A woman reserves the right to change her mind. His words tiptoed across her mind, brushing against her wants and wishes and woes. If they had sex again…leaving would be like stubbing a sore toe.
Connor Pierce had made it clear. He wasn’t a hang-around, settle-down kind of guy. As good as this felt, she was just his…pancake buddy.
Grabbing the remote, she said, “I know the perfect show. Antiques Roadshow. I save them to help put me to sleep.”
The first antique item up for discussion was a chamber pot. They laughed when the woman said she’d thought it was a bowl and had used it to serve soup. After the chamber pot came a painting, then a dog figurine. Brie’s eyes got heavy.
When she first let them flutter closed, she was relieved her mind didn’t replay the shooting. But was it exhaustion, or Connor’s presence, that brought peace of mind?
* * *
Connor woke up with a major hard-on, sharing the sofa with Brie and a feral cat. They’d somehow ended up stretched out beside each other on the oversized sofa.
A sliver of light from the window hit his face, telling him it was later than he thought it was. But because he didn’t need to be at work until ten, he didn’t jump up. Brie lay on her side, facing him, tucked into the crook of the couch. The cat lay stretched out in the empty space at her feet.
Lifting his head, Connor gave the cat a look to confirm he wasn’t about to go on the attack. When the cat just stared, Connor resettled and watched Brie wrinkle her nose. She shifted slightly and it brought her lower body against his, and damn if that didn’t feel good. His pelvis wanted to start moving against her in that age-old dance of want and need. What he wouldn’t give to kiss her, remove her clothes, and…
Nope. He’d promised.
The cat lifted, stretched, yawned, then jumped down. Brie’s eyes opened. She put a hand over her mouth.
“Hi,” he said. “How’s my pancake buddy this morning?”
She cut her eyes downward, making it apparent that she’d noticed his situation. “You need a cold shower. And I need to brush my teeth.”
He sat up, his jeans so tight in the crotch, he gave them a tug.
Brie reached for her phone on the end table. “It’s almost eight.”
“Wow, we slept five hours,” he said. “Do you know how long it’s been since I slept five straight hours?” And no dreams.
Her blue eyes, still heavy with sleep, glanced up. “It was the show.”
“No. It’s your company.” He knew Brie Ryan was good for him.
She pushed off the sofa with a quick easy move. “I’m going to brush my teeth.”
“Hurry, I gotta pee like a racehorse,” he said.
She looked back. “That’s crass.”
“That’s crass? You made me watch a show about shit buckets last night.”
A sudden laugh left her lips. And damn if he didn’t love waking up to that noise. Going to bed with that noise. Sharing a meal with that noise. Yup, good for him.
“Go use the bathroom,” she said.
He shot up. “Thanks.”
He took care of his bladder, washed his hands, then found her toothpaste and finger-brushed his teeth. When he stepped out, she stood in the hall, looking adorable in the sweatpants and T-shirt. She moved in and grabbed her toothbrush. She didn’t shut the door, so he moved behind her and watched her in the mirror. When she started humming the birthday song, he laughed.
“What?” She spoke through a mouthful of minty foam.
“Nothing.” He wrapped his arms around her. They stared at each other while she rinsed her mouth. Then turning around, she put her hands on his chest. The soft touch melted his insides and hardened other things.
He wiped a bit of white foam off the corner of her mouth. “I want to kiss you so badly it hurts.”
“You probably shouldn’t.”
“Probably?” He brushed her hair off her cheek. “I like you, Brie. Do you know how long it’s been since I…liked someone? And it’s not just sex. Never mind that it was mind-blowing. I like your company. I like watching you sleep. Watching you brush your teeth. I like how you laugh. I like sharing my food with you. And call me crazy but I think you like me, too.”
She blinked. “I do, but this is almost over and it’s stupid to start something when it’s just going to hurt in the end.”
“Baton Rouge isn’t that far away.”
“I don’t think I’m going back to Baton Rouge. Eliot lives in San Francisco. I’m considering going there. And if we…well, it’d just complicate things.”
She was moving to San Francisco? The thought sank into his chest like a heavy stone. “It already feels complicated. I don’t want…I just…” Could he ask her not to go? Did he have that right?
She didn’t say anything. And neither did he. She just stared up at him through her lashes.
“Oh, frack!” she said, then her mouth was on his.
It went from a morning kiss to hot damn. Her hands slipped under his shirt and across his bare abdomen. His morning stiffy grew. Pulling back, recalling his promise, he met her eyes, which were wide with want and desire. “You’re okay with this?”
For one second, he thought she was going to end it, but then she started pulling off his shirt.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Brie wanted this. Wanted him. Even if it was just for right now.
Oh, she wasn’t lying when she said it was going to hurt later. It was going to hurt like a giant paper cut right across her heart. Like it did when you lost someone you cared about. And she did. She cared about Connor Pierce. It might not be love, but it was a heck of a lot more than like.
But right now…it was going to feel wonderful.
He helped in removing his shirt. Then he removed hers. She unbuttoned the top of his jeans, then ran her hand over the bulge behind his zipper. He pushed his jeans down his legs, and her sweats followed.
