Chasing Tail

by Roxanne St Claire

  They all blurred together. “No.” She put the phone down. “You can’t come and see me.”

  “You know, sometimes getting closure is a good thing,” Connor said softly. “You might need it, too.”

  She shut her eyes as his words settled on her heart.

  “It could help you.” He put his hand over hers, making circles on her knuckles with his thumb. “Because until you’ve completely let go…you might not be ready…again.”

  “You really think I haven’t let go?”

  “I think that when you can’t say goodbye to someone, it haunts you.”

  “I said goodbye. Also a few other choice words. Then I…” She stroked Frank’s head when he dropped his chin between them on the bench, his big eyes looking from one to the other. “Then I found Frank’s incredibly unlikely girlfriend and left that town ASAP.”

  “And I found mine.” Connor picked up her hand and pressed it to his lips. “And I’m afraid she’s going to leave this town ASAP.”

  “Not a chance,” she promised. “If only I had skipped the meeting and let Yvette sell me expensive French lingerie today.”

  He added a squeeze to the hand still near his mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you have my full support.”

  She laughed and turned toward him. “Do you really think I have to close things with Nathan?”

  “I think…I want your heart completely free and trusting. As long as he’s lurking, with good intentions or bad, we’re distracted from what really matters. Us.”

  Her heart folded in half at that. “I thought what mattered was a mayoral election and beating Mitch.”

  He searched her face, then held her gaze. “We’ll beat Mitch with our eyes closed. Probably you now, with your big-time endorsements, but that’s okay, because Frank will still put the fun in functions, and I will get to help make all the decisions because…I want to be right next to you when you make them.”

  “Connor.” She whispered his name as he leaned in to kiss her, a sense of utter joy rising up.

  “Now, answer his texts. Meet him somewhere public and safe. Close that book, and then I’ll take you to my house for the night, just in case one of them decides to stalk you again. We’ll bring Frank and Demi and hole up until my next shift starts, and you can tell me all about that French lingerie and how I can buy it for you. How does that sound?”

  “Like heaven.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Bushrod’s was packed with the early dinner crowd, but Sadie spotted Nathan almost immediately at a two-top near the front. He stood out without trying to. Yes, he was tall and handsome, but there was an arrogance to the way he held his head, which she used to think was confidence. He sat stiff and still, as if touching the table at Bushrod’s was beneath him, but there had been a time when Sadie would have thought that was just his bone-deep elegance.

  And yes, his face was chiseled in a way that always turned heads, but there was nothing inherently hot about him. He didn’t have natural swagger that came from knowing that if he had to walk into a burning building to save a life, he not only would, but he probably did just that the day before. He didn’t have a sense of humor that could make a woman laugh and want to kiss him, too. He didn’t have hands that could be tender and searing at the same time, or a body that moved with purpose and grace, or a heart that cared for animals as much as people.

  In other words, he wasn’t Connor Mahoney and never would be.

  She walked toward him, comfortable in the knowledge that Connor was sitting at the bar, where he could “keep an eye on things” while she talked to her ex.

  There might have been a time in her life when that would feel overbearing and the polar opposite of the kind of “liberation” a fan of Susan B. Anthony would want. But protection didn’t diminish her freedom; it enhanced her confidence to take the chair across from Nathan, look him in the eyes, and tell him to get the hell out of her life.

  She got as far as looking him in the eyes when he reached for both her hands, squeezed tight, and then stared at the left one in horror. “Is that real, Sadie?”

  “You would say it is.” She managed to free her hands. “It’s lab grown.”

  Most of the color drained from his face. “Where did you get it?”

  She couldn’t lie—it was kind of fun to throw him off his high horse by showing him just how fast she’d bounced back. “I think the proper question is who gave it to me. His name is Connor Mahoney, and if you—”

  “Oh, the mayor thing.” He seemed moderately relieved. “But…” He took her hand and studied the ring very closely. “HPHT? It looks like it.”

  “I don’t know, Nathan.” She couldn’t even remember what manufacturing technique the acronym stood for, because the days when she cared about that industry were so long ago. She covered the ring with her other hand and looked at him. “And we didn’t come here to talk about rings.”

  “Well…maybe we did,” he murmured, running his hand over the condensation on his drink.

  “What does that mean?” Was he going to get mad that she’d met someone? Because that would be rich.

  “It means…” He swallowed, taking a minute to plan what he’d say, something he frequently did. “Look, Sadie, I made a mistake. A big one. A regrettable one. I got…swayed by status and power. It happens in Washington. But…” He held up his hand, not giving her a chance to interrupt. “But now I know what really matters. And I would like to try again. Please move back home.”

  She tried not to laugh. She really did, but she had to drop her head back and chuckle heartily. “Um…no.”

  “It’s over with Jane,” he said quickly, as if she were waiting for him to say that before she’d throw her arms around him and take him back. “I don’t even talk to her. I assigned someone else to deal with lobbying her and am staying clear of her office.”

  “Too much of a temptation?”

  “A reminder,” he said softly. “Of what I gave up.” He inched closer to look her in the eyes and reached across the table to touch her face. “You.”

