Between Love and Loyalty Read online

  He led the way into the basement. The space was a completely unfinished—all concrete floor and walls. It smelled of Connor. The sawdust and hard work scent of his skin. On one side of the basement sat a massive table. The wood was bare and four chairs surrounded it.

  Connor ignored her and began moving wood and tools on a workbench. She went to the table and ran her hand along the smooth edge. The design was simple, but beautiful.

  A noise behind her startled her and she turned to watch Connor slide a piece of wood into a machine. He turned it on. She recognized it as a lathe and he was making a chair leg. She stared at the muscles on his back as they bunched. Then she shifted to the side to better watch him work.

  The roped muscles on his forearms bulged and making it one of the sexiest things she’d ever laid eyes on. Sawdust littered the area and stuck to the hairs on his arm. She closed her eyes as warmth flooded her body at the memory of those forearms braced at the side of her head while he drove into her.

  This man might’ve ruined her for others for a long time. After sleeping with him only twice, she was fantasizing about getting him naked again, and she wasn’t sure if he even liked her right now.

  The whine of the machine and the grinding of wood created a rhythm that lulled her into peace. She sat on one of the chairs, relaxed, and watched Connor move. He wasn’t relaxed. His muscles were hard, but not tense. She couldn’t see his face, but she imagined the focused and determined look. He was the kind of guy who didn’t like to make mistakes.

  After a few minutes, the noise stopped and his stance shifted. The jeans made his ass look really good. He bent over and blew dust out of the way. She could almost feel his breath against her skin when he’d kissed and sucked at her collarbone.

  Holy shit. She was getting turned on watching a man work on wood. She snorted back a laugh. She must be tired if she found the ridiculous pun funny.

  He turned and stared at her. “Problem?”

  “Not at all.” Her gaze darted away. She didn’t want him to know she’d gotten hot and bothered watching. She shook her head and stood. Her mouth was incredibly dry, so she swallowed hard. Her words came out quiet and breathy. “You look busy. I’m going to go now.”

  One of his eyebrows cocked up and his mouth twitched. Damn it. He saw right through her.

  She jogged up the stairs as quickly as her heels would allow and said a quick good-bye to Max, who greeted her at the basement door. From behind her, she heard a quiet laugh.

  This is exactly what Sarah had warned her about. She never should’ve shown up here. He was supposed to be a one-time thing. She’d already turned it into three times and her mind raced down the path to find time number four, where they would definitely be naked again. She walked to her car and hoped the cold night air would cool off her body.

  * * *

  Two days and two fucked up and incomplete chairs later, Connor still had Fiona on the brain. He’d had no luck digging up dirt on Fiona and proof of nothing new on her father.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about getting her naked again, which was exactly what she wanted.

  Maybe he’d find nothing on her because she truly didn’t know anything about her father’s dealings. He stared into his fourth beer for the night.

  Was he thinking clearly, or was it the alcohol talking?

  He thought of Fiona bucking naked under him, screaming his name and decided his dick was doing all the thinking.

  Maybe one more beer and she would leave his brain. Or his dick would give up. Either would work. He could pick up another woman if he wanted to get laid. He glanced around the bar. Not a redhead in sight.

  He pushed off the barstool and headed for the door. He stumbled back to his house and took Max for a walk.

  The dog yanked and pulled at the leash. “Slow down, boy. No running tonight.”

  As if he understood, Max slowed to a trot, keeping the leash taut. The cold air helped clear Connor’s head. He was buzzed, not drunk, but not okay enough to drive. On his way back home, he pulled out his phone and dialed Fiona’s number.

  If she answered, he’d invite her over. If he got her voicemail, he’d drop it.

  One ring, two, three, he pulled the phone away to disconnect when he heard a quiet, “Hello?”

  “Hey, sweetheart. It’s your favorite booty call. Want to come over?”

  “Connor?”

  “How many other guys do you call for late-night sex?”

