He just had to figure out how to bring it up…without scaring her off. He busied himself in work for the remainder of the morning, letting the mental sludge of the situation settle around him until he was ready to dive in head first.
His palms were sweaty as he swiped open his phone and navigated to Bernadette’s number. You’re in your thirties, and calling a girl still makes you nervous. Well done, old chap. Did dating ever become easy? It seemed a serious impossibility that he could ever make it through the early stage of a relationship without damp palms and incessant second guessing.
Bernadette picked up on the fourth ring, just as Connall’s anxiety kicked into overdrive. But at the first sound of her husky voice, Connall relaxed, a grin overtaking his face.
“Bernadette. I hope this isn’t a bad time. I’ve just been dying to hear your voice again since I last saw you.”
4
Bernadette couldn’t stop the butterflies taking up residence in her belly. Connall’s voice was like dark honey, and she never wanted to stop tasting it.
“You know how to brighten a girl’s Monday,” she said, swallowing a squeal. She rose from the leather arm chair she’d been lounging in, excusing herself from her father’s home office. He sent her a quizzical look as she quietly departed. They’d been in the middle of a meeting, but Connall was more important. Even though she knew better than to pick up his call when she was leaving for Montana in three days.
“I’ve been wanting to call since approximately fifteen minutes after I dropped you off on Saturday, but you know, social decorum.”
She laughed into the heel of her hand, looking out the front window without really seeing anything. “Your restraint is admirable.”
“It didn’t last long.” Connall sighed through the phone. She could almost see his light blue eyes dancing with mischief. “Bernadette, I want to see you again.”
She fought a grin. Somehow, it seemed terribly childish to get so excited over a guy like Connall. Her rational, career-minded side knew it was headed nowhere, and that side of her liked to rule with a yardstick against the knuckles at times.
“Oh? What would a second date with you entail? You’ve already set the bar so high with the first one.”
“Whatever you want, my dear,” he purred.
Shivers raced up her spine. Three days. Three days in Seattle. It was foolish to even consider seeing him again. “I was hoping for a helicopter ride to Alaska.” She tried to think of something even more ostentatious than a private serenading on a multimillion-dollar instrument. “Or maybe we could stop by the pyramids at Giza.”
His low chuckle sent thrills through her. “I could organize either of those, if you wanted.”
“Or maybe I just want a good old-fashioned hamburger at a diner.”
“Your wish is my command.”
It was too sexy when he talked like that. Especially with the accent. “Then okay. I’m all yours. But it has to be soon.”
“Is tomorrow night soon enough?”
She grinned. “Definitely not. I thought you’d offer to come pick me up now, honestly.”
“I would, but I’m at work, and I already booked a business dinner this evening.” He paused. “But trust me…if I could, I’d already be on my way to your house.”
She pinched her eyes shut, fighting off another wave of giddiness. Too much. He was too much. “I guess that makes me feel better then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After they hung up, Bernadette hung suspended in time, staring out the window at the sloping lawn of her parents’ house, unable to move for fear of waking up. Someone like Connall was the stuff of dreams. A bona fide Prince Charming with good looks, money, and an impossibly magnetic personality.
Too bad he’ll run once he finds out what you do…
She cleared her throat, straightening her back before returning to her father in his office. She could gush about Connall later. For now, she had work to do. Her father had generously agreed to help her put together a new proposal for securing two hundred extra acres of protected land for use by the sanctuary, which would double its current size and significantly expand the scope of her research. His help was crucial in getting her proposals into shape for future donors.
“Who was that?” Her father’s severe gaze felt like a reprimand when she stepped back into his office.
“Someone I’ve been seeing,” she said, heat creeping into her neck. Were she and Connall seeing each other?
“Hm.” Her father perused the papers covering almost every square inch of his sprawling wood desk. “Is he involved with the sanctuary?”
“No, actually.” She paused, smoothing away a wrinkle in her pants as she considered telling her father exactly who had been on the other end of the phone. “But you do know him.”
“Do I?” He glanced up, his eyes narrowing. “Anyone I should be made aware of?”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Connall Beaumont. He was at the restaurant the other night, when we met for dinner.”
Her father’s face turned stony, and he didn’t move for an interminably long time. When he finally spoke, he said, “Are you serious?”
Ice coated her stomach, just as if she were sixteen all over again. “Yes. Why?”
“Connall is not a good idea,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I’d love for you to date more and finally find your dream man, Bernadette, but I can tell you right away Connall will break your heart.”
She held up a hand to stop him in his track. “Dad. We’re not getting married. We’re not even cohabitating. We’re simply talking.”
He huffed. “He’s not the man for you. You’re wasting your time.”
She crossed her legs, picking at non-existent lint on her knee. Her father was able to rankle her unlike anyone else in life, and it was exactly this superior, holier-than-everyone tone that triggered her. “I’m not wasting any of my time, thank you. I’m more than capable of deciding who to spend my time with, and it’s never a waste. Even if it doesn’t end in a relationship, I’m allowed to just talk to somebody if I want. Why shouldn’t I spend time with whomever I want?”
