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Rock Solid

Page 2

by Phillips, Carly


  She paused, and Connor let out an empathetic groan, because he knew exactly where this story was heading and how it was going to end. He also knew the anger and pain of finding out that someone you were in a relationship with had betrayed your trust. He’d been there, done that, and it fucking sucked.

  Katie shifted in her seat and bravely went on, even though he knew how difficult this next part had to be for her to say out loud. “So, while we’re standing there staring at each other, with me waiting for him to show some kind of sign that he was happy to see me, the shower in the bathroom turned off. And again, I stupidly thought, ‘How in the world did that happen when Brice was standing right in front of me?’, and then a woman with her own towel wrapped around her came into view and answered that question.”

  Connor had known the outcome, but he swore beneath his breath anyway, because the hurt in her eyes made him want to punch Brice in the goddamn face for being a lying, cheating douchebag—and for humiliating Katie, instead of ending a relationship he obviously didn’t want to be in. Not to mention the damage to Katie’s dignity and self-esteem as a woman.

  She wasn’t crying. Her eyes were dry, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t feeling devastated. Then again, maybe she hadn’t been invested in Brice as much as she’d thought, either.

  “So, once I got over my shock at realizing he was having an affair while on his business trip, Brice proceeded to tell me that he hasn’t been feeling it for a while now with me, and he was done. He didn’t display an ounce of guilt, and the only apology I got from him was that he was sorry I came all the way to Denver for nothing. Happy freaking Valentine’s Day to me, huh?” She met Connor’s gaze and shook her head. “I was a naive idiot for thinking that this surprise trip would magically make all our problems disappear.”

  Without really thinking about his actions, he reached across the table and grabbed her hand, enveloping it in his so she didn’t feel so alone. “You weren’t an idiot, Katie. He’s a selfish prick. If he wasn’t ‘feeling it,’ then he should have ended things with you before sticking his pencil dick into another woman.”

  An unexpected snort of laughter escaped her, and instead of looking mortified at the slip, she laughed again, as if deferring to humor was just the right medicine she needed at this moment. “You’re right again. He’s an asshole and he doesn’t deserve me anyway. And ‘pencil dick’ isn’t too far from the truth, either.” Then she grinned. “Damn, that felt good.”

  He smiled, too, glad to see her bounce back, though he knew it didn’t erase the humiliation she’d endured. “It’s the truth, Katie, and you’re going to be okay.” He knew that from experience, too.

  “Yeah, I know,” she said on a sigh. “Like I said, in hindsight, I should have seen something like this coming. Now, I just want to get back to Chicago and pack up all his stuff from my place so I never have to see him again. Unfortunately, it’s going to be a long night, hanging out in the airport with too much free time to think and trying to find somewhere comfortable to sleep. I was really looking forward to a long, hot shower at home and being in my own bed tonight.”

  Connor really tried not to think of Katie in either of those situations—naked in a shower with water running down her luscious, curvy body or her lying back on a comforter, that gorgeous hair of hers spread out over her pillow and her full, kissable lips parted as she slept—but his misbehaving brain had a mind of its own and had no issues projecting those sexy images in his head.

  Okay, now who was the asshole? He had no business lusting over Katie when she’d just been dumped by her boyfriend, in quite an offensive way. In fact, he needed to show her there were some men who could be a gentleman, and Connor would like to think that was one of his better qualities. And even though his mind might have conjured up a hot, sexy scenario with Katie in the starring role, that’s all it really was . . . just a harmless fantasy that he might or might not think about when he got into bed tonight, closed his eyes, and wrapped his hand around his hard, aching—

  “I wonder if the Westin has any rooms left for the night,” she said, putting a screeching halt on his thoughts as she retrieved her phone from her handbag to give them a call.

  “Doubtful. They were pretty limited when I called about forty minutes ago to book my room.” Which reminded him that his suite had two bedrooms. “But lucky for you, I have a soft, comfortable bed you can sleep on and a nice hot shower to go with it.”

