skills. He’d definitely be an adventure, if not a happily ever after.
The hiss of water hitting the burner interrupted her thoughts, and she rushed back to the stove. The pasta water was frothy and spewing over. “Crap.” She turned down the burner and read the instructions again. She’d done exactly what it said. The Alfredo sauce was boiling, large bursts splattering over the pan, onto the stove. She moved it off and frowned when she saw the bottom half of the chicken in the other pan was beyond brown, much closer to black.
Wasn’t blackened chicken a dish, though? She’d just pretend it was supposed to be that way. She slid the pieces into the Alfredo sauce—at least she knew it’d be good, since she’d bought it instead of attempting to make it from scratch. Why go to all that trouble when Ragu had done it for you?