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Close, but not quite.” He walked up the front steps and let Max free of the leash.

  “Why are you calling me? I thought you were pissed off.”

  “I was. Maybe am still a little. But I’ve been thinking about you. We had fun. And I’m horny.” He looked at what should be his living room. What he wouldn’t give for a couch to fall on right now. He went to the kitchen to make sure Max had food and water.

  “My situation hasn’t changed.”

  “Neither has mine.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He laughed. “Hell if I know. Fiona, you’re the kind of woman who can appreciate a straight answer, so I’ll give it to you. I miss your body and I’d really like to fuck you right now.”

  His proposition was met with silence. Maybe he’d offended her. Then he thought about how she’d come onto him.

  “No more questions about my family?”

  “I don’t care who your family is or why you want to keep them a secret.” In that brief moment, he almost believed himself.

  “And no commentary about it,” she snapped out.

  “I can have sex with you without judgment.” He hoped. “You’ll have to come here because I can’t drive.”

  Silence.

  He continued, “You know you want to.” He lowered his voice. “I saw how turned on you were in my workshop. If you want, we can have sex on the table in the basement. I can’t think straight because I keep imagining you naked on my workbench.”

  Her breathing was uneven, so he knew his words were working. On him too, and he shifted his cock in his jeans.

  “I’ll tell you what, Fiona. I’m going to take a shower and have a cup of coffee to sober up a little. I’ll leave the door unlocked. If you’re not here by the time I finish, I’ll go off to bed by myself.” Then he disconnected. If she were half as hot and bothered as he was, she’d be speeding all the way to his house.

  He took his shower and tried not to think of Fiona’s slick body in front of him or the way her wet curls snaked around his hands. He dried off and opted for a bottle of water instead of coffee. If she didn’t show, he didn’t need another sleepless night.

  Two gulps of water down his throat and he heard a quiet knock on the front door. Max scurried through the house. For such a big dog, he liked to act like a puppy. “Hello,” Fiona called out.

  Connor didn’t reply but walked from the kitchen toward the door. Her cheeks were pink probably from the cold air, but he liked to think their conversation had something to do with it. Her pale skin flushed when she was turned on.

  She had her hair twisted up into some kind of crazy ponytail and she wore ratty sweat pants.

  “Hey.”

  She closed the door behind her and brushed her hand across Max’s head as she walked by. “Thanks for inviting me. If it’s any consolation, I’ve been thinking about you too.”

  She hung her jacket on the post by the stairs and kept walking toward him. Her thin T-shirt revealed she didn’t have a bra on. Her nipples poked through and before she could touch him, he lowered his mouth and sucked a stiff peak through the shirt.

  She inhaled sharply and the air trembled on her exhale. She rubbed her hands over his head and through his hair as he moved from one breast to the other. Her hips gave a little thrust, but she was too far away to collide with him.

  Connor slid his hands beneath her shirt. He loved the softness of her skin. He lifted the shirt to have full access to her bared breasts. He kissed his way down her torso and
knelt in front of her. He peeled her pants down, following with his mouth. Her legs quivered as his lips grazed her mound.

  Her nails dug into his shoulders. He worked his way back up her body and kissed her. He broke away and they stood staring at each other, panting.

  He really wished he had a couch right now.

  She stepped out of her pants. “Upstairs?”

  “Yeah.”

  She turned and took the stairs two at a time. He didn’t try to keep up, but he loved the view.

  An hour later, Connor lie awake in bed, trying to figure out the words to say to convince Fiona to stay, at least for a while. He enjoyed the feel of her warm body curled next to him. No. This wasn’t supposed to be about enjoying her, which he was. He needed to get information on her father. He stroked his fingers down her back and she sighed. Her light breath skimmed across his chest. They were both relaxed and comfortable.

  As if on cue, she sat up and pushed her hair away from her face. He loved to watch her body in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Shadows played across her pale skin, making him want to explore all over.