  Her gaze jerked to his, and too late he realized just how suggestive his words sounded . . . like he was offering to share his bed with her. But right after the comment left his mouth, and before he could explain what he meant, their waitress stopped at their table.

  “Can I get the two of you anything else?” she asked.

  Connor glanced across the table at Katie, her eyes still wide as she shook her head to answer the waitress’s question.

  “I think we’re both good,” he said, and as soon as the girl set the two separate checks on the table, he reached for them both and pulled out his wallet.

  “Umm, I can pay for my own meal,” Katie told him.

  After what he’d just said, she probably thought he was buying her dinner because he expected her to put out in return. But that wasn’t the case. He was just trying to be a nice guy and implement the manners his parents had drilled into him as a teenager.

  “I’m paying for your meal because my father would kick my ass if I didn’t,” he explained with humor, and when her brows creased in confusion, he clarified further. “As soon as I was old enough to date, my dad taught me that it was my obligation as a man to pick up the tab when dining with a woman, because it was the polite, courteous thing to do. It doesn’t mean there are any strings or expectations attached,” he said, wanting to make that clear. “It’s just what I’ve always done, and now it’s a habit that’s pretty much ingrained.”

  “Oh, okay,” she said, her expression softening. “Thank you, then.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” he said as he placed enough bills on the table to cover both checks, along with a generous tip, before addressing his earlier faux pas.

  He lifted his gaze to hers more seriously. “So, about that offer I just made about a room . . . before you think I’m a total creep who just propositioned you, let me clarify that all the Westin Hotel had available when I called was a two-bedroom suite, and I booked it because I wasn’t about to hang out and sleep in the terminal until the storm passes. So, considering the day you’ve had, I’d like to offer you the extra room to stay in.”

  She hesitated, which he understood, before asking, “Are you sure?”

  He didn’t miss the hopeful note in her voice, and he discovered he liked being her white knight, the guy who came to her rescue after her dumb-ass boyfriend’s stupidity in letting her go. “I’m one hundred percent certain. Besides, it’ll be nice to have a roommate for the next twenty-four hours. We can celebrate Valentine’s Day together by watching cheesy movies on pay-per-view all night and gorging on all the junk food in the mini bar, then sleep off the sugar coma all tomorrow morning.”

  She returned his grin, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Ahhh, cheesy movies and junk food. You sure do know how to sweet-talk a girl,” she teased.

  He laughed as he pushed his chair back and stood. “And to think that you haven’t even seen some of my best moves yet,” he said with a flirtatious wink as he picked up his duffel and grabbed the handle of her luggage before she could. “Come on, Valentine. Let’s blow this joint and get our slumber party started.”

  Chapter Two

  From the moment her boyfriend—make that ex-boyfriend—closed the door on her after so coldly ending their relationship, Katie Kaswell wouldn’t have thought that her shitty day could take a turn for the better. But it had, in the form of a gorgeous guy who was hotter than Hades, with a devastatingly sexy smile that made her stomach flutter in sensual awareness because everything about him was so easygoing and charming—the exact opposite of Brice’s more uptight and na
rcissistic personality, which she’d seen in all its glory earlier today.

  As they walked side by side through the airport terminal and toward the Westin Hotel, she cast a surreptitious look at the man who’d generously offered her a place to stay for the night without any expectations. She’d only known Connor for an hour, but there was nothing egotistical about him that she’d detected so far, nor had he come off as a player looking for a snowstorm hookup, which had been her first thought when he’d asked to sit at her table.

  Instead, he’d been kind and sympathetic while she’d shared her humiliating situation with him, listening attentively to her story, whereas most guys would have been completely uninterested in the reason behind her unpleasant mood. He’d even managed to make her feel better about the whole mortifying experience, calling Brice a selfish prick with a pencil dick. Remembering his comment almost made her laugh out loud all over again.

