Playing At Love: A Rogue Series Novel

by Lara Ward Cosio

  “That’s not—”

  “You don’t let real love pass you by because of a commitment to someone else made in error. That’s not going to make anyone happy, Conor. I know you don’t want to hurt her, but you’re going to hurt everyone this way.”

  “You need to stop, Soph. Seriously.” He fixed her with a hard stare but she maintained eye contact with him until he was the one to look away.

  “Well,” she said with forced lightness in her voice, “maybe she is meant to be with Richard in the end, anyway. Hopefully he’ll have come to his senses and they’re finding their way back together as we speak.”

  He grimaced at this thought.

  “Ah ha!” she said with a gleeful smile. “I knew it!”

  “Knew what?”

  “You do have feelings for Felicity!”

  “I never said I didn’t. I’m with Colette, though.”

  “You are ridiculously stubborn. Why are you holding on to something just because—”

  “Because I’ve made a commitment, Sophie. And I don’t want to be this guy.”

  “What guy? You’re not a bad person if you break it off with her, you know?”

  “Can’t you see that I’m trying to do the right thing this time? I’m trying so fucking hard.”

  “Ugh,” she groaned in frustration. “The right thing is being with the person who has your heart. The one who will truly take care of it.”

  “I don’t disagree.”

  “I’m not coming to your wedding.” She folded her arms across her chest in mock protest.

  “Yes, you are.” He started the car and drove on. “You’re my friend, aren’t you?”

  She considered him for a moment. “Yes, I am. Even when you do things you know you shouldn’t.”

  He glanced at her. “Does that include yourself?”

  “Ha ha,” she said and then really laughed. She watched him for a moment, her smile lingering. “I’m so glad you’re in my life again, Connie.”

  “Same here, honey. But listen, be sure you never call me Connie in front of Colette. She’ll murder us both.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t you know you’re the only one I’ve ever let call me that?”

  She smiled at him, pleased for this simple, yet significant thing they could still have and call their own.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  Conor invited himself into the house when they got there, anxious to ensure that Gavin wasn’t bothered by this visit of Sophie’s. With his other relationships being so complex, he was determined to safeguard the delicate repairs recently made to this one.

  “It’s lashing down,” Conor said as he took off his wool-lined jean jacket.

  “I can see that,” Gavin replied, eyeing his wife and his friend.

  He had the gas fireplace on high and the room was warm. But he felt cold, his body trembling faintly from the thoughts that had been swirling in his head for the past hour.

  “You two should have a drink. I can make something easy for dinner,” Sophie offered.

  “Sounds good. I’m starved,” Conor replied. “I’ll just use the loo for a minute.”

  Conor took his leave and Gavin turned to the stormy view, clenching and unclenching his hands as he worked to control his urges. He felt Sophie wrap her arms around his chest from behind. Her touch did nothing to slow the wild beating of his heart as he fought off desperate thoughts of ego-boosting cocaine.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered.

  “It’s not,” he replied through gritted teeth. “I was wrong earlier to think I could take this. I don’t want you alone with him.”

  She moved in front of him and searched his eyes. “Gavin, it’s not what you think—”

  “It’s not about what I think. It’s about how it makes me feel. Whether that is legitimate or not.”

  She took that in and then nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry, baby.”

  “I was never jealous or suspicious of you two before when I should have been. Now, I see you in his arms at the party at this house, and you and him sneaking off to the kitchen at that New York dinner, and you going over to his place today and it kills me.”

  “I don’t want that,” she said and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “You know I want you, us. Don’t you?”

  She could feel him take in a deep breath and hold it too long. He finally let it out slowly and returned her embrace.

  “I do, darlin’. I do. Just a momentary lapse.”

  Pulling inches away, she looked in his eyes as she took his hand. She guided his palm so it pressed against her lower belly.

  “This is us. This is our future.”

  Tears sprang to his eyes when what she said registered. “For definite?”

  Now her eyes matched his as they watered. “I think so. I was going to take a test to see. But all signs—”

  “Looks like you guys are having a bit of a moment. Maybe I should take off?” Conor said as he came into the living area.

  “Your call,” Sophie whispered to him.

  Gavin gave it a moment’s consideration before telling his friend, “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

  Conor shook his head. “No problem. Everything alright?”

  Gavin knew he was really asking, “Are we okay?”

  “Everything’s fine, Con. I had, em, already planned an evening for the two of us.”

  “Okay. Sorry to intrude.”

  “No bother. Now get the fuck out,” Gavin said with a grin and Conor laughed.

  “Got it.”

  ~

  They sat on the living room rug, with the room lit by one lamp and the flickering flames of the fireplace. Sophie had the stick in her hand with the indicator window hidden in her palm.

  “It’s time, right? Isn’t it time already?” Gavin asked.

  She smiled and touched his cheek with her free hand. “Yes, let’s see.”

  Carefully, she revealed the test stick screen, placing it between them on the rug. Under the glow of the burnt orange fire, the tiny letters slowly formed, at first faint, then becoming a deeper imprint.

