Kate Hoffmann - Conor

She opened her eyes to find him leaning over her, a serious expression on his face. Reaching out, Olivia placed a finger over his lips. “No,” she murmured. “This day is perfect. I don’t want to spoil it. There’ll be time to talk later. I just want to enjoy the fresh air and the sunshine.” She flopped back on the grass and stared up at the sky. “How could I have been so terrified just a week ago and so incredibly happy today? I just want it to last.”

“I’m glad,” he said, sitting back.

She shaded her eyes with her hand to study his face, then rolled over on her stomach. “What’s it going to be like after I testify?” she asked. “Will I still have to worry about Keenan?”

“No,” Conor said softly. “You won’t have to worry about Keenan ever again.”

“But what if he gets out and he decides he wants revenge?”

Conor took her hand and brought it to his lips, then placed a warm kiss on the inside of her wrist. “Then I’ll protect you,” he said.

His words were so simple and heartfelt that Olivia could almost believe he’d be there. “Will we see each other after the trial?” she asked.

Conor shrugged. “You’ll be busy trying to get your business back on track. And you’ll have your friends. You won’t have any time to think about me.”

“That’s not true,” Olivia said.

“It is,” Conor replied. “Be honest, Olivia. If I’d walked up to you on the street and asked you out, you would have run in the opposite direction. You’re from a different world, privileged, sophisticated, cultured. I’m just a cop and not a very good one at that.”

“But that’s not who I am,” she said. “I didn’t grow up on Beacon Hill. I grew up living above a little store-front in North End. My parents were hippies. They bought and sold what they called antiques, but what I’d probably call junk. We were poor, living hand-to-mouth. This me that you think you know is a me that I constructed from scratch. I read magazines to learn how to dress and studied books to understand my clients. I even took speech lessons so I could talk like I had money. I’m a complete fraud.”

“But you belong in that world now,” he said. “You’ve made a place for yourself with your high-society friends and your expensive antiques.”

“But I like your world,” she countered. “It’s much more exciting. It makes me feel alive.”

Conor shook his head. “I’ll make you a deal. When this is over, we’ll go back to our lives, and if you still feel the same way in a month, then we’ll talk.”

An entire month without Conor was unthinkable. She could barely pass an hour alone without craving the sound of his voice or the warmth of his touch. But Conor had wounds that went deep, wounds that made him distrust women. If he needed them to have time apart to prove her feelings, then that’s what she’d give him. “Promise?” she asked. “Just a month?”

He nodded.

“I’ll never regret what we shared,” she said.

“Neither will I,” Conor replied, dropping a quick kiss on her lips. “Neither will I.”

THE LADIES had gathered around the table for morning coffee as was their habit but, today, they had invited themselves over to Olivia’s apartment for the morning ritual. Olivia hadn’t had the heart to refuse and, in all truth, she welcomed the company. She needed something-anything-to take her mind off Conor.

Since their field trip to the airport, things had changed, in some ways for the better, but in many ways for the worse. They’d become closer than ever emotionally, sharing stories from their pasts and spending the waking hours together in quiet conversation. They’d talked about his childhood, his parents, his early years in Ireland. She felt as if she’d been given a window into his soul and it was a rare gift. Conor wasn’t one to let anyone see the real man beneath the indifferent exterior. She’d been allowed in.

But since that night when they had returned from Waterfront Park, Conor hadn’t shared her bed. Like so many other topics of conversation, Olivia had been afraid to broach the subject with him. Besides, she suspected what he was doing. They only had a few more days together before the trial and he was preparing them both for the inevitable. Once the trial began, there’d be no more reason for them to be together. It was a sensible plan, Olivia thought, though it was hard to fall asleep without Conor exhausting her first with his lovemaking and then keeping her warm with his body. She’d been tempted to go to him, to ask him for one last night together. But she’d done that once and she couldn’t bear to do it again.

Olivia drew a deep breath. She should have been satisfied with the new direction their relationship had taken-one where emotional intimacy had replaced physical pleasure. But over the past few days, she’d come to love Conor more than ever. And she wanted to express it in both words and actions.

Instead, Olivia found herself working out her frustrations by cooking. She made elaborate meals for them both. Conor, on the other hand, chose to exercise away his carnal feelings. Every morning, he headed out, only to return an hour later completely exhausted. And after a long shower, he’d run errands to the grocery store and the coin laundry and the gas station. Then, right before lunch, they’d leave for another field trip, an activity that had become a daily routine over the past three days.

Yesterday, they’d walked the Freedom Trail, something neither one of them had ever done, even though they’d both grown up in Boston. They wound their way through Boston, stopping at the Bunker Hill Monument and Paul Revere’s house and the Old North Church. And the day before that, they’d visited the Museum of Science, then walked along the banks of the Charles until the sun had nearly set.

She’d managed to forget the upcoming trial, her worries fading into an occasional twinge of apprehension. Olivia wasn’t sure how her life would change once she testified against Keenan and Kevin Ford, only that she couldn’t imagine her future without Conor. She was madly in love with him and, for the first time in her life, she realized that there might be a man who could make her happy forever.

Olivia had tried to determine when her feelings had become so focused but, in truth, she couldn’t remember a moment when she wasn’t in love with Conor Quinn. They’d known each other just a week, yet she knew more about him than any other man she’d ever loved-or thought she’d loved.

She knew now that those other men had all been passing moments in her life, marking time until she was destined to meet Conor. Suddenly, her decision to testify made sense, as did all the other crazy things that had happened since she’d first called the police. This had all been part of a cosmic plan so that she could find the man she was supposed to love.

“My goodness, dear, you look like you’re a million miles away,” Sadie said.

Olivia blinked, then glanced around the table at the five elderly ladies who’d gathered for coffee and Danish. They were all staring at her. “I-I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

“Where is that gorgeous husband of yours?” Doris asked.

“He went out for a run. He likes to get some exercise in the morning. And sometimes in the evening, too. Can I get anyone else coffee?”

They all shook their heads and she noticed that all their cups were full and their Danish untouched. The five of them-Sadie, Doris, Ruth Ann, Geraldine and Louise-stared at her expectantly. “Go ahead,” Ruth Ann whispered, giving Sadie an elbow. “Ask her.”

“Ask me?” Olivia murmured, picking up her glass of orange juice. “Ask me what?”

Sadie smiled brightly. “So tell us, dear, how is the sex?”