Chapter Eleven
Connor
Running the American offices while being at least five hours ahead of them wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. It required a lot of conference calls when I should have been clocking out for the night.
All I could think about was getting home to Fallon.
I’d never thought this much about a girl, but she kept me on my toes. When I wasn’t working, I’d think about the next time I’d see her and what new thing I could tease her about that she would throw right back at me. Being with her was effortless, but trying to mentally push her out of my mind was a more challenging task.
After being at the office well past when I wanted to be, I headed for the flat.
I still couldn’t believe she wanted me to stay with her. A silly grin stayed plastered on my face for all of the short walk to the building.
My pulse still quickened the closer I got to her. She was doing all of this to help the franchise and her Nana, and I was doing this for the business. But pushing her away at the end could be one of the hardest things I’d ever have to do. Even if I wasn’t a monogamous guy, being with Fallon didn’t give me the same constricted feeling I’d felt with every other girl. We just worked.
I found the door unlocked and walked right into the flat. The TV was on, but there was no sign of Fallon.
“You know, you should lock that door. Anyone could walk in,” I called.
“I know. Like that creeper Connor Murphy,” she said in a strained voice.
I stopped in the living room, where she laid on the floor on her back with her hands behind her head and her knees to her chest. Exactly the position I’d like to have her in if she wasn’t wearing the black yoga pants and pink tank top. This wasn’t helping the whole “push her away” scenario.
“Are you just going to watch me work out?” she asked in a huff. She stretched out so she was flat on her back then rolled to her stomach, spoiling the magnificent view of her breasts. But at least her arse was a close second.
“Would you rather I join you? Maybe teach you how to stretch properly? I thought you Americans knew this stuff from all of those workout videos.” I looked at the screen where a way-too-chipper-woman stood with a headband pulling back her dark hair.
Fallon frowned, sitting up and grabbing the remote, turning off the screen. “I thought I’d try and get in a workout. I’d rather watch reality shows, but you don’t have any decent ones in Dublin.”
I laughed, shaking my head before kicking off my shoes. “What? You want the Real Housewives of Dublin?”
“I’d even settle for the fake ones,” she mumbled, looking up with a raised brow as I slid off my socks then slowly peeled off my shirt.
Her neck bobbed, gulping, before she finally stuttered, “Are you seriously getting naked right now?”
I smirked and sat down next to her, noticing her eyes roam over the dips of my ab muscles. “I’m going to show you how to stretch, pinky. Unless you want to be sore tomorrow.”
I should have stopped there and not let it go any further. But my other head was thinking for me. It couldn’t hurt me, either, to ease my muscles after being cramped up in the office all day.
“I’m fine,” she quipped, her gaze darting away.
“Come on; I promise not to hurt you. Do you trust me?” I asked, holding my hand out.
I thought she’d tell me to fuck off, or not respond at all, but she turned and took my hand, and my stomach fluttering at the sensation. This woman did trust me, and if I wasn’t careful, I’d ruin her when this was all said and done.
“Okay, first, let’s get you on your back,” I said with a smirk. Her eyes widened when I put one hand on her waist then flipped her over. She let out a little gasp, and I leaned over her.
From this view, my dick was on high alert. Her blond hair splayed around her, and her chest practically popped out of her top.
Licking my lips, I tried to focus on the task at hand. I grabbed one of her legs, holding it against my shoulder before pushing gently against her calf.
She moaned. I bit down on my lip, trying not to think about how else I could make her have that reaction.
“Feel that stretch?” I murmured, gently pushing her leg.
“Yeah. Maybe you do know what you’re doing and aren’t just trying to get in my pants,” she muttered.
“I told you I know what I’m doing,” I whispered before leaning forward. I pressed my mouth to hers, nibbling on her bottom lip.
Her sweet sigh caught my breath. My heart beat rapidly against hers, and my whole body heated up. I was too far gone to stop.
I ran my tongue along the spot I nibbled then pressed my forehead to hers, staring into her endless blue eyes. She was beautiful. Those little moans made me want to rip off those tight pants and feel every inch of her.
“I…um…” she stuttered, her breathy words tickling my lips.
“You what, pinky?” I smiled and leaned in. She sealed her lips shut and shook her head.
I pulled back, staring at her now-closed eyes.
