by Fawkes, Sara
Chapter Nine – Connor
I was hoping a walk would help clear my head. Although the crisp autumn air is refreshing, the walk
isn’t helping. Not one bit. I stand at the crossroads between turning toward the guest lodge and
Connor’s room or going the other way, toward the Big House and Wade.
I don’t know how long I stand there, but suddenly I hear the sound of crying coming from the path
toward the guest lodge. I hurry in that direction.
“Alex?”
“Do you know where my mommy is? I don’t know where she is.” He’s standing there in
Spiderman pajamas, barefoot, his hair sticking up all over and rubbing his teary eyes.
“She’s not in the room?”
He shakes his head.
“Why don’t you show me?” I take his hand and he leads me back down the path toward the guest
lodge. They’re staying in the first room on the corner. Number one, two doors down from Connor’s
room. I glance longingly in that direction.
Once inside, I tuck Alex back into his bed. “Your mom’s probably gone down to the Big House for
something to eat. I’ll go find her and bring her back, okay?”
He nods, his lip still quivering. I’m tempted to kiss the top of his head, but decide to rub his hair
before heading for the door. I don’t know what it is about kids that makes them seem so much younger
at night. Gone is the rough and tumble little boy and in his place is a scared, vulnerable little kid.
“Tessa...?”
“Yes?”
“Will you stay with me?”
His eyes are so big and wide and he looks so small, my heart breaks a little. “You know what?
Connor’s just two doors down. If you get scared, you can find him in number three.”
Alex’s eyes light up. “Connor?”
“Yep.”
His face falls again and he pulls the comforter up around his face. “Can you go get him?”
I pause, then, “Sure.”
After softly closing the door I go two rooms down, hesitating for a second before knocking.
As if he’s been standing right inside the door, waiting for me, Connor pulls it open, sees me, grins
and pulls me inside. He pushes me against the wall and plants a wet one on me. “I knew you’d see the
light,” he whispers against my mouth.
“Connor,” I say, pulling away. “Alex is awake and crying and I don’t know where Stacey is.”
“Stacey?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll go get her.”
“Alex wants you. Tell me where she is and I’ll go.”
He considers my words before saying softly, “She’s with Wade. I think I’d better go.”
“Oh.”
He grabs his jacket, slips it on, takes my hand and walks me to Stacey’s door. “I’m sorry, Tessa.”
“It’s okay,” I say and it is. For the most part. Wade is such a great guy and Stacey needs that.
Besides, I’ve got Connor...if I want him.
I slip back into the room and find Alex sitting up in bed, sniffling. “You okay, honey?”
“Yeah. Where’s Connor?”
“He’s gone to get your mom.” I sit on the edge of the bed and ask Alex what his favorite part of
the day was. The minute his mind is off his mother, he comes to life, enthusing about every single
activity and replaying the whole day in vivid detail.
It seems like no time has passed before Stacey bursts through the door. Her cheeks are pink, her
hair is mussed and her eyes are red. “Alex!” She rushes over to the bed and pulls Alex into her arms.
He responds by giving his mom a hug and then pushing her away.
“Mo-om, your squishing me.” No more vulnerable little boy.
Stacey lets him go and regards me. She looks like she’s been crying, or about to cry. “Thanks,
Tessa,” she murmurs.
“You’re welcome.”
I make my way to the door of the bedroom but before I leave, she says, “Can you wait a second,
Tessa?”
“Sure.” I go outside to the living room/kitchenette area of the suite, feeling...unsettled. What does
Stacey want to talk to me about? I have a feeling she wants to talk about Wade and that doesn’t sit
well.
A few seconds later, Stacey softly closes the door to the bedroom and moves closer to me. Her
eyes are down and her voice is low. “I know what you must think of me.”
I’m not sure what she’s talking about. Is she referring to whatever happened between her and
Wade or is she talking about her son?
Before I have a chance to answer, she goes on, “I’m a terrible mom. I should never have left him.”
I close the distance between us, grabbing her hand. “That’s not what I think. Not at all.” I give her
hand a squeeze. “He was asleep. How did you know he’d wake up?”
“I shouldn’t have left.”
“Stacey, you’re a mom, yes. But, you’re also a woman. You deserve to have your own life too.
Don’t feel guilty about that.”
“I should feel guilty. What I did was irresponsible.”
“Hey,” I squeeze some more. “What do you think Alex is going to remember about this weekend?
The fact he woke up scared one night or that he got to ride a mechanical bull, go for a trail ride, hang
out with real cowboys and see some crazy cowboy rodeo? You’ve given him the experience of a
lifetime.”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts. It’s true. Don’t beat yourself up.”
Looking up, Stacey gives me a wobbly smile. She squeezes back and says, “You know, I was
wrong about you.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugs, her lips still quivering. “I wanted to believe you were shallow.”
“Shallow?”
“You know. A woman out for a good time. A...slut.” She grimaces like the word tastes bad.
