Darknight(61)
Mary Mullen had told me Connor was lost. At the time I’d wondered at her remark, but didn’t have much opportunity to pursue it. Maybe it was simply that he’d lost his way, allowed his brother to control his life because he didn’t have many other options. It was possible that being with me now had given him the chance he so desperately needed to separate himself from his brother’s whims and ambitions, to make his own future.
I hoped so. He’d been through enough already. It was time for him to shine.
But first things first. I leaned over and gave him a kiss…on the cheek, because I could tell from the set of his jaw and the glint in his eyes that he was not in the mood for anything else. “Do you want to shower first, or should I? Because I know if we both try to get in that claw-foot tub at the same time, we’re just asking for trouble.”
* * *
He let me shower first, and then went in the bathroom when I was done. I didn’t know if Damon had replied while I was out of the room, and I got the feeling I really shouldn’t ask. So I didn’t.
Instead, while Connor was showering I went downstairs and went to take stock of the refrigerator to see what I could make for breakfast. There was an untouched carton of eggs, and an unopened package of applewood-smoked bacon. I recalled that I’d planned to make Adam a big breakfast the day after — well, the day after we were going to spend a night together. A night that never happened, thanks to Damon Wilcox.
I couldn’t even be angry about that. Not anymore. Not when his little plot had brought me to Connor.
But then I thought, Adam, and shook my head. I really, really hoped that he wasn’t around, that I wouldn’t have to see him. Cowardly, I know, but I also knew that him seeing me with Connor would only hurt him, and I didn’t want that. I wanted some time to pass so he could get a little distance, move on, maybe — I hoped — meet somebody else, and realize he shouldn’t have to settle for someone who didn’t really love him, not in the way he deserved.
Shaking that off for now, I realized that everything I’d bought was still fresh enough to use. After all, it hadn’t even been a week yet. Or rather, I’d bought these items exactly a week ago, just the day before I’d been taken from this very house and my entire life had changed.
For the better, although I certainly hadn’t looked at the situation in that way at the time. Now, though….
I glanced upward, more or less in the direction of the bathroom. In the background, I could hear the faint metallic sound of water running through the pipes. If I even turned on the tap right now to start some coffee, I knew I’d hear Connor yelling a few seconds later, since the antiquated water heater couldn’t handle the load. So much I’d planned to do here, so much that still needed to be done. Would it happen? I had no idea. I didn’t know where Connor and I were going to end up permanently. It seemed unthinkable that I would abandon my clan, leave Jerome, but I didn’t know if I was strong enough to live with their censure day in and day out.
Well, worry about that later, I told myself. Baby steps. Like getting breakfast together first.
That seemed logical enough. Never make big decisions on an empty stomach, my aunt had told me once, and although she apparently wasn’t speaking to me right now, that didn’t mean her advice wasn’t sound.
The water turned off upstairs, which meant I could make myself some much-needed coffee. I slipped a hazelnut cream pod into the Keurig and then pulled out the ingredients to make a batch of biscuits. Mixing and sifting the flour and baking powder helped to take my mind off my problems, and so did the smell of bacon once I got that going. Nothing like bacon to take your mind off your woes.
Being male, Connor was drawn to the smell of that bacon like a moth to a flame. He came into the room a few minutes after the scent began to drift out of the kitchen and through the house. His nose twitched appreciatively.
“Bacon? Seriously? I was sure we would have to go out and then get glared at by every McAllister within a fifty-foot radius.” His hair was still damp; obviously he’d just blotted it and hadn’t bothered with much else. He was fully dressed, but I noticed he’d wandered down in his socks, leaving his shoes upstairs.
“I wouldn’t subject you to that. Coffee? I know it’s not your French press, but I’ve got some flavors that aren’t too frilly. Italian roast, maybe?”
His gaze flickered toward the coffeemaker, and for a second I thought he might make a crack about pre-fab coffee. But then he nodded. “Sounds good.”
I went and got it started for him, and went back over to the stove so I could flip the bacon. “I forgot to ask last night — you’re not going to be sticking pins in voodoo dolls or something to make sure you can get a room at the Weatherford for Anthony and Sydney, are you?”