She’d been spitting mad, but Mom’s cooler head prevailed and Fiona knew she needed to escape. Maybe by the end of the weekend, it will have all blown over and she could go back to her quiet, almost anonymity.
* * *
Connor knew he was being a dick, but he didn’t know why. He suddenly felt crowded, like there wasn’t enough room for him to breath, which was ridiculous since they were surrounded by nothing but trees and air. He settled on a log across from Fiona.
She stood and fisted her hands on her hips. “Why did you invite me if you didn’t want me here?”
“What?”
“You obviously don’t want me here. You’ve barely said two words to me and those I had to pry out.”
“I want you here.”
“Please.”
Although she meant it to sound pissed off, he recognized the exasperated word for what it was. Hurt. He hadn’t wanted that. He stood and walked around the fire to meet her. “I’m being a jerk. I’m sorry. I don’t even know why.”
“Because you don’t want me here. It’s obvious. What I don’t get is why you invited me.”
He held her hand and pulled her toward the log. He sat and tugged her to settle between his legs in front of the fire. With his thighs wrapped around her hips and the scent of her soft curls in his face, he finally relaxed. This was why he’d invited her.
No! The scream resounded in his head. He’d invited her to get information about her family.
“Camping is something I’ve always done alone. Except for Max. I didn’t think about sharing this time with anyone.”
She stiffened in his embrace, so he rubbed his palms down the front of her thighs, willing her to relax.
“When I asked you to come with me, I didn’t think you’d say yes, but I wasn’t hoping for a no either. I asked because I wanted to spend time with you outside of the bedroom and since you’ve refused every date I offered, I figured this would be a compromise.”
Fiona melted against him and his shoulders released some of the tension. “I come out here for peace. It’s my time to decompress. I have to adjust to having someone here, that’s all.”
Her head rested against his shoulder. “You can pretend I’m not here. Draw a line across the middle of the tent. You stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.”
He pushed her hair to the side to expose her neck. “Not gonna happen.”
He kissed her pulse and slid his hands past her coat and under her sweatshirt. Her stomach muscles quivered under his touch.
Then she put her hands on top of his to stop him. “I wasn’t going to say yes.”
She spoke quietly as if confessing.
“Then why did you?”
“Because I needed to escape my family again. If I stayed anywhere near my house, I’d get dragged into whatever my mother wanted. It’s exhausting being someone other than who you are.” She closed her eyes, and he cradled her against his chest.
His fingers resumed their exploration and she didn’t stop them. His hands were cold against her warm skin. He didn’t wander under her bra or into her pants. He just wanted to feel her skin.
“Hungry?”
Her eyes popped open. “Starved. What’s for dinner?”
“Hot dogs and s’mores.”
“What are you, twelve?”
“You said you’ve never been camping. Everyone’s first camping experience should be hot dogs over an open flame and s’mores.” He slid away from her body to go to the tent where he’d parked the cooler. “You’re not vegetarian or something, are you?”
She laughed. “No. But what would you have done if I was?”
He shrugged. “Driven into town to buy you something to eat.” He grabbed the skewers and hot dogs from the cooler. “There’s beer in the cooler if you want one.”
“Sounds great. One for you too?”
“Sure.”
She popped the top on two bottles as he ripped open the package of hot dogs. He’d thought about bringing his campfire stove, but decided against it. No need to do anything fancy for one night of camping. Maybe they could come back in the spring and spend a long weekend.
Whoa. She wasn’t supposed be around in the spring.
He skewered a hot dog and handed the stick to Fiona. “Why can’t you be yourself around your mother?”
Her hand holding the beer twitched. He broke the rules by asking the question, but he deserved to know, didn’t he?
“Because she has certain expectations that I always fall short of no matter how much I try.”
“Then why try?”
“You promised no questions about my family.”
He lifted a shoulder like it didn’t matter. It was the most she’d said about her family and it still wasn’t much of anything.
He charred his hot dog until near black and then pulled it from the flames.
“That’s gross. It’s burnt.”
“It’s the way I like it.” He put it on a bun and added ketchup and mustard.
Fiona kept her hot dog at the edge of the fire, barely making any marks on it. Then she squirted ketchup directly onto the dog.
“I brought buns.”
“I like it like this.”
Then she proceeded to eat a hot dog so obscenely, he couldn’t believe his eyes. All he wanted was her naked again. She licked the ketchup as it dripped down the length. When her lips circled it, he groaned, even though he knew a bite would come next.
She chomped hard and laughed with a mouthful.
“You’re an evil woman.” He tossed the rest of his food to Max and advanced on Fiona. Her eyes widened, but she held her position. He stripped her coat from her body and lowered his head to kiss her.
He pressed his hard dick into her hips, the denim between them too constraining. He reached for the button on her jeans.
Her hips jerked out of reach. “I know you don’t think I’m getting naked out here.”
He looked over his shoulder and then over hers. “There’s no one around.”
“Maybe not. But it’s freaking cold.”
“Hold on.” He went into the tent and brought back the extra blanket he packed. He wrapped the blanket around her and then popped the button on her jeans. “Trust me.”