Her father opened his mouth to interject, but she shook her head. “I don’t want to hear anymore. I shouldn’t have said anything. I thought I’d bring it up because he mentioned his family had worked with you previously, but if your only goal is to tell me why yet another man isn’t good enough for me, then let’s just drop it.”
His nostrils flared, an expression of thinly veiled restraint crossing his face. This would always be a thorn in her side: his judgment and need for control.
Silence settled between them, the ticking of a nearby clock the only sound daring to break the tension. After a moment, her father shifted, his seat creaking beneath him.
“Just stay away from that family,” he said, re-immersing himself in the papers. She groaned, throwing her hands up in the air.
“Just couldn’t leave it alone, huh? Had to include a cryptic warning too?” She rubbed at her face, reminding herself to focus on the work at hand. No need to start a fight with dad just because he was the same person he’d always been. “Please, let’s just forget it.”
Besides, anything her father had to add was irrelevant. Surely his information was tainted by the biases of his profession, and furthermore, Bernadette didn’t even care. Connall was a good time, a pretty firework in the night sky of her life, and dinner—or pyramid—dates didn’t need to end in marriage or perfect compatibility to be worth her time.
She was going to see Connall again, enjoy it, and just let it be that.
“Now.” Her father shuffled papers on his desk, looking pleased with himself. “Where were we?”
5
Connall jingled some change in his pockets, pacing the foyer of the trendy lounge he and Bernadette agreed to meet at. He checked his watch for the fourth time: just after five thirty. He’d suggested drinks and then dinner after some more brainstorming with her, opting to take her to a more casual place than
the first time. Though she joked about opulence and money, he didn’t want to scare her off by going too grand.
The fact that he was worried about scaring her off scared even him. What if the side he showed her was too opulent, too rich, or maybe too easygoing, or even too something else? Anything could be a misstep without realizing it, and the fact that he cared so much felt like a signal.
Bernadette was easily the most gorgeous woman he’d laid eyes on. But he still didn’t know that much about her, other than who her father was. Their first date had come and gone in a dreamlike blur, but now he needed to learn more about who she was. If she was actually someone he should pursue seriously.
He spent another few moments pacing before Bernadette breezed through the front doors of the lounge, looking a bit lost. A long black trench coat billowed back, showcasing a simple green dress that hugged her body. Connall smiled, heading toward her with open arms.
“Bernadette. You made it.” He pulled her into a quick hug, one that allowed him another whiff of that intoxicating vetiver. She squeezed his arms, smiling brightly at him, lips glossed and begging for a kiss.
“Of course. I’m not in the habit of standing up men who have promised me unlimited mint juleps,” she cracked.
“Oh, was that the trick?” He pressed his hand to the small of her back, guiding them toward an open couch facing a wall of windows, overlooking the busy Seattle street. “I’ll have to remember to include that as bait every time I invite you out.”
“You don’t need to bait me,” she said, settling into her spot. “Your accent does all the heavy lifting for you.”
He laughed, settling in beside her. She leaned toward him, close enough that he could feel the heat of her. “I had no idea it was so potent.”
“More potent than you can imagine,” she said, her eyes flashing. He slung his arm over the back of the couch, running his thumb over the top of her arm.
“You’re giving a decent man some very indecent ideas,” he murmured, his chest tightening. And that was putting it mildly. He loved the idea of being the respectable gentleman in the streets, but when it came to getting between the sheets, all of that flew out the door. He had a list already of things he’d like to do to this woman. The ways in which he would explore her.
Bernadette’s cheeks flushed, letting him know his comment hit exactly where he’d intended. A waiter sidled up to them for drink orders. Bernadette ordered a mint julep, and he asked for a whisky neat.
“So,” she began, once the waiter left, “my father wasn’t so happy to find out I’ve been seeing you.”
His brows shot up. “You told him?”
“I thought he should know, if your family has worked with him before. And, well…” She paused, studying something in the distance. “He was there when you called yesterday. So he knew something was up.”
“He heard you giggling like a schoolgirl,” he teased.
“Exactly. And daddy’s pissed,” she cracked.
“Hm.” He fingered the back of the couch, wondering how much he should reveal. Dale’s request echoed in his head. Now would not be a good time to probe into pissed-off daddy’s legal matters. “Well, I promise I’m a good boy. I won’t hurt daddy’s little girl.”
“Well, he recognized your name.” Bernadette lifted a brow. She was probing now—he could catch the lilt in her voice, the interest behind her words. “Specifically. Did you do something to piss him off?”
Connall’s stomach knotted. This wasn’t a great sign. “Definitely not. I barely know him, to be honest. He was more involved with my grandfather.”
“Ah.” Bernadette fingered a curl, her gaze drifting away. “So, no chance we’re stirring up a lifelong bitter rivalry by talking to each other?”
“I may be British, but I’m sorry to say this family history won’t be rivaling Shakespeare for drama,” Connall said, squeezing her shoulder. Better to just divert…especially because she seemed clueless about her father’s relationship to the Beaumont family. “Unless you’d like me to make up some sort of dastardly past.”
She giggled, swatting at his arm. “If you do, make it good. Something we can sell to Hollywood later.”