  They wove in and out of the crowd of people stuck at the airport, and Katie didn’t miss the way a lot of women eyed Connor appreciatively as they walked by, even a few who appeared to be with a significant other. Not that she blamed any of them for admiring what a gorgeous, virile male he was. He was big and tall, with thick, dark brown hair, stunning blue eyes, and a rock-hard body built for sin. And that light scruff on his jaw? So. Damn. Hot.

  The man was sex on two legs, though he seemed completely oblivious to the ogling stares, whereas most guys would have upped their swagger to try and further impress their female audience. No, there was nothing cocky or arrogant about him, and she found that was incredibly appealing, too.

  During their meal together, he’d pushed up the sleeves of his navy blue Henley, treating her—and every other woman in the vicinity—to his strong forearms and the sexy tattoos that covered one of his arms all the way down to the back of his hand. That intriguing ink increased his hotness factor by at least another ten points. It also made her wonder what he’d look like with his shirt completely off and what his skin would feel like sliding against the tips of her fingers and how the muscles in his chest might react to the caress of her hands all the way down to his stomach.

  Her pulse skipped a beat, and that spark of attraction that had been missing with Brice, especially over the last few months, came back with a vengeance, showing her body just how wonderful, how exciting, desire could feel. That heady awareness tightened her nipples and curled seductively through her belly, then settled between her thighs, surprising her.

  Oh, hello, arousal. That’s where you’ve been!

  A small smile touched her lips as they headed into the Westin. After the spectacular way Brice had humiliated her, along with making her feel as though their lackluster sex life had been her fault, she didn’t even experience a sliver of guilt for her physical reaction to Connor. No, she found it exhilarating and, oddly enough, empowering. Kind of like a big ol’ fuck you to Brice, that it had taken mere thoughts of another man to make her body feel like a woman again.

  Connor walked to the sitting area in the lobby and put her luggage and his duffel next to a vacant chair. “Mind hanging here with our bags while I check in? No sense both of us standing in that long line when you can be comfortable sitting here.”

  Her gaze traveled from the crowd of people waiting to register for their rooms, then back to Connor as she gave him a smile, appreciating his courteous gesture. “No, I don’t mind at all.”

  Yeah, she was totally fine with that decision, especially when he walked away and she got her first good look at his backside. Broad shoulders. Narrow waist. And a firm ass hugged by a pair of fitted jeans. The man was an Adonis. Physically flawless and thoughtful, to boot. Which made her wonder why some woman hadn’t already snatched him up . . . unless he liked being a bachelor.

  Forty minutes later, Connor returned and handed her a keycard of her own, just in case she needed it, he told her. They rode the elevator up to the very top floor, and she followed him to their room, then inside once he had the door open. The suite was wide and spacious, with a living room and kitchen in the middle and a master bedroom with an adjoining bathroom on either side of those main rooms.

  He dropped his bag on the couch, then rolled her luggage into one of the bedrooms and parked it next to the bed before facing her with an easy smile that belied the flicker of heat in his eyes as his gaze briefly dipped down to her mouth. Now that they were alone, really alone, something in the air between them seemed to shift, bringing with it a seductive pull she was suddenly finding difficult to resist. Connor was that temptation, and she couldn’t stop from wondering what would happen if she stepped closer and touched him. If she lifted her mouth to his for a kiss just so she could see what he tasted like and what it would be like to have him not be such a gentleman.

  He pushed his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans, as if he was having an equally difficult time keeping his hands to himself and needed to keep them restrained. “Here you go. A soft, comfortable bed for the night and that hot shower you wanted,” he finally said, his voice a bit rough around the edges despite his polite words. “And if you just want to crawl into bed and fall asleep, I totally understand. But if you’d rather have some company and you’re interested in taking me up on that offer of cheesy movies and junk food, I’ll be hanging out in the living room.”

  He turned to go, and she stopped him before he could leave. “Connor?”