“You weren’t wearing panties. I wouldn’t have slept a wink if I’d known that.”
She grinned.
He brushed a finger across her lips. “What do you want?”
“You,” she said. Longer than right now.
“Bedroom?” he asked.
“Sofa,” she said.
“Sofa sex, huh? Did you think about it last night?”
“Maybe,” she said.
They moved to the sofa. They kissed. They touched. His mouth grazed over her, leaving a trail of pleasure. He took his time with her. When she tried to speed him up, ready to feel him inside her, he laughed and went back to doing what he was doing to make her lose patience.
“You want me to beg?” she asked, frustrated, a hollow ache pulsing between her legs.
He grabbed his wallet to get a condom. “Do you know how happy you make me?”
“I know how happy you make me.” She had to swallow twice to keep the tears from her eyes.
It was no wonder that neither of them lasted more than three minutes. Afterward, she rolled off him and lay on her side. He pulled her against him, but neither of them spoke. She was careful not to touch his chest, but her gut said it didn’t matter. There was a tenseness in him.
What was he thinking? Did he long to get up and run again? “You okay?”
“Great,” he said. “You?”
“Yeah.” She closed her eyes. The silence got thicker than lumpy gravy. “What time do you have to be at work?”
“Ten,” he said.
“Maybe you should go shower.”
“Yeah.” He spoke too fast, as if happy to be free. But then she felt the soft brush of his lips against hers—and all the way to her heart. His eyes met hers and she could swear he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He simply pulled away and walked out of the living room—still completely naked.
* * *
Connor shut the bathroom door. It had been wonderful. Awesome. Better than the first time.
And scarier.
Emotions he didn’t know if he was ready to feel bounced around his chest
. Yet he felt them. Every single one of them.
She was moving to San Francisco. Holy fuck!
Back in the living room, his phone rang and he went to answer it. Brie must have already gone to her bedroom. He grabbed his cell off the coffee table. He didn’t recognize the number.
“Detective Pierce.”
“Yes, this is Mary Stanley with CPS. We met—”
“Yeah, I remember.” Had she already heard about the baby’s mother? “I was going to call you today.”
“You were?” she asked.
“I suppose you heard.”
“Heard what?”
“About Ms. Berger.”
“I haven’t heard anything. But that’s why I’m calling. We did some research yesterday. We don’t think the baby belongs to Ms. Berger.”
“Wait. What?”
“Not according to Ms. Berger’s foster mother. She said she’s seen her every three or four months and the girl’s never been pregnant, but one of her roommates had been.”
Connor recalled Berger roomed with two women. One was Alma, Brie’s sister. The baby could be Brie’s niece. Connor dropped back down on the sofa. “Does she remember the mother’s name?”
“No. But she said she was a petite blonde with blue eyes.”
Brie, blond and petite, came back into the room. She studied him.
“Look, I’m not at the office yet. I’ll call you back.” Connor hung up and ran a hand over his face.
“Who was that?” Brie asked, as if sensing it was about her.
“The CPS agent. She was calling about Regina Berger’s baby. It wasn’t hers.”
“Huh?” she asked.
“The baby wasn’t Regina’s.”
“Whose was it?”
When he didn’t answer immediately, her eyes widened. “My sister’s?”
* * *
“Go on in. All the kids are right there,” Melissa, the foster mother, said.
Brie walked into the living room. Connor stayed in the entryway, talking with the foster mom.
There were four children in the room, but Brie zeroed in on the little girl in the walker. She wasn’t crying, but she looked like she had been.
The first thing Brie noticed was the baby’s large eyes. Light blue with dark rings around the pupils. Just like hers. And her sister’s. The baby barely had hair, but what was there was a light blond.
Without warning, the little girl smiled. Her big grin showed two tiny teeth on the bottom.
Brie’s breath caught and a rush of emotions did laps around her chest. She’d told herself she could do this and not get ahead of herself; that she would look at the child but wait until the DNA came back before she made conclusions.
Too late. That little girl was her niece. Brie knew it like she knew her own name. Tears filled her eyes at the thought of her sister being kidnapped and worrying about the baby she’d left behind.
Had her father not known Alma had a daughter? What about Alma’s mom?
The baby flapped her little arms at her. Brie ached to pick her up, but her hands and heart felt shaky.
Connor and the foster mom walked up beside her. The baby saw Connor and started jumping up and down as she held up her hands. Her little fingers began opening and closing, as if begging to be picked up.
“She wants you to hold her,” Brie said.
He didn’t move.
“Pick her up,” Brie said.
The baby squealed. When Connor still didn’t reach for the child, Brie moved in and lifted the little girl into her arms. She was lighter than Brie thought. A tiny palm came against her face, and a lump formed in her throat.
“How old is she?” she asked the foster mom.
“We don’t know for sure. The doctor said she thought she was around a year, but she’s only got two teeth and is fifteen pounds. She could be younger, or maybe malnutrition slowed down her growth.”
“They didn’t feed her?” The lump doubled in size.
“She’s underweight. However, she seems healthy otherwise. And she’s a good baby.”