He sat on the log, positioning Fiona with her back to the fire, keeping her warm, so she could straddle him. In one shove he knocked her jeans and panties to her ankles. He stared at the hiking boots he made her get. He cursed under his breath and untied one.
She held his shoulders and he yanked the single boot off and she stepped from the restraining clothing. He kissed her hip and trailed his tongue across her torso as he fumbled with the button on his own jeans.
His cock sprang free and he realized he’d forgotten the condom. Tilting his body up, brushing his cold, bulky clothes against Fiona’s smooth nakedness, he caused another shiver. He handed the condom to her for safekeeping, but she ripped it open immediately.
Before she removed it from the package, Connor went back to touching her. He massaged her thighs and his fingers crept slowly toward the apex. She tilted her hips forward, begging for his touch. He stroked her gently and she began to ride his hand.
The woman had no patience. He wrapped his left arm around her hips to hold her steady. He looked up from his position and smiled. She returned a glare.
“Trust me.” He used his mouth and hand until she swallowed moans and her fingers scraped and grasped at his coat. She was wet with wanting him, but he wanted her almost at her peak before he drove in.
When her legs began to tremble, he snatched the condom from her hand and slid it on. The moment allowed her to recover, so he lapped at her one more time. Her body stiffened and he pulled away.
She was breathless, but managed to say, “Now who’s being evil?”
He brought her down on top of him and thrust as deep as he could. As soon as he filled her, Fiona took over the pace and rode him fast and hard. She bounced on him, pulling almost all the way off him before sl
amming back down, teasing him the way he’d teased her.
Until he couldn’t take it any longer and grabbed her shoulders. He drove into her and exploded. She ground her pelvis into him and followed.
The blanket had slipped from her shoulders and rested around their waists, covering their connection. She laid her head on his shoulder and panted to catch her breath.
“I thought you said s’mores were for dessert.”
He laughed. A real, deep, free laugh. His first in a long time. And it felt great.
After gorging on too much chocolate and marshmallow, Connor leaned back against the log and grabbed his book to read. Fiona settled next to him, the blanket still snug around her, even though she’d reclaimed her pants. She licked melted marshmallow from the edges of her graham cracker and he tried not to stare.
Max whined next to her before standing and barking. Connor sighed and stood. “He probably needs to pee again.”
Fiona stood. “I’ll take him. I have to pee too.”
He closed his book and set it beside the tent. “We’ll go together.”
“I’ll be fine with Max. I have a black belt in karate, so I can hold my own. Plus, you’re not supposed to leave a campfire unattended, are you?”
She didn’t wait for an answer. She picked up Max’s leash in one hand and handed Connor her gloppy mess of a dessert to free her other hand to hold the blanket around her. “We’ll be fast. Time us.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek. Her lips were still sticky.
Connor watched Fiona and Max head up the path until they were out of sight. He tossed her food into the fire and then paced, waiting for them to come back. He knew the park was relatively safe. And Max would alert them to any danger. But Fiona had no idea what she was doing. Black belt or not, he couldn’t imagine Fiona kicking anyone’s ass. Striking someone in a karate class wasn’t the same as being assaulted unexpectedly.
When ten minutes passed, he began the trek to find them. That’s when he heard her scream. He bolted from the site, calling her name.
The smell hit him before he saw Fiona and Max. Skunk. He should’ve warned her Max would get into a fight if given a chance. A moment later, Fiona came toward him, blanket pulled around her face so he could only see her eyes. They were watering something fierce.
“Did you get sprayed?”
“No. Just your silly dog. Doesn’t he know he’ll always lose against a skunk?”
“Not always. He’s killed a couple in my neighborhood. Still comes home smelling though.” He took Max’s leash. The dog looked up at him with pitiful eyes. Connor addressed him, “Yes, dummy, you did it again. Another bath for you.”
“I reek of skunk. I don’t think he got me, but I was close enough to Max. This is disgusting. How am I going to get rid of this?”
Connor sighed. There was no way she’d be comfortable surrounded by the stench overnight. Neither would he. “We’ll pack up and head back. I’ve got the stuff at my house to remove the smell.”
He put his arm around her and Fiona burrowed closer to him. “I bet you’re really sorry you invited me, aren’t you?”
“Nope. Now, I get to take you home and give you a special shower. You wet and naked is never a disappointment.”
Connor packed the campsite in record time and used the blanket to cover Max in the truck. Fiona rode with the window open sucking in fresh air.
Once they were back at his house, she stripped and the simple removal of her clothes helped got rid of much of the stench. “You can throw these clothes away.”
He handed her a mixture of peroxide, baking soda, and dish soap.
“I don’t know if it’s safe to use on your hair. I use it on Max without an issue, but I don’t want you mad at me if you go blonde.” He began to mix another batch to wash his dog.
“I’ve never been blonde. Maybe I should give it a try.”
Connor couldn’t imagine her as anything but a redhead. He leaned in and kissed her hard. “Don’t even think about it. I like your hair.”