  She eased back and took a steadying breath, happy that not one cell in her whole body had any reaction to his touch. Except for the need to recoil. And close up shop. After all, that’s why she was here.

  “Nathan, you can take comfort from the knowledge that I forgive you.” There. It hadn’t even been that hard to say. She did forgive him, because she didn’t care about him, not one tiny bit. And that was true liberation.

  “Do you really?” He seemed just a little desperate, and she almost believed him, until his eyes shifted down for just a flash of a second as he checked the phone on his lap.

  “Yes,” she said on a sigh. “It’s too much weight to carry around not to forgive you. And I’ll forgive Jane, too, since she made such a deal of things today.”

  “Oh. What happened today?”

  Shouldn’t he have been just a little more shocked that Sadie had seen Jane that very day? “She showed up at the local paper to sing my praises and try to help me get elected. Then she offered me the COS job, which might surprise the chief of staff she already has.”

  His brows flicked with interest. There was a time when he would have stared in surprise and shock and then congratulated her, knowing how much she wanted that promotion. How much she used to want it.

  When he looked down at his phone again, she stole a glance to her left and caught Connor’s eye at the bar, where he sipped beer and talked to Billy, the owner. He lifted the bottle in a secret toast, but she couldn’t respond, because Nathan grabbed her left hand again, the phone in his other hand.

  “Can I take a picture of it?”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “You know the NLDA likes to see the product in the wild. It’s part of helping people understand that they’re as real as mined diamonds.”

  She felt her face squish up. “Is that really all you care about? Don’t you even want to know about the man who gave this to me?”

 
; His eyes tapered to dark slits as he leaned a little closer. “Sadie, listen to me. That man doesn’t matter. He can’t matter to you, because you loved me. And I believe in my heart of hearts, you still do.”

  “Do you even have a heart of hearts, Nathan?”

  He held the phone up to snap a picture.

  “Don’t!” Fury shot through her, making her flip her hand and knock the phone hard enough to send it flying across the table. It landed on the floor next to her chair with a clunk.

  At the bar, Connor sat up straighter, watching the exchange.

  “Why would you do that?” she asked.

  “Because I have to be…sure it’s lab grown. I can send that picture to the association and—”

  She cut him off with a swipe of her hand and leaned down to grab the phone off the floor just as it lit up with an incoming text.

  Jane: No go. Try again tomorrow. Don’t worry.

  The words didn’t make sense, but the heart emoji did.

  Oh God. What the hell was their game? All the forgiveness she’d so magnanimously offered disappeared. In its place was anger, disgust, distrust, and every other bad thing she could heap on this man and the woman she once looked up to as much as her own mother.

  No, honestly, more than her own mother. And neither Jane nor her mother deserved it any more than this poor excuse for a man. Liars, the lot of them.

  “Here.” She handed him the phone. “You missed a text. Goodbye, Nathan. You want closure? Watch, and you’ll get it.”

  With that, she stood, pushed her chair in, and walked through the tables straight to the bar. With each step, Connor sat up a little straighter and looked more interested and curious.

  When she reached his seat, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him long, hard, and with tongue. His hands came around her back as he pulled her closer, giving every bit as well as he was getting in this kiss.

  As they finally broke contact, all of Bushrod’s exploded into applause, and next to Connor, Frank barked noisily.

  When she turned to acknowledge the crowd’s reaction, she caught sight of Nathan’s back as he slithered out the door.

  “Nice closure, Ear Girl.”

  Yes, it was. She smiled up at him. “Take me home, Lieutenant. And don’t expect to get any sleep.”

  * * *

  The whole scene at Bushrod’s had been like some magical foreplay that had Connor and Sadie making out like teenagers in the truck until Frank literally pawed them apart. They kissed in his driveway, undressed in his living room, and left a trail of underwear on the way to his bedroom.

  “I gotta admit, Sadie,” Connor murmured against her throat as he worked his way down for a taste of her world-class breasts. “You had me a little nervous at the bar.”

  Holding his head, she lifted it to look into his eyes. “Nervous? About Nathan?”

  “I saw you cover the ring and throw your head back with laughter, and then he touched your face, which I consider an invasion of my personal property.”

  She laughed, biting her lip. “I am not your…” Her voice trailed off as his hand dipped between her legs. “Okay, I am.” She let out a whimper of delight. “But you had nothing to be nervous about. Please, Connor, don’t talk about him. Not here. Not now. Just keep…yes. Do that. And more of…oh my God, do that again.”

  He smiled into the next kiss, which he planted on her nipple, getting a kick of pleasure as the tip grew hard under his tongue.

  But he had to lift his head again, making her let out a little squeak of disappointment.

  “But I really liked when you walked across Bushrod’s like you owned the place and then kissed me like…”

  “Like I owned you.”

  “Which, shit, you kinda do.”

  Laughter bubbled up. “So we’re even. Owners of each other… Please stop talking and remembering that bar. I only want this. You. Now.”

  He followed orders happily, stroking her heavenly skin, rolling on top, then on bottom, then side by side to find new ways to intertwine and connect. Every time, every touch, every single sensation with Sadie was a little different from the one before. She made love like she lived, with unexpected joy and confidence and independence.