Regret came with Brie’s next breath. If she’d called her sister back, maybe the baby wouldn’t have lost her mother, she wouldn’t have gone hungry.
Ten minutes later, Brie and Connor walked out. She felt Connor’s eyes on her.
“Do you think she’s your niece?” Connor asked.
“Yes, I do.” She inhaled. “Are you still going to see my dad today?”
He nodded.
“Great. I’m coming with you.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“No, but I’m coming.”
* * *
“I don’t know,” Eliot said when Brie told him she was going to see her father. After Connor had taken her home, she’d driven straight to the hospital to visit Carlos before making the trip to Henderson.
Brie bit down on her lip. “I don’t want to believe he knew about the baby, but I wouldn’t be surprised.” Brie looked up at the clock. Five minutes until visiting hours.
“You don’t know she’s your niece,” Eliot said.
“I do. I don’t know how, but I know.” She swallowed. “She went hungry.”
“Scumbags,” Eliot spat out, drawing a few stares from the other people in the waiting room. “What do you expect your father to do?” He lowered his voice. “Take the child in?”
“No. He screwed up with both me and my sister. Alma’s mother may want her, but…I don’t know. I’m sure they’ll check that she’s decent and capable. And if she isn’t, I’ll take her. It’s the right thing to do.”
“Are you ready for that, Brie?”
Tears filled Brie’s eyes. “Were you ready for me? I had no one and you were there for me.”
“You were the best thing that ever happened to me.” He put his arm around her. “And if it goes that way, you know I’ll help.”
“I expect you to. I’m thinking about moving to San Francisco.”
“I’d love that,” he said. “I’ll support whatever decision you make.”
She nodded. “I have an appointment tomorrow to get blood drawn for a DNA test.”
Tory, who’d gone to grab something to eat, walked into the room. His expression was complete joy, unlike most of the people there.
“Have you seen him yet?” Tory asked.
“Not yet.”
“He’s doing so well, Brie. Last night, they let me in a couple of extra times because he asked for me. And when I called to check in a few minutes ago, they said he’s awake, and the doctor’s moving him out of ICU.”
Brie smiled, then had to ask. “Does he remember anything about…what happened?”
Tory nodded. “He didn’t say much, but he asked if they’d caught the guy who shot him. I told him that he was gone…dead, but I didn’t tell him about Agent Calvin. I’m not sure he can handle it. But he asked about you. I told him you’d been here a lot and would be back again today.”
People in the room stood and started heading for the ICU doors.
“It must be time,” Brie said.
“You two go in,” Eliot said.
When they entered his room, Carlos pushed up. He looked weak, gaunt, and had wires and tubes tangled around him, but his smile was contagious.
She smiled back at him, despite the lump in her throat. “About time you woke up.”
“I know.” His smile lessened. “What’s happened.”
Tory spoke up, “We shouldn’t worry—”
“Stop.” His expression hardened. “Who was behind this, Brie?”
Brie looked at Tory, who shrugged, then she looked back at Carlos. “It was Calvin.”
“I didn’t want to think that,” Carlos said, “but I was afraid.”
She gave him the lowdown.
He lay there muttering shit and damn every few minutes.
When she got to the part about Rosaria, his frown tightened. “Tell me she’s okay.”
“She is.”
“Did you get Pablo’s
phone?” Carlos asked.
“No.”
“I mailed it. I was afraid they were on to me. Rosaria said someone from the FBI called that phone. It was dead, so I couldn’t get…any information, but—” His voice seemed to crack.
“She told us. APD is checking with the post office. But Calvin confessed to everything in a note he left.”
“He left a note?” He closed his eyes for a second, no doubt feeling everything she did. Anger and yet grief for the man they used to know and respect. “You okay?”
“You know me. I’m resilient.”
“Resilient? Yes. Superwoman? No.”
“Oh, she had help.” Tory chuckled. “A hunky blond. You ought to see the looks they give each other. There’s enough sexual tension to blow the hospital off its foundation. If they aren’t dirtying up the sheets yet then my name isn’t Tory.”
Brie shot Tory a stern look, then continued to tell Carlos about her sister’s baby and her planned trip to see her dad.
Tory’s phone rang. “It’s work. I should take this.” He gave Carlos’s hand a squeeze and walked out.
Carlos leaned back into his pillow, as if already exhausted. “A blond, huh?”
“Your husband exaggerates.”
“You didn’t deny the…”—he paused and swallowed—“dirtying-up-the-sheets comment.”
Brie frowned. “It’s not serious.”
“You’ve slept with only one guy since your ex. How can it not be serious?”
“He’s not…the serious type. Especially now,” she muttered.
“Now?”
“I might end up with custody of my niece.” On the drive back to her place, she and Connor had hardly spoken. Brie’s mind had been occupied with thoughts of having to take in the baby and the changes it would bring.
“You don’t know for sure she’s your niece.”
“We might not have had the DNA test yet, but I know. She looks just like my baby pictures and I’ll bet her mom’s baby pictures.”
“Okay, but even if you take her, you can still date.”
“He’s not the…kid type.”
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