He left her to take a shower, even though he wanted to join her. Max needed him more right now. After washing Max, Connor went to the truck and brought in Fiona’s bag. He set it outside the bathroom door and went to his bedroom to get fresh clothes. Max followed him around like a pitiful puppy, as if he knew he’d ruined Connor’s plans by getting skunked. Again.
Max nudged him with his nose and Connor rubbed Max’s head. “It’s okay, boy. You haven’t scared her off yet. If skunk didn’t do it, I’d say we’re pretty safe.”
“Safe from what?” Fiona asked from the hallway outside the bedroom door.
“Nothing.” He joined her in the hall and inhaled. “You smell good.”
She gave him a little shove. “I smell like you. Your soap, your shampoo.”
He nuzzled her neck. “Uh-uh. Underneath, it’s all you.”
“Well you smell like wet dog.”
“I’m on my way to the shower now.”
Chapter 5
Fiona watched him go into the bathroom. She didn’t know what to do with herself. It was late and it had been a long day. Although she should be tired, she wasn’t. But she didn’t have anything to work on.
She walked downstairs and grabbed a beer from the fridge and checked out the living room. Connor had cans of paint sitting on the floor and tarps rolled up in the corner. Maybe he was finally going to do something with the room. She set her bottle down. The lid on the first can read “living room,” so she pried it open. A pool of lush forest-green paint.
Using a stick, she stirred the paint before dipping her fingers in. She swiped her fingers across the wall. Not a bad color choice. She replaced the lid and picked up her beer.
“Fiona?” Connor’s voice carried from upstairs.
“I’m down here.”
His footsteps thudded down the stairs.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking out your color choice.” She pointed to the smudge on the wall. “It looks good.”
He stood staring at her like she was crazy. He dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a snug T-shirt. Must be time to go. If he planned on her staying, he wouldn’t have gotten dressed, right?
“I’m about done with my beer. Then we can go.”
“Go where?”
She took a drink of beer and stared at his bare feet. “I figured you wanted to take me home.”
“I thought you didn’t want to be home this weekend.”
She shrugged. Her mother had had a day to cool off and the blogger had time to move on. Hopefully. “It’s probably fine.”
He sighed and walked closer. She continued to stare at his feet until his hand cupped her jaw, bringing her face to meet his. “I didn’t say you had to go.”
His breath fluttered against her cheek and she whispered, “I didn’t want to assume…”
“Consider this your formal invitation.” He kissed her and took the bottle of beer from her hand. Then he stepped back.
“Hey, that’s my beer.”
He took a swig. “Was.” He did his little half-smile thing where only the corner of his mouth lifted on one side.
She wondered if he ever really smiled. Like a happy smile. “I’ll grab us a couple more bottles. Why don’t you lay out the tarps?”
“For what?”
“I’m not tired. I like to work late. Let’s get your walls painted.”
“You sure?”
“Yep.” Part of her wanted to see the living room as a real space. One that reflected Connor. What she’d seen of his life showed a lonely existence and an empty living room didn’t help.
Grabbing another beer from the fridge, she shook her head. She was doing it again. Creating a happily-ever-after with a man who was not her Prince Charming. For once, she wished she could be more like her brother Aiden and keep her emotional distance.
* * *
For two days with Connor, Fiona had been able to forget about politics, her family, and most of all, Patrick Neale. The damn poli
tical blogger—Fiona finally found out his name: Marco Weston—continued to use the photo of her and Patrick outside the banquet hall to make it look like she was more interested in Patrick than her father’s campaign.
Over the weekend, Weston managed to dig up some old photos of her and Patrick to run with Patrick’s response, for which she could kill him. Patrick allowed Weston to interview him and he admitted to talking with her about a possible reconciliation.
She was done listening to her mother. No way would she let that sit. Patrick made it sound like getting back together was imminent. She’d contacted Weston herself to set the record straight. Unfortunately, the interview hadn’t gone quite as she’d planned.
Now she stared at her phone, knowing her mother was at the other end. “Hello, Mom.”
“How could you, Fiona? I told you I would handle it.”
“But you weren’t, Mom. He interviewed Patrick who made it sound like we were headed toward coupledom again.” The thought heated her blood and she wanted to hit someone.
“Why would you allow that to bother you?”
Her mother made no sense. Every little thing, like the color of Fiona’s dress would bother her, but God forbid Fiona got upset over someone spreading rumors about her.
Her mother continued, “No one gives credence to the drivel that man writes. It would’ve blown over if you had ignored him. Now I have to interfere.”
“Something you excel at,” Fiona mumbled.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing. I was trying to help. Can’t you see? Not only did he make it look like Patrick and I are dating, but he made it seem like I was invested in Patrick’s campaign. That my loyalties were torn. I couldn’t sit by and allow people to believe him.”
“And if only you stated your position that way. Instead, you allowed your temper to speak for you. Luckily there were no sound bites.”
“I’m sorry.” As usual. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Your father has an interview this afternoon. Dress appropriately for television.”
“Am I going to have to speak?”
“Only if a question is directed at you. Otherwise, you’re there to show your support.”
Between Love and Loyalty Page 7