“For myself, I don’t, Megan. But for you— Hell. I know how well you’ll fit into my life. I’m not entirely sure you’ve had enough opportunity to see how I’ll fit into yours.”
She shook her head. “How can you say that? I’ve had two months—”
“The first one didn’t count. Take two more. Be sure.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead and then set her back, changing the subject as though they’d been talking about the weather. “I’ve got meetings late tonight and first thing tomorrow, so don’t wait up. I’ll probably crash at the office.”
And then he was gone.
* * *
Connor’s fists clenched, his knuckles turning white atop the dark mahogany of his office desk as the image of Megan’s stricken face once again flooded his consciousness.
Damn it, he’d known better. But he’d been so hell-bent on convincing her to commit, to see he was the man she wanted, he’d in essence become a man he wasn’t. And those tears—that overflowing well of emotion in her eyes—were all the evidence he needed to know the whole married courtship had gotten out of hand.
A quick knock sounded a moment before his secretary’s head popped past his office door. “Excuse me, Connor, but the conference call with Zurich is starting in five minutes. Did you need me to send those files...?”
She’d let the words trail off rather than actually saying what they both knew. Those files he’d been working on and had promised to have to her a half hour before. Those files he still hadn’t finished.
Damn it. This wasn’t the guy he was.
He needed to get his head on straight. He needed to get some perspective. And he needed to make sure the man he was giving Megan was the man she’d be spending the rest of her life with.
He was confident she’d still want the marriage.
Even after a readjustment in expectations, there was no way her plan could compete with his.
But first things first. The office. That was how it had always been. How it always would be.
“Stella, see if they can push back a half hour. I’ll get the files to you in twenty. My apologies for the inconvenience. Yours and theirs.”
Time to get his focus back where it belonged.
* * *
The front door sounded with the muffled thud Megan had been pretending not to listen for since the previous morning. Connor had told her he wasn’t coming home, but a part of her had been hoping.
Waiting.
Trying not to think of all the sleepless nights she’d spent as a little girl, weighing every creak and groan, listening for a return that wouldn’t come. Because despite Connor’s abrupt change of heart regarding moving forward with their marriage, she knew he was coming back.
He wasn’t walking away. He wasn’t leaving her.
This wasn’t the same kind of blindside. Startling, yes, but not devastating.
He was looking out for her. Taking the extra time to ensure they didn’t face the same doubts that had been a part of their first month together.
And now Connor was home. Back. Hanging his coat in the closet and dropping his keys on the table, offering the same greeting he did every night.
“Hello, Mrs. Reed.”
Relief surged through her as she closed the distance between them, offering the kiss that had become a part of their routine from nearly the first. Everything was fine. Nothing had changed.
She wanted to bury her head in the front of Connor’s shirt, press her forehead against the hollow at the center of his chest and give in to the emotion threatening to overwhelm her. She wanted his arms around her, his reassurance hot against her ear. She wanted all his sensible reason, soothing the wild insecurity that had plagued her since the minute he’d walked out the door.
Only, insecurity was a part of her she couldn’t stand. It was something she didn’t want in this life she was building, and so rather than collapsing against the man she’d literally been aching for, she satisfied herself with the sight of his easy smile. With smoothing the shoulder of his shirt as she asked how his day had been. If he’d slept all right at the office apartment. With his assurance that he’d been fine—had spent so many nights there it felt as much like home as this apartment.