Sallinger, Elene - Reflection (The Chrysalis Series)

The breath in her chest dissolved at the realisation that she did love him. Not just that, she wanted to be with him. For good. The words leaped to her lips, only to die as she thought of Dean Whittier. She hadn’t told Connor and, frankly, didn’t plan to. His very willingness to jump to her rescue was exactly why she needed to finish this with the dean. No, only when the road was clear in front of them would she tell him. Until then, she’d have to show him.

She pulled the Mustang into the alley behind Claire and Evan’s brownstone. Turning off the engine, she faced Connor and took his face in her hands.

‘You have nothing to worry about, sugar. I have the best friends in the world and I have the best man in the world. The two can’t help but come together like peanut butter and jelly.’

He laughed at her deliberate corniness and she felt warm inside again at seeing him smile for real.

Leaning over the centre console, she kissed him gently, brushing her lips across his. She wanted to take him into her arms and make all of his pain from being rejected and judged go away. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she deepened the kiss, pouring all of her love and desire into this communion of lips and tongue.

When they finally parted both were breathless.

Connor smiled that crooked smile she loved and murmured, ‘Keep that up and I’ll be turning this car around, Ms Ross.’

She grinned. ‘Mmm, I like that idea. Except I don’t think Evan will stand for it.’ She nodded over his shoulder to where Evan was standing, arms crossed across his chest and one imperious eyebrow raised.

With a laugh, she wiped the lipstick from Connor’s mouth and got out of the car.

‘Why are you looking like a fearsome grizzly, Evan?’ She reached into the backseat for the wine she and Connor had brought as their contribution to dinner.

‘He hasn’t passed the test yet and he’s out here with his tongue down your throat. I’m supposed to be intimidating and scary, Bridget. Don’t you know anything?’ His voice was deliberately whiny.

Connor laughed and held out a hand, which Evan shook firmly. ‘It’s good to know she’s got other people looking out for her. She’s a handful.’

‘You figured that out, did you?’

‘Figured it out? She more or less hit me over the head with it the moment we met.’

‘Really?’ Evan grinned at Bridget. ‘I don’t think I’ve heard that story yet.’

‘Hey now,’ she called at them as they left her to follow, but she wasn’t truly upset. That her two favourite men had so obviously hit it off made her happy. This was going to be a good night.

‘Bridget says you’re an artist, Connor.’

Connor flinched. He never liked discussing his art. It was just too personal. He almost never showed it to anyone. Of all the women he’d dated, Bridget was only the second to ever see his work. It was too much like putting his soul on display and it made him feel too exposed.

‘I dabble, but I’m not a professional artist,’ he said, deflecting Claire’s question.

The night had gone better than he’d expected. Bridget’s friends were a welcoming group. Mona, he’d gotten to know pretty well from her café, but Claire and Evan made an intriguing couple. He got the impression there was more going on to that pairing than met the eye.

It was in the little touches and phrases between the two of them. She’d jokingly called him “sir” at one point and Evan’s reaction had been anything but joking. He’d looked like he wanted to throw his wife on the table and have his way with her, audience be damned.

Yeah, he had a feeling those two were definitely kinky.

Which only furthered his frustration where Bridget was concerned. Her best friend was obviously kinky so she’d had exposure to the idea of it not being wrong. He took a deep breath to dispel the frustration that flared at the memory of how Bridget had soundly shut him down the night before.

She’d pulled out all the stops to show him exactly how good sex could be without any true kink. And, had it actually been sincere and not an obvious manipulation, he would have been over the moon. But it hadn’t been sincere. She’d been detached and calculating throughout the entire experience.

It would have hurt less for her to just stick him with a knife straight through the chest.

‘Connor?’

‘Hmmm?’ He pulled his thoughts back to the present and focused on Mona.

‘Did you hear what I said?’

‘No, sorry. My mind wandered.’ He smiled.

‘I asked if you’d ever thought about showing your work?’

‘Oh.’ He shook his head. ‘No. It’s not something I’m really interested in.’

She smiled and nodded. ‘OK, but if you change your mind, I’d love to see some of your work. I feature a lot of local artists at the café.’

‘Yeah, I’ve noticed. That mixed media artist you’re showing now is really talented.’

‘Thank you.’ Irving, Mona’s date grinned.

‘Is it yours?’ Connor hadn’t taken note of the artist’s name.

He nodded. Connor had to admit, the last thing he would have expected this man to be was an artist. He was built like a linebacker, all broad shoulders and muscle. Connor had figured him for an athlete, not an artist.

‘Didn’t expect that, did you?’ Irving laughed a deep, gruff rumble. ‘Most people don’t. I get a lot of that look.’ He gestured at Connor’s face.

‘My apologies, man.’ Connor laughed with him. ‘You look like you should be scoring touchdowns.’

‘Well, that part helps with the ladies.’ He put his big paw of a hand on Mona’s shoulder and squeezed. Mona flushed a pretty shade of pink.

‘Don’t go getting full of yourself.’ She poked him in the ribs, causing him to flinch.

‘But it’s so fun,’ he good-naturedly returned the ribbing.

Thankfully, the conversation turned to Irving’s work and Connor’s was forgotten, which was just fine with him.

‘Why are you talking with me about this?’ Connor gritted his teeth and bit back the curses that wanted to spill from his mouth. They wouldn’t be productive.

‘Sugar, I told you I was going to talk with Mona,’ Bridget said as she reached across the breakfast table and squeezed his hand. Where normally that smoky Southern drawl would have melted his tension, her tone was an obvious attempt at placation and it only served to aggravate him more.

‘Yes, I remember.’ He pulled his hand away. She’d brought the subject up after they’d left Claire and Evan’s house the previous weekend. Picking up his coffee, he took a long gulp and winced as he burned the roof of his mouth. Setting the cup down, he gritted out, ‘I also remember telling you not to do it.’

‘You’re being silly about this.’ Bridget sipped her own coffee and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. ‘You have an amazing talent and you should be doing something with it.’

‘Says who?’ He was being belligerent and childish, but in that moment he didn’t care.

She just stared at him with a scowl. He wasn’t usually so argumentative. Hell, he prided himself on being an easy-going guy, but she had crossed a line. Worse, she didn’t even realise it.

‘Look, there is a very good reason why I don’t share my work. I thought you understood that.’

He stood and gathered his breakfast dishes up, placing them in the sink. He’d deal with them later. Right now, he had to get moving or he’d be late for work.

‘What reason is that, Connor?’ She wasn’t letting up. ‘You’ve certainly never told me.’

Gripping the edge of the sink, he did his best to rein in his temper. Why was she being so fucking pushy? This wasn’t like her.