“He makes me feel that way.”
And then Larry was wrapping Georgette in her coat, and the goodbyes, well-wishes and promises for another dinner were filling the space around them and the night out was at its end.
Only, one look at Connor, at that half smile she had no trouble reading at all, and she knew—for them—the night was just beginning.
* * *
Connor kicked the hotel door closed and, toeing off his shoes, dropped into the unwelcoming cushions of the couch with a groan. It was official. Megan had spoiled him completely.
He’d gotten hooked on the wind-down of their nightly conversations. On the company of a woman whose mind kept him guessing and eager for more.
And now, for the first time in as long as business travel had been a part of his life, he was keenly aware of what he was missing at home.
It sucked.
Yeah, he still got off on the negotiations, bouts of hardball and the pursuit of his goals. But here at the end of the day...something was missing.
* * *
Eyes glued to the monitor in front of her, Megan tried to focus on her last line of code. Only, something inside her balked, grinding a mental heel into the ground of her concentration.
She needed a break. Some food.
The rattle and clink of coins spilling from a slot machine—Connor’s latest text tone—had her lips curving and the lethargy weighing her down evaporating into thin air.
11:37 p.m....CONNOR: You up?
Delighted, she responded, asking how the meetings had gone. She’d missed him like crazy. No matter how much she’d told herself to rein it in, she hadn’t been able to. And now—
The front bell sounded. Was he back? Here to surprise her?
She sped downstairs, hoping to find Connor waiting. Only, as she reached the first floor, her phone rang again. Answering, she swung the door open and felt her heart flip in her chest.
“Oh, my God, I love you,” she gasped, blinking back tears.
The delivery guy nodded. “I get that a lot, actually.”
Amused, Connor asked through the line, “You two need a moment alone, or you ready for dinner?”
* * *
Twenty minutes and half a sausage-and-mushroom thin-crust later, Megan was curled into the living room couch, phone to her ear as she watched the flames flicker in the gas fireplace.
She could hear the rustle of fabric through the phone, the weary groan—and more than anything, she wished she was there. “I’m glad you called.”
“I’ve gotten kind of used to catching up at the end of the night. I like it.”
Megan closed her eyes, snuggling into the sound of Connor’s voice. “Yeah, I do too.”
“So this marriage thing...it’s working out for you?”
A smile played at the corner of her lips. “Yes, Connor. You’ve proven yourself to be quite the provider.”
“That’s not— Okay, good.”
Megan’s eyes were open wide then, something in her heart snared on the broken edge of what he’d been about to say. “It’s working out for me. Like you said it would.” Her voice quieted. “Even better, maybe.”
A part of her expected some kind of cocky response. But instead, a long breath sounded from across the miles. “For me too.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“I’M TELLING YOU, it’s a done deal.” Connor spun his chair away from his desk, letting his gaze run the familiar lines of downtown San Diego from his top-floor corner office.
“Yeah?” Jeff asked. “Trial’s over? You guys starting production on Connor 2.0?”
He nodded. “Any day now.”
Hell, probably tonight, based on the way Megan had lured him back into bed that morning. Twice.
Fortunately his first meeting hadn’t been until ten, because nothing would have kept him from taking delivery of the naughty promises in his wife’s eyes when he’d leaned over the bed to kiss her goodbye and she’d taken hold of his tie and tugged him down on top of her. Or after he’d showered and come back out of the bathroom to find she’d slipped into his suit shirt, buttoning only two buttons and leaving the necktie in a loose knot to trail down the seductive valley between her breasts.