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry.” She glances at me. “It’s totally not fair. The truth is, I guess I’m...jealous.”
“Jealous?”
“You get to do whatever you want. And, everyone likes you.” She looks away. “Wade likes you.”
“Wade’s a good guy. We’re...friends.”
“That’s what he said.”
I force my lips into a smile and squeeze her hands again. “Do you plan on seeing him after this
weekend?”
“Oh no,” she says. “Nothing happened between us.” She snuffles against her sleeve. “You know
Wade. He’s too much of a gentleman. He doesn’t get involved with guests.”
“Oh.” I nod, as if I totally know what she’s talking about, as if I don’t know the truth about the
man—that he’s as nasty as they come when you’re alone and naked with him.
Before leaving, I give Stacey a big hug and say goodnight. I head back to my cabin, temporarily
forgetting about Connor because I’m too distracted by the notion that nothing happened between
Stacey and Wade and that Wade broke his rule for me last night yet has been pushing me away all day
today.
Once inside, I close the door and lean against it. After a moment or two, I hang up my jacket and
flop down onto the comfy couch, thinking. This weekend has certainly turned out to be more
emotional than I expected. Last night with Wade was so much fun. Today, between the attention
Connor has paid me and the lack of attention from Wade, well, it’s been confusing, to say the least.
Yes, I’m horny and I’d love to spend time in both Connor and Wade’s bed. But I also really like
them. I’d like more than
a one-night stand. They’re the kind of people I’d like to form a relationship
with—as much of a relationship as I am capable of having, anyway. I’d like to come back to the ranch.
Visit. Really form a friendship with the men.
And fuck their brains out.
Wade and Connor.
God. I want them both, equally.
I’m startled out of my reverie by a knock on the door. My stomach drops. Who is it? Connor?
Wade? My fickle heart pounds at the thought of it being Wade and my tummy tightens at the thought
of it being Connor. Then another thought strikes. What if it’s both of them, like in my subconscious
exercise?
Oh lord. Please let it be both of them. My girlie parts quiver at the very idea of Wade and
Connor...together.
When I open the door, I find Connor standing there, a bottle of tequila in one hand, a plastic bag in
his other.
“Did I beat him here?”
“Who?”
“You know who.”
Standing firmly in the doorway, I say, “Maybe.”
“Good. Can I come in? I have treats.” He presents the nearly full bottle of Tequila Gold.
“What do you think is going to happen here, Connor?”
“I think you and I are going to play a little drinking game. I’m going to get you nice and tipsy and
then we’re going to get naked and fuck like bunnies.”
“Really? That’s your plan?”
He shrugs. “I’ve never been much of a planner. I prefer spontaneity.”
There is something contagious about Connor’s outlook on life that makes it impossible to say no
to him. With an internal chastisement, yet with a silly grin plastered to my face, I open the door. “This
totally goes against my better judgment.”
“There’s nothing worse than better judgment.”
No sooner have I closed the door behind him, than he drops the plastic bag, tosses his hat onto a
chair and pulls me into his arms to kiss me. I remember thinking his lips were made for kissing, and
let me tell you, I was right. Moist and delicious, playful and enthusiastic, his kiss is the exact opposite
of Wade’s carefully controlled touch, leaving me panting when he pulls away.
“Damn, girl.” He swipes moisture from my lips and then licks it off his thumb. “You taste good.”
“Connor, I—”
He doesn’t listen to any of my weak-willed protests. He simply tugs on my hand and pulls me
toward the kitchenette where he proceeds to unpack the plastic bag. There are lemons, salt, shot
glasses and a pack of cards.
He opens a drawer, pulls out a knife and begins slicing up the lemons.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Body-shot-blackjack.”
“What?”
“That’s what we’re going to play.”
“I told you I’d come to your place if I was interested. I didn’t come. I’m still here. You know what
that means, don’t you?”
He shrugs good naturedly. “It means I beat you to the punch.”
“No, it means I haven’t decided.”
He leans forward so that we are nose to nose. He gently bites down on the corner of his mouth. His
lids are at half-mast and his hands rest loosely on my hips. “You’re telling me you didn’t enjoy that
kiss?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“So you did enjoy it.”
I’m about to say no, but it would be a lie. “Yes, but...”
His dimple makes an appearance. “So you’re going to deny us,” he makes a motion between our
bodies, “because...?”
When I don’t answer right away, he answers for me. “...because you feel some sense of loyalty to
Wade?”
I shake my head, concentrating on breathing through my nose because, good lord, it’s suddenly
hard to breathe with him standing so close. “It’s not loyalty. I like Wade. I like him a lot.”
“I like him too. So?”
“So, I’d like to spend the night with him.”
“Yet you just kissed me like you’d like to spend the night with me.”
“Connor...”
He takes my hand and draws it down the front of his jeans. Oh. My. God. Not fair. What he’s
sporting behind his fly is totally not fair.
