Donna Hill - My Love At Last

Connor stepped back into the shadows of the room to better watch her movements. He leaned against the wall, studied the precision and economy of everything that she did and wondered what she would be like under his touch. Would she forego her efficiency and take her time, let him take his time? He didn’t want her perfect. He wanted her raw and real, no holds barred.

The sound of clicking and soft flashes of light snapped him to attention.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Olivia said, as she moved fluidly around the space, snapping photos. “Couldn’t resist.” She swung around in his direction and took three pictures in rapid succession. She lowered the camera and smiled at him. “Now you’re a part of history.”

Connor chuckled. He took a step toward her. The shout of his name, along with the sound of knocking, stopped him. His jaw reflexively tightened. He turned to the door and pulled it open.

The roofer stepped in out of the rain. “All done, Mr. Lawson.” He wiped the water from his face. “Sealed everything. It should hold you until we can get in and do the real work that’s needed.”

“Good.” Connor nodded his head. “Thanks for coming out on such short notice, Bobby.” He stuck out his hand, enclosing the smaller hand of the roofer in a firm grip.

“Anytime.”

“Let’s take a quick look at what got done before your crew heads out.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Lawson.” He stepped back outside.

Connor turned toward Olivia. “Ready?”

“Sure.” She put her camera back in her tote and hoisted it onto her right shoulder.

Connor took the umbrella from the corner and handed it to Olivia. He turned off the floodlight and everything was momentarily reduced to memory. Connor pushed open the door and she saw his silhouette return, flush against the dull gray afternoon.

Olivia opened the umbrella and gingerly inched around the hole in the step and down onto solid ground. Connor followed, then ducked beneath the umbrella, reflexively scooping his arm around her waist. It was intimate, cocooned together, shielded from the elements and separated from the world around them.

She forced herself to concentrate on not tumbling into some unseen ditch, rather than the heat and soap-and-water scent of Connor’s body, which was barely a breath away from hers.

“What’s on your agenda for the rest of the day?” Connor asked as he gently guided her down the short incline toward her parked car.

Olivia cleared her throat. “I have some research to do. I need to review all of my notes and start mapping out a workable schedule.”

“When will you be back?”

“I’m hoping as soon as tomorrow.” It was part question, part statement. She quickly glanced at his rugged profile, his jaw outlined in a well-trimmed five-o’clock shadow.

They stopped in front of her vehicle.

He faced her. “Hopefully we won’t get in each other’s way.” His gaze held her fixed to the spot.

Olivia held her breath, certain that he was going to kiss her. She wanted him to.

Thunder slowly rolled across the heavens.

Connor reached around her and opened the door. “Give me a call when you’re on your way.”

A wave of disappointment swam through her. She blinked it away and smiled. “Sure.” She slid in behind the wheel. Her eyes rolled up to him and suddenly everything disappeared as he leaned down and covered her mouth with his. Only for an instant, but long enough to reawaken the taste of him, heat her in the center of her belly. Then it was over, but her heart still raced.

“Drive safely.” He stroked her cheek with the barest tip of his finger. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

Olivia swallowed and ran her tongue along her bottom lip. All she could do was nod her head in agreement.

Connor shut her door and stepped back.

Olivia fumbled with the key, finally got it in the ignition and turned on the car. When she looked out her window, Connor was halfway across the grounds and soon disappeared behind one of the buildings.

Chapter 3

Connor returned to the makeshift office, took off his wet jacket and hung it on a hook behind the door. For a moment he shut his eyes and drew in a long, deep breath. He shouldn’t have let her go. He should have invited her to...something, whatever it took to keep her with him a bit longer.

He shook his head. Crazy. Losing his grip over some woman that he barely knew? What was that about? His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out. It was a call from Jake.

“Hey, Jake. What’s up?”

“Just checking. The roofers done?”

“Yeah, they left a little while ago. Everything looks good. We should be okay.”

“Great. Listen, me and some of the fellas are in town catching a few beers and the game.”

Connor didn’t make it a habit of hanging out with his crew. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy their company. It was more that he was mindful of crossing the line from employer to friend. But today he didn’t feel like being in his own company. To do that would keep him under the spell of whatever it was that Olivia Gray had cast over him. Maybe a roomful of male testosterone fueled by beer guzzling and cussing, and further incited by the sight of bodies crashing into each other on the field, was what he needed.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I will. Everyone at McCoy’s?”

“Back room.”

Connor chuckled. “A regular party. See you in a few.” He disconnected the call and was actually looking forward to some male bonding.

* * *

By the time Connor arrived at McCoy’s the weather had somewhat cleared. At least the rain had stopped, but it left behind a misty residue that hung waiflike above the town. Connor found a parking spot in the lot behind the bar, then joined the crew inside.

The back room of McCoy’s was about the size of a small classroom. A fifty-inch television was mounted on the paneled wall, wooden circular tables with spindle-backed chairs dotted the plank-wood floor and in the far corner was a jukebox with nothing more current than hits from the eighties.

McCoy’s prided itself on the bare essentials of its establishment. What it lacked in ambience it made up for with some of the best wings, ribs, steaks and burgers this side of the Mississippi, and drinks that could lay you on your ass, not like the watered-down stuff at some of the higher-end restaurants. McCoy’s was a sports pub through and through.

“Connor, over here.” Jake stood and waved him over to a back table.

Connor acknowledged the faces he knew with a lift of his chin as he passed by. The room was in full swing and the one waitress that was assigned to the space had her hands full keeping up with the orders. He made his way around the tables and pulled up a chair.

“First things first,” Connor said as he sat down. “What’s the score and how long will it take to get a drink?”

The table of five laughed heartily and brought Connor up to speed on the game. They were split down the middle between the Giants and the Redskins. There was money and booze on the table. It could go either way. Connor tossed his hat in with the Giants, ordered a bourbon neat and a burger with all the trimmings.

Jake scooted his chair a bit closer. “So how’d it go?” he asked, loud enough for Connor to hear but not their tablemates.

Connor glanced at him over the rim of his glass. “Told you. Fine. We’re good to go for tomorrow.”

“You know I wasn’t talking about the roofers.” His right brow arched.

Connor chuckled. “That went fine, too, or as fine as it could go under the circumstances.”

“To tell you the truth, I kinda thought the two of you would have been together right about now. Although I was hoping not, at least not until her agenda is clear,” he added, with a look that spoke to the last woman on the site. “Didn’t expect you to accept the invite.”