  Sophie turned to Gavin but his eyes were still on the plastic test stick.

  “How does it feel?” she asked softly.

  He looked at her, his eyes wide. “Like the world has opened up,” he said. “And it’s beautiful.”

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  Conor used his fork to push his takeaway curry around in the plastic container it had come in, only half-listening as Colette talked about the latest wedding plans.

  Their “small” ceremony would take place in a Catholic cathedral in New York City before 175 guests in less than two weeks. The location had been chosen as a compromise as it was in neither of their hometowns, yet it was far more convenient for her Quebec family and friends than for his Irish family and friends.

  They were on Skype but she hadn’t looked at him in the last twenty minutes as she instead focused on the paperwork spread out before her: details of the ceremony, catering, flowers, photographer, and countless other minutia. There was, of course, a high-priced wedding planner handling everything but Colette was enamored with the planning process.

  As she flipped through a style book of men’s suits and tuxedos, commenting on those she favored and disliked, he let his mind wander. The last few days had been emotionally draining. That episode in the pool with Felicity had been . . . what had it been? It had been thrilling. The kiss was intense. Letting her walk away had been harder than he could have imagined. And it was clear in her face the next morning when she found him just out of bed with Colette that she wasn’t thrilled about the brevity of their moment either. But what was he to do? He had committed to marrying Colette, to building a life with this beautiful, passionate woman who had taken him back more times than he had deserved over the past couple years.

  Then Felicity had pulled the stunt of threatening to sleep with that slimy Jackson and promptly followed
that up by hopping a plane to see her ex-husband. In a way, he wondered if she was testing him, pushing to see if it would expose his jealousy. But he knew her better than that. She wasn’t someone who played games. That was Colette’s style. And his, to some degree, if he was honest with himself.

  So he had been left with the ache of not knowing what would become of Felicity’s heart. Or her body, for that matter.

  And Sophie. So presumptuous with her plan to be the one to make him see the light. Just because she had had the power in the past to make him weak didn’t mean she could still bend him to her will. What did she expect him to do at this point? Was he to just call everything off and walk away from the one real, reciprocal relationship he had had in his adult life because she preferred someone else for him? Her loyalty was to Felicity since she and Colette were no longer friends. Of course she preferred to rearrange his coupling.

  He wondered what had been going on earlier when he found her and Gavin talking so intensely. Some sort of row over her having been at his house, he guessed. Gavin’s expression when he had walked in the door with her was clear as day. He was wracked with suspicion, sick with jealousy. He had wanted to tell his friend, I didn’t instigate her visit. And I’ve let her go . . . finally. Clearly there was only so much he could do to help the situation. He had been right to leave it in Sophie’s hands.

  “Connie? Wake up, Connie!”

  Conor focused on the computer screen and saw Colette waving her hand in front of her monitor.

  “Hmm?”

  “Have you heard a word I’ve said about the offer from US Weekly to buy a few exclusive photos of the wedding?”

  He frowned at the thought of such a thing, finding it abhorrent. “Absolutely not, Colette. Why the fuck would I want to do that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. For the money? For the chance to have some control over the images that get out? To share this day with your fans?” She waited for him to reply but he remained silent. “Or should I be talking to Felicity about this since she handles the media stuff?”

  “Felicity would laugh her arse off at the idea. She knows me well enough to reject this out of hand.”

  Colette rolled her eyes and then flipped through one of her catalogs.

  He took a long drink of his Galway Hooker pale ale as something unrelated occurred to him. “Do you talk about me with Jackson?” he asked.

  Colette stayed stone still but her eyes traveled up and to the right. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “You said you two are friends. Does that mean you talk to him about me? Simple question.”

  “I don’t know where this is coming from—”

  “Never mind, honey. It’s apparent that you do.”

  “I really don’t get this. But if you insist, I suppose the fact that he and I are friends naturally means I’ve spoken of you from time to time. You are my fiancé, after all, mon cher.”

  “Mon cher is a hell of a lot better than calling me Connie.”

  “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just a silly thing. Why do you take it to heart, anyway?”

  Conor closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, he saw her fidgeting with her hair.

  He still didn’t like the fact that Jackson had used the nickname “Connie” with him at that party in Los Angeles. It was widely known among his family and friends how much he disdained the name, yet Colette still used it on occasion, most often to irritate him.

  His phone rang loudly. He usually kept it on silent but he had been anxious to get a particular call.

  “Turn it off. Ignore the call,” she hissed when he stared down at the phone.

  “I have to take this,” he said.

  “You have to pay attention to me, Conor!”

  “I’ll ring you back in a few minutes,” he said and quickly disconnected their Skype call.

  He accepted the call on his phone, saying “Fee,” by way of an answer.

  “Hey, you,” she said softly.

  “Where are you?”

  “Still in Toronto. I have a flight booked for the morning.”