“You see what you do to me?”
I should pull my hand away. I could, it’s not like he’s forcing me to touch him. But I don’t. I let
him move my hand slowly up and down the delicious denim ridge. My traitorous, fickle body sidles
closer to him and my breath rasps through my throat.
He gently removes my hand from his crotch and lifts it for a kiss. “Tell me you need more
convincing.” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me in for another deliciously moist kiss.
“Because I could spend all night convincing you.”
God, the man is cocky. I elbow him in the solar plexus and go to turn away but he won’t let go. He
tugs one more time, pulling me against him. Nudging my chin up, he kisses me for the third, or is it
the fourth time? I can’t remember. This time his kiss is slow and sweet and thorough. Reminding me
there’s a serious side to Connor.
Damn.
“One round,” he whispers against my lips. “If I win, we keep playing and see where this leads. If
you win, you can send me packing. Okay?”
Bad idea, Tessa. Very, very bad idea. Don’t give in, because knowing him, he’ll cheat and...
“Okay,” I whisper. “You’re on.”
Connor kisses the top of my head. “You’re going down lady.”
“We’ll see.”
He brings everything over to the table, lemon slices, salt shaker, shot glasses, tequila and cards.
Pulling out a chair, he sits and then pats his lap. “Have a seat.”
Right.
I pull out the chair across from him and sit, enjoying the sight of his dimple as he shuffles.
“Low card deals.” He places the deck in front of me. “Cut.”
I cut. He cuts. I’ve got a king. He has a two. Shit!
“That bodes well,” he says with a smirk. Dealing one card to each of us, he gives me a second to
check my card.
It’s an eight. “Hit me,” I say. He flips a card. It’s a ten. “I’ll stay.”
He studies my face. “Hmm,” he says. “Do you have an ace, Ms. Savage?” He keeps watching me
with a narrowed gaze.
I waggle my eyebrows at him.
“Nope. I don’t think you do. I’m guessing you’ve got...” he pauses, never taking his eyes from
mine. “A seven. No. An eight.”
I try really hard not to show any reaction. Really hard. But when Connor nods with that cocky
smile of his, as if he knows exactly what I have, I figure I’ve given myself away. Damn the man! After
checking his card again, he deals himself a two and looks up with a wicked smile. “This is going to be
fun.”
“Do your worst.”
“Oh, I will.” He flips again. It’s a six. He drums his fingers on the table before dealing himself
another card. It’s a jack. “Crap,” he says.
I clap my hands. “You busted!”
“What do you have?”
Flipping my card, I show him my hand. “Eighteen.”
“I figured.” Slowly he flips his card over. It’s an ace. He didn’t bust, he’s got nineteen and he’s
grinning like a lunatic.
Bastard!
The man is wearing the biggest shit-eating grin possible. “Take off your shirt,” He says, rubbing
his hands t
ogether.
“We’re not playing strip poker. You said we were doing shots.”
“Body shots. Hard to do when you’re wearing clothes. Take it off.”
“But you won. I thought I was supposed to do the shot.”
“Winner calls it and I need a shot.” He eyes me like he hasn’t eaten in a week and I’m a big ol’
steak. When I hesitate, he says, “Don’t worry, darlin’, with that expressive face, you’re going to get
plenty of chances for shots.” He leans toward me and flicks open my first button.
“Hey!”
“You look like you need some help.”
“I can manage, thank you.” I stand and turn away to unbutton my shirt.
“Poor sport.”
Looking over my shoulder, I say, “I’m not a poor sport.”
“Then turn around so I can see.”
Giving him the stink eye, I turn and reluctantly undo the buttons down the front of my western
style shirt. I tug the shirt tails out of my jeans and fumble with the buttons on the cuffs.
“You could put a little more pizzazz into it.”
“This isn’t a strip tease.”
“Should be.” Leaning back in his chair, he crosses his arms over his chest and says, “Fine. Do it
your way. As long as it’s coming off and I get to watch.”
Rolling my eyes, I finally get all the buttons undone and then let the shirt slide off my shoulders to
the floor. Connor is on his feet and standing in front of me in less than two seconds. He fingers the
blue lace of my bra strap. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” He takes my hands and places them on
the table behind me, forcing my back into an upward arch. “Lean back.” I lean as he reaches over me
to grab a slice of lemon, purposefully brushing the cup of my bra in the process. He squeezes the
lemon into the hollow of my neck and draws the juice down between my breasts. Then he takes the
salt and shakes it over the lemon juice so it’ll stick. Placing the lemon against my lips, he whispers,
“Open.”
I take the lemon in my mouth while I wait for him to pour his shot.
“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you look right now?”
I don’t answer because I’ve got a lemon in my mouth and besides, he doesn’t give me time to
answer. With a hand around my bare waist, he leans forward, licking the salt from my skin, twirling
his tongue between my breasts all the way up to my throat. Then he shoots the tequila, wipes his lips