“I did stay with him... Of course I’m fine, but that’s not—Gail, you’re getting married today— Yes, he is very handsome...”
This was the difference between men and women. When Connor texted Jeff to let him know something had come up and he’d get in touch next week, the guy had texted back a single word. Later. End of discussion. Granted, it might have gone longer if he’d mentioned the something in question was an exchange of vows, followed by a case of acute amnesia...but whatever.
“I know it’s not like me... No, there weren’t drugs involved—Stop! Gail, today is about you. When should I come by to help?”
Walking the juice over to the table, he set it down by her hand, running a thumb over her shoulder to make sure she saw it.
Then, covering the small of her back with his palm, he leaned close to her free ear. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
Her eyes were wide when she turned slowly to look at him, and pure masculine satisfaction surged through him at the obvious impact his actions had spurred.
She wanted to be convinced.
“Wait, what?” she asked, her attention firmly back on the call at hand. “You don’t want me—?”
Connor looked up, curious.
“Because of Jodie and Tina. Right... No, no, anything to make this day perfect for you.”
She sounded uncertain but resigned. “Well, I’ll see you down at the limo, then. And, Gail—could you get my bridesmaid dress sent over here?”
After a few more details were exchanged, Megan hung up and turned a hesitant smile his way. “Good news. We’ve got a few more hours to get to know each other.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Gail doesn’t want to deal with Jodie and Tina while she’s getting ready, and she can’t have me if they aren’t there, so we’ll all meet at the limo when it’s time to go.”
“Come on over here,” he said, patting the cushion beside him.
Megan crossed to him, a strained smile stiff on her lips, apprehension lurking in her eyes.
Good news his foot. She’d been banking on the break.
Taking her hand, he pulled her down beside him, leaving space between the crook of his knee and her hip, but keeping a light hold on her fingers. “Look, let’s forget about all the reasons I’m such a stellar choice for a husband right now and relax. Talk.”
Her eyes narrowed on his mouth and she pulled back the slightest degree. “Why do I feel like you’re about to sell me some snake oil?”
Connor didn’t release her fingers, but tightened his hold, reeling her back in. “Because you’re mildly pessimistic. Now, knock it off. You don’t remember, but if there’s one thing we do well...it’s talk. About anything.”
To prove his point, he picked up one of the papers delivered with breakfast and tossed it into Megan’s lap. “So let’s get this ball rolling. Check the headlines and then give me the first thing that comes to mind.”
* * *
“You are so cheating!” Megan accused, her laughter doing little to back up the finger she jabbed at Connor’s chest.
The finger he then grabbed and used to tow her off the knees she been perched on. And suddenly she was tucked in the small crease between Connor’s half-sprawled form and the back of the couch. Again.
And again, she planted her palm on the center of his chest, refusing to admit how tempting it was to simply stay there, and pushed herself up.
Connor shook his head, all who, me? “Cheating? We’re talking.”
She shot him a skeptical look, not buying his wide-eyed-innocent routine for one minute. That he would even try it with a mouth like his was almost too much to bear. “Sure we are. Talking about our views on education. A topic we have remarkably similar beliefs on.”
Another wry smile twisted his lips. “So I’d like our kids to live at home, attending private school. And you agree. What’s the problem?”