  Conor felt his body relax a degree. That she was headed back to Dublin was a very good sign. “What more can you tell me?”

  “Nothing really now, Con. I just wanted to call since I said I would.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  She sounded spent to him, her voice devoid of her usual lightness. “What time do you come in? I’ll pick you up.”

  “No, that’s not necessary.”

  “I want to.”

  The line was quiet for a spell and he checked the screen to be sure they were still connected. “Please let me pick you up.”

  “Fine, sure.” She gave him her arrival time and flight number and said a hasty goodbye.

  ~

  Colette didn’t pick up when he called back and he didn’t blame her. Once again, he was putting another woman before her. Not that she knew that, exactly. What she knew was that he wasn’t giving her the attention she deserved.

  He had tried so hard over the past year to make Colette his priority, to find in her the same depth of feeling he had had for Sophie. And he had tried to convince himself that what he ended up with was enough. Any man would have been beyond happy to be with a woman like Colette, even with her drama. But he couldn’t deny any longer that there was something essential missing for him.

  It was over a year ago that Gavin had said something seemingly off-handed to him but it had been coming to the forefront of his mind lately. The two had been in Paris to watch Colette and Sophie in the runway shows. Gavin had been hyped up on cocaine, vaguely aware of the inappropriately close relationship Conor and Sophie had, and trying to assert his claim over his wife.

  His non-stop chattering about the supernatural connection he had with Sophie came to a head when he asked, “Do you have that with Colette? Does she make you feel like she’d go to the ends of the earth with you?”

  Conor had known the answer then. It was the same now. She was a fair-weather girlfriend, invested only as far as she needed to be. Which wasn’t entirely surprising for someone her age.

  Before he had the chance to answer, Gavin had continued, “If she doesn’t, Con,” Gavin said, “if she doesn’t—don’t settle. Find a woman who’ll make you feel that. You deserve it.”

  If he applied the same question to Felicity, he thought he’d get a different answer. Then again, he found it hard to trust his feelings for her. Those feelings were born out of what his heart wanted and that was exactly how he had screwed up before when he allowed himself to fall for Sophie. He had wanted to take an entirely different approach with Colette, vowing to use his head instead of letting his heart rule. It had seemed the logical way to regain control over the mess he had made. But it had proven to be a miscalculation. Because the truth was, the heart couldn’t be outmaneuvered.

  “Fuck me,” he muttered.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  “Does Conor know?”

  It was still early morning and they were in bed, in the waking-up phase of stretching and cuddling. Or so Sophie had thought. Gavin had obviously been up for a while with this weighing on his mind.

  She looked at her husband and saw in his eyes the damage she had done. When she had become pregnant the previous year, it had been in the midst of their marriage falling apart. Gavin had gone to Los Angeles, claiming he couldn’t get his head straight and kick cocaine in her presence. His absence had stretched out with no promise of return, even as he began to get well.

  Then Conor had shown up at her doorstep, newly un-engaged from Colette, and she had been overwhelmed with a tangle of emotions at seeing him. It had been a welcome relief to feel the familiar comfort of his adoration for her. And as they caught each other up on their sad stories, she realized she wanted nothing more than to be close with him, to finally engage in the kind of intimacy he had long made clear he wanted. Because as she watched him that afternoon, she allowed her
self to feel what she had kept at bay for so long. It was then that she admitted to herself she had fallen in love with him. She wanted to give herself to him, even though she knew it would be a fleeting connection. Fleeting because though she loved him, her love and commitment to Gavin would always be greater.

  So she took him to her bed, and they had the kind of chemistry together that would linger a lifetime in their memories. Afterward, she made it clear without saying the words that they wouldn’t repeat this episode. She was grateful that he had accepted this because she had been vulnerable enough to have been swayed had he really tried to pursue something lasting with her.

  Instead, he continued on as a platonic friend and was her companion over the next couple weeks. And he was there when she realized she was almost eight weeks pregnant. It had felt natural to tell him, to confide in him her fears over bringing a child into the wreck of a marriage she had. He had convinced her to go to LA, to track down Gavin so he could be a part of deciding their future.

  Of course, Gavin didn’t understand any of this history. He had been so checked out of their relationship, that he couldn’t comprehend the friendship she had with Conor. When he later realized that Conor had known about her pregnancy before he did, it triggered a series of questions that eventually led to her confession that she had been unfaithful.

  Things were different now. But Sophie knew that didn’t register with Gavin. They needed more time. Much more time before he could take things at face value and not succumb to the doubts he had every right to feel.

  “No,” she told him now. “No, baby. It’s just us.”

  He watched her silently for a moment before nodding. “We should keep it that way . . . for a while.”

  She moved onto her belly and leaned on her elbows so she could look at him. “Gavin, I feel so lucky. To be back with you. To have our life. I swear to you, all I want is to protect it and nurture it.”

  He stroked her cheek and watched her watery eyes before nodding. “Okay, darlin’. I’ll let it go. I will. I will let the past be the past.”