  He glanced back, his expression unreadable. “Yeah?”

  “I just wanted to thank you, for listening when I needed to vent,” she said, needing him to know how much she appreciated him being so kind and caring after her craptastic afternoon. “You’re a really nice guy, which is hard to come by these days.” She ought to know, considering her track record with the wrong kind of men.

  The corner of his mouth twitched with a wry grin that mocked the compliment she’d just given him. “Yeah, well, sometimes being a nice guy is way overrated.”

  He exited the room and closed the door quietly behind him, his parting remark revealing that keeping his hands to himself might not be as easy as he made it look. That he was quite possibly struggling between being respectful because of her breakup with Brice and giving in to the attraction they both clearly felt.

  She understood the physical tug-of-war, because she was experiencing it, too.

  Exhaling a deep breath, she grabbed her toiletry bag and headed into the adjoining bathroom and stripped out of her clothes. Turning on the shower, she pinned up her hair, then stepped beneath the spray, letting the hot water wash away the last of the day’s hurt and anger. Brice wasn’t worth the emotion, and if she was honest with herself, her heart wasn’t broken, because in her gut, she’d known for at least the past two months that her relationship with Brice was heading toward the end.

  As always, the foreshadowing had been there. Him working longer, later hours. Canceling plans at the last minute. Being distracted on his phone when they were together and telling her it was business when she asked who he was texting with. But instead of heeding those signs, Katie did what she’d always done. She’d given Brice the benefit of the doubt, hoping that for once, her intuition was wrong. She’d hung in there, never wanting to feel as though she didn’t at least try to make things work, because she’d always sworn she wouldn’t treat relationships like her parents did—like they were disposable.

  But in the end, Katie’s efforts and determination never paid off, and she was always the one on the receiving end of an it’s not me, it’s you speech, for one reason or another. Just like her previous two relationships before Brice, she’d been dumped once the excitement and shininess wore off, and it always left her feeling as though she wasn’t worth the effort. That she wasn’t enough.

  That was the painful part, because she’d grown up feeling that way with her mother and father. She’d been used as a pawn in her parents’ divorce, depending on what either of them wanted from the other at any given time, but once they managed to achieve their objective, their attention abruptly ended
until the next time one of them needed her for some kind of leverage.

  From the young age of four, that continuous push-pull had been her life with her parents, until she finally graduated high school and could move to another state for college and neither one of them could manipulate her emotions any longer. Unfortunately, that childhood had carried over into adulthood and her relationships with men. She was always too eager to please, even at the expense of her own happiness, and it always came back to bite her in the ass.

  Clearly, she couldn’t trust her judgment when it came to the opposite sex. And clearly, it was time to reevaluate her life and focus on being content without a man who would eventually disappoint her like all the others had.

  Pushing all those thoughts from her head, she finished up in the shower, rinsing the frothy body wash from her skin and turning off the water before she turned into a prune. Grabbing a towel, she dried off, then wrapped it around her as she walked back into the bedroom to get dressed.

  But as she looked through her suitcase, she came across the lingerie she’d bought as a Valentine’s Day surprise for Brice, which was all she’d intended to wear for the weekend—that or nothing at all—other than her jeans outside of the hotel room. The risqué nightie in her hand mocked her for being a fool, and she suddenly wanted to forget about her embarrassing afternoon and erase Brice from her mind completely tonight.

  She thought about Connor waiting in the living room for her, and her pulse beat slow and thick in her veins as his final comment came back to taunt her . . . being a nice guy is way overrated.

  He didn’t want to be a nice guy. That much she knew. What he wanted was her, and after having her self-esteem take such a direct hit, the notion of feeling sexy and desirable, even for one night, was so tempting. The last thing she wanted right now was a commitment or forever promises when that clearly was not her forte, but hot, mindless sex with a gorgeous, hot-as-hell stranger she’d never see again? Yeah, that sounded absolutely perfect and exactly what she needed.

 

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