  She turned and leaned her body across his chest. She gave him a hungry kiss and said, “I’m starving. Do you have anything to eat, or are you one of those guys who only has beer and condiments in his fridge?”

  He rose up and kissed her neck. He knew exactly what he’d like to eat. “Depends on what you’re looking for.”

  She shivered and pulled away. “I’ve already had a helping of that. And although I completely enjoyed it, I’d love some breakfast.” She crawled backwards off the bed. “And then we can have seconds up here.”

  She pulled his T-shirt over her head. “Maybe even thirds. It’s not good to go to sleep on a full stomach.”

  He liked it when she toyed with him, and he enjoyed the idea of her staying even more. “I can make breakfast.”

  He climbed out of bed and put on underwear. Food sounded good. Connor knew just what he’d cook for Fiona. He lucked out when she’d asked for breakfast. No woman could resist his chocolate chip pancakes.

  In the kitchen, Fiona sat on a chair and propped a foot next to her ass, the T-shirt barely covering anything. He groaned as he pulled ingredients from the cabinet. “If you actually want to eat food, I suggest you put your foot down, or I’ll take you right here on the table.”

  “Sorry,” she said without a bit of remorse. She stood and walked around the small kitchen.

  When he turned to get a bowl and measuring cups he almost ran into her—twice. He set the items on the counter and spun back to her. “Here,” he said, grabbing her waist. He set her on the counter beside the ingredients. “You can watch and tell me about yourself while I cook.”

  She swung her legs out behind him and he was keenly aware of the nakedness they led to, but he focused on mixing pancake batter.

  “What do you want to know?”

  This was what he’d been looking for. Time with Fiona to sneak under her defenses. “Whatever you want to tell me. I don’t want to ask about something off-limits, so you choose. Although it might be nice to at least know your last name. We’ve been naked together a few times, but I only know you as Fiona.” He whisked eggs and milk together and waited for a response.

  “I wish I could just be Fiona everywhere I went,” she mumbled, then quickly covered as if he shouldn’t have heard the admission. “Wells. Fiona Wells.”

  He tried not to let the lie get under his skin as he mixed the remaining ingredients and turned the flame on under the griddle. He should’ve expected the lie. “Tell me, Wells, Fiona Wells, do you like chocolate?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  He smiled and leaned over to kiss her. “You’re supposed to be telling about yourself.”

  “My life’s not exciting. I’ve lived in Chicago my whole life except for a year in high school when I studied abroad in Paris. Went to college and majored in art, much to my mother’s dismay. Art is such a useless degree. It wasn’t until her friends started buying my jewelry that she accepted I was never going to be a lawyer or an accountant. I make my jewelry when I’m inspired, usually late at night, and a few days a week I teach at the youth outreach. That’s the extent of my life. See, not exciting.”

  He scooped the first pancakes onto the griddle and looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Paris sounds pretty exciting.” That had been the year he and Aiden had gotten into so much trouble. It also explained why she didn’t know who Connor was.

  “It was. I had a great time, but I was too young to appreciate it. I want to go back someday.”

  He flipped the pancakes and grabbed a couple of plates from the cabinet above Fiona’s head. The action caused him to lean over her and she took the opportunity to kiss his chest. He caged his arms around her on the counter. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you better watch yourself if you want food.”

  She smiled and pointed. “My pancakes are burning. You don’t want to have to start over.”

  He pulled the first pancakes off the pan and poured more. “What do you do for fun?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t go out much. I’m kind of a homebody. I like to watch cheesy horror movies. I’ve never had many hobbies because I have my art. I love it and I’m lucky enough to get paid to do it.”

  Connor plopped pancakes onto the other plate. She had no political aspirations. Homebody was an understatement. Where most of the Cavanaghs clamored for the spotlight, Fiona clung to the shadows.

  “How about you?” she asked as she hopped off the counter.

  “My time is filled with work for money and work on this house. Any down time I have, I read. I already told you that. And I go to Dermott’s to watch the games.”