  With that thought, he had to stop and eye her again.

  “What?” she said with a laugh of feigned impatience. “Don’t look like that. I know you have condoms in the drawer right there. I watched you put them there last time we were here.”

  “No, it’s not…” He shook his head, unable to get the phrase out. “We don’t own each other, Sadie. You know that.”

  Her smile wavered. “Of course not. Why?” She stroked his face, the lust clearing from her eyes as she looked at him. “What’s wrong?”

  “This is big,” he said, the words slipping out without any mental preparation or editing. He wasn’t trying to charm or amuse or impress her. He just wanted to tell her what was in his heart.

  “What’s big…other than the obvious?”

  He smiled, but shook his head. “No jokes. This is…big.” Why couldn’t he think of a better word? Real? Amazing? Permanent? They all sounded like something they’d say on the campaign trail. But this change in his life was huge.

  She sat up a little, still holding him, but looking into his eyes with a question in hers. “What is it, Connor? What are you trying to tell me?”

  “I guess that…I couldn’t stand to lose you.” He held her a little closer, pressing her against him. “Not just lose, which yes, I’d hate. But to lose you. It’s not a game or a contest or an election or…or…casual dating. Not this. Not anymore.”

  She blinked at him, nodding slowly. “I feel that, too.”

  But did she feel it as deeply? As wholly? As…forever-ly as he did? He didn’t know how to ask her without sounding pathetic or desperate or like he was pushing this relationship too far, too fast.

  But he wanted to. He wanted to push it as far and as fast as it could go and never look back.

  “It’s not casual,” she agreed in a whisper. “Nothing about this is casual.”

  Maybe she did get it. “You really feel that way?”

  “Connor. You shouldn’t have to ask.” Kissing him, she rolled over so she was on top, moving like magic over his body, taking…yeah, taking ownership. And God, he wanted her to have it.

  He closed his eyes and went along for the ride, inhaling her sweet scent, clutching handfuls of her incredible hair, lost in the sound of his name on her lips, and building to something much more complicated and mind-blowing than a simple release.

  As he pulled her along to the same exquisite place, Connor felt tears sting his eyes and sweat trail down his temples. His skin was on fire, his body was helpless, and his whole heart and soul felt like they’d finally found their way home.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Sadie opened her eyes when the mattress dipped at the ungodly hour of four thirty.

  “Do firefighters’ wives ever get used to this?” The words slipped out in a sleepy, half-conscious state, but the minute they were out, her eyes popped wide open.

  Firefighters’ wives? What was she thinking?

  “Yes, and so do some firefighters’ husbands,” Connor answered, obviously not rattled by her insinuation. “Such sexism from a Susan B. fan.”

  “It’s early for us suffragettes.”

  He sat on the bed and kissed her hair, stealing a slow ride up and down her bare body with his hands. “And those spouses and partners are grateful for the twelve-hour shift that beats the hell out of the twenty-four. I will see you…” He found her mouth. “At five fifteen tonight rather than five fifteen tomorrow morning. Good, right?”

  “That’s good,” she moaned as his big, callused hand skated over her way-too-stimulated-for-this-hour body.

  “What are you doing today?” he asked.

  “I think I’ll go lingerie shopping,” she murmured, arching and practically begging for more. “For that French stuff.”

  “French
stuff?” He leaned over and circled her nipple with his tongue. “That sounds hot.”

  “That is…” She clasped his head and added some pressure. “Hot.”

  “I have to go, but how are you going to get home?”

  “It’s not a long walk,” she said, rising up on her elbows. “A mile to town? I can take Frank. He adores me, you know.”

  “Who doesn’t?” He brushed some hair off her face. “You’re going to walk from here to town in the heels you had on yesterday?”

  “I have sneakers and jeans over on that chair. I changed into slacks and dress shoes before we went campaigning a few days ago, remember? I just need a top. Don’t you have something I can wear?”

  “Yeah.” He got off the bed and went to the dresser. “Here’s a Bitter Bark FD T-shirt. Walk of shame, baby.”

  “Are you kidding? Walk of pride.” She grabbed the T-shirt he tossed at her and squished the navy blue cotton over her face, inhaling the scent of his detergent. “I love you in this shirt.”

  Oh crap. Did she really just say that? As if saying wives hadn’t been bad enough?

  “It ought to get you some votes,” he joked casually. Maybe he missed the love part? “See you tonight, Ear Girl.”

  “Bye.” She wiggled her fingers and stuffed the shirt under her cheek, turning over to catch a few more hours of sleep.

  She woke when another tongue was on her cheek, this one way too large and frantic to be Connor’s.

  “Frankendog,” she murmured, grabbing his head for some love and peeking out the blinds to see the sun was well up. “You need to hit the grass, big guy. And we better get home and check on our girl, Demi.”

  He barked as if the name meant something—and maybe it did. A few minutes later, she was headed toward town with Frank on his leash, walking with that same spring in her step she couldn’t seem to hide lately.

  “Nice shirt, Sadie,” a stranger called as she walked past town hall toward the square.