“Only if you promise to be the screenwriter.” He smiled up at the waiter who appeared with their drinks. He and Bernadette received their drinks and then clinked glasses, never breaking eye contact. After a sip, Connall said, “So tell me, Bernadette. What on earth do you do?”
“I observe wolves.” She set her drink on the coffee table in front of the couch, a sly grin on her face.
He laughed. “Oh yes? And what are they up to these days?”
Her smile fell slightly, and he realized she hadn’t been joking.
“They’re surviving. Barely.” She smoothed out a wrinkle in her dress. “I started a wolf sanctuary, where we monitor their habitat and everything involved with it. So, I could give you about five years’ worth of data, if you asked for it.”
He blinked, trying to align this chocolate-eyed beauty in front of him with someone who actually lived with wolves. “Blimey. You’re serious.”
Her smile turned shy. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’ve never met anyone who lives with wolves.”
She laughed, reaching for her drink again. “Well, at least I wasn’t raised by them.”
“No, that’s very obvious.” He paused, sipping at his whisky. “And probably the millionth time you’ve had to tell that joke to someone like me.”
Her eyes glinted as she smiled at him, leaning closer into his open arm. “It’s okay. With someone like you, I don’t mind.” She dragged her tongue over her bottom lip. “Like I said, the accent.”
He lifted a brow, dragging his fingertips over her shoulder, down the side of her arm. Her nearness was the only thing tempering a strange plummet of his stomach at hearing exactly what she did for a living. Lives with wolves. That didn’t sound like something that happened within Seattle proper. “So where do you dance with these wolves? Poor shot at a nineties movie reference.”
Her grin widened. “Montana.”
He tried to mask his surprise. “That’s a bit far.”
“Yes. In fact, I’m only in town to meet with my father.” She sighed, fidgeting with the hem of her dress. “He’s helping me put together proposals to request more investments, so we can double the size of the sanctuary.”
He nodded, unable to look away from the disappointment shuddering through him. Not only did she live away from civilization, she lived far from civilization. Montana might as well be Canada. Living with the wolves certainly didn’t offer up many chances to wine and dine a lady, either.
“How very interesting. Do you live alone out there, or…”
“There’s a small team.” She cleared her throat. “But it’s very lonesome, yes.”
“Do you like it?”
Bernadette hesitated. “Yes. It’s my life’s work. I guess I wanted to get away from people after living in regular society for so long. Now, my vacations are times like these, when I come to the city, interact with regular people.” She paused. “Though I don’t know if I can consider you regular people.”
“I’m regular,” he insisted. “Regularly amazing.”
She snort-laughed. “Agreed.” After a sip at her drink, she said, “And what do you do, Mr. Regularly Amazing?”
“I run a company with my brother, B3 Engines.” He waited for the typical nod of recognition, but she just stared blankly. “It’s a tech engineering company. We make engines for high performance vehicles. Think Formula One race cars and the like.”
Her eyes widened. “Wow.”
He ran his thumb over the swell of her shoulder, unable to shake the feeling of disappointment lurking in the background. He wanted to enjoy this time with her, not waste it by lamenting the fact that she lived in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of wild animals. But somehow, it felt crushing. Like the small glimmer of hope he’d had was officially now squashed.
“You’ve
never heard of it?”
“Nope. But it sounds very interesting.” She offered a smile.
So she hasn’t heard any of the media surrounding our desperate quest to save the company. She must be really out of the loop. And maybe it was for the better. “As does yours. Though it appears we have completely opposite professions.”
She nodded slowly, tucking some hair behind her ear. “Maybe. I’m sure there are more similarities than might meet the eye, though.”
“And here I thought you were living in a high rise downtown, beating off suitors left and right,” Connall said. “Turns out you’ve been in the wild, beating back wolves.”
“Observing,” she reminded him. “No beating back. That would be contrary to my mission.”
“Right.” He dragged his fingertips higher up her shoulder, broaching her collarbone, meeting bare skin. Questions stormed him: how did she live? Was it safe? Rustic? She had to be living amongst more than just wolves out there; didn’t that scare the shit out of her?
“Do you like your work?” Bernadette tilted her head to the side, welcoming his touch further up her neck. He scooted closer, leaning in, their knees brushing.
“I love it.” He ran his thumb over the hollow of her neck, enjoying the goosepimples that flared in his wake. “I have an amazing team of employees. They provide for me, and I provide for them. I get to take care of people who help bring my vision to life. I couldn’t ask for more, really.”
“What a heart of gold you have.” Her eyes fluttered shut briefly. “You love to take care of people.”
“Mm-hmm.” He leaned closer, dipping his fingers under an inch of her dress along her spine. The heat there was tantalizing, made his vision go spotty for a moment. “In all possible ways.”
She hefted with a laugh, dragging her gaze up to meet his. “Careful, there, or you’ll inspire more indecent thoughts. Mr. Decent.”
“I thought I was Mr. Regularly Amazing,” he murmured. Their neglected drinks sat collecting condensation on the table. At this rate, they might not even make it to dinner.
The Beaumont Brothers: The Complete Series Page 23