  She settled in at the table and he put a plate in front of her. “How did you get into watching European soccer?”

  “My dad. He was an Irish immigrant and he brought his love of the game with him to Chicago. He used to take me to the bar to watch the games with him.”

  “Are you close?”

  He felt her gaze on his back as he reached into the refrigerator for the syrup. He hadn’t wanted to get into a personal and heavy conversation. At least not on his end. But maybe it would get her to open up. “We used to be. He died when I was fourteen.”

  “Wow. That must’ve been hard.”

  He nodded and hoped the conversation would end.

  “What about your mom? Any siblings?”

  He shook his head. “My mom went back to Ireland with my brother a few years after my dad died.”

  Fiona’s eyes widened. “She left you here? You were just a kid.”

  He couldn’t tell Fiona he’d given his mother his money and urged her to go. He couldn’t go with because he’d been in jail. “I did okay. This life was all I’d known.”

  He handed her a fork. “Dig in before they get cold.”

  She slopped syrup all over and cut into the pancakes. He waited while she tasted and gave him what he wanted. She closed her eyes and moaned in appreciation.

  “You know, if the whole carpenter thing doesn’t work out, you can always be a short order cook. You definitely have the guys at IHOP and Denny’s beat.”

  He dove into his own plate. “Fuel up. I’m hungry for more than pancakes.”

  * * *

  Fiona scarfed down the pancakes. Although she’d needed escape from the politics and her mother the other night, things had gotten worse over the last two days. Some political blogger had posted the photo of her and Patrick and included a scathing commentary, which called into question her loyalty.

  The picture did look like an intimate moment and it had taken place right outside her father’s event. Her mother was livid.

  Losing herself in mindless sex was exactly what she’d needed. And now she was enjoying delicious pancakes.

  Determined to keep politics from her mind for a while longer, Fiona finished her pancakes and added one more. After eating it, she eyed another but decided against it. She pushed her empty pl
ate away. “Thank you. Those were delicious.”

  “Sure you don’t want anything else?”

  “I’m stuffed.” She stood and took her plate to the sink. He didn’t have a dishwasher that she could see, so she started the water to wash the dishes.

  He came up behind her with his plate and set it in the water. “You don’t need to do the dishes.”

  “They aren’t going to do themselves, and you cooked.”

  “Maybe we should wash together.” He moved her hair to the side and his arms circled her waist. He kissed her neck and nibbled her earlobe.

  Jolts of pleasure zinged through her. She tilted her head to give him better access as she picked up a sponge and began wiping a plate. He made it so easy to forget her family.

  Connor’s hands moved to her hips, pulling the T-shirt up. She began to breathe heavily and scrubbed a harder and faster on the dish in her hand.

  “Like that?”

  She knew her voice would be rough, so she nodded. His fingers skimmed across her inner thigh and she spread her legs for him. When he stroked her, her knees weakened. The plate slipped from her grasp and clanged into the sink.

  Fiona turned in his arms and grabbed his head, leaving a soapy trail in his hair. She dragged his mouth to hers.

  Then she let him take her against the kitchen counter until they were both blind and exhausted.

  When he lowered her legs back to the floor, he steadied her hips and waited. It was late and she should go. He probably needed to work in the morning. And she had enough going on to fuel her for at least a few hours of work. She finally finished the dishes with Connor’s gaze burning into her. You’d think the man hadn’t gotten laid in years the way he looked at her like he still hadn’t had enough.

  But she knew better than to believe he didn’t have women after him. He had his own house, a job, and he could cook. Maybe just pancakes, but it was real food. And he was freaking hot. He might not be the happiest or funniest guy in the room, but his sex appeal made up for his reticence.

  She dried her hands on a towel and turned to face him, hoping her face wouldn’t betray her lust for him. “Thanks for breakfast in the middle of the night and the multiple orgasms. Definitely made my evening better.”