Fuck. Did I read her signals wrong? She seemed to be enjoying it, if those little noises said anything.
“I—I should shower. Yeah. Shower.”
I sat back. She jumped up and ran to the bathroom.
Instead of following like I wanted to, I stood, adjusting my straining dick. Then I walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Cooking seemed to relax me. And the way this girl was messing with my head, I needed something to try to take my mind off everything—the business, and the girl who was supposed to just be a means to get it back.
…
“That smells amazing.” Fallon’s voice carried into the kitchen. I glanced over my shoulder. She stood in a loose-fitting T-shirt and sweatpants. Her wet hair was in a bun, and she didn’t have a trace of makeup on.
Still sexy as fuck.
“Salmon and celery root colcannon,” I said, using the spatula to get the mashed bits of celery root and garlic into the bowl with the cabbage.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a man cook for me.”
I frowned, shaking my head. “I don’t know what kind of men you’ve been dating. A man who doesn’t know his way around the kitchen doesn’t understand what he’s doing in the bedroom, either.”
“If we’re going to continue this conversation, I hope you have some wine to go with this dinner,” she said, turning and opening the fridge door.
“I was just stating a fact,” I said, shaking my head before mixing the cabbage and celery root. “No wine, but there is beer.”
“Well, the truth is, I’m not usually much of a beer girl. Or a girl who stays home with someone cooking for her,” she said, grabbing two bottles of Guinness and setting one beside me.
“What would you be eating or doing if I wasn’t here? Or if you were back in America?” I asked, genuinely curious.
She shrugged, popping the lid off her bottle. “Probably reality TV and wine, maybe some leftover pizza if it was handy. You did peg me on that one, sadly.” She grimaced.
“I don’t know of any American pizzerias around here, but I do believe there is a winery down in Dalkey that’s supposed to have some good mead.”
“They have wineries around here but not pizzerias?” she asked, taking her plate and fork before we walked in step to the little table by the window.
“People like the local mead blends at the pubs around here. We can also charge a pretty penny in America for a glass of authentic Irish white, as we call it to the hipsters.”
“Are you calling me a hipster?” she asked, smiling before putting the fork to her food.
“I don’t fully understand the American term, but I don’t think you fall into that category.”
She nodded. “I don’t get the term, either. That’s something else we have in common. Now, let’s see if your cooking skills are better than mine. I’d be okay with us not sharing that trait.”
She brought the food to her lips and then let out a little moan that made my dick jump.
“Oh my God. This is really good. Did you seriously make this?” she asked, before taking another big bite.
“Yes. This was all me.”
“Did your grandmom or another woman teach you to cook?” she asked after swallowing a big piece of cabbage then picking at a bit of salmon with her fork.
“No. Learned on my own through trial and error while living by myself at university. My nanny would rather play cards or sleep with the butler than teach me anything,” I muttered, opening the top of my drink then taking a big gulp.
“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Her words trailed off.
“I don’t remember much about Mam. I was two, and Sean was only a few days old. I don’t know exactly what happened, besides some internal bleeding, since Da was vague on the details,” I said, taking a long pull of my beer. I’d never shared this information with another soul, not even my best mates in school. “But he did the best for us that he could. I just wish he would have told us all about this marriage contract.”
“That would have been helpful. But then again, if you hadn’t been surprised, we probably wouldn’t have started talking. I guess that’s a good thing.” She tripped over her words before taking a sip of her beer.
I smiled, trying to lighten the conversation. “I believe you’re starting to fancy me.”
“I’ll admit, you have your moments. If you keep cooking, I might keep you around for a bit. I can help out, too.”
“Really? Maybe one of these days you can learn to cook, too. I wouldn’t mind some American grub. Nothing like a good box of macaroni and cheese.” I raised my eyebrows.
“I never even learned to make that. Mom was more of a fast food or gas station hot dog kind of lady. The only thing I learned to do with a spoon was lick it and stick it to my nose. That can keep a girl busy for hours when you have nothing else to do and your parents didn’t pay the cable bill so you’re stuck inside during a Chicago winter,” she rambled before stuffing her mouth full of food like she was trying to shut herself up.
I couldn’t imagine what her life was like, or how she turned into such a selfless woman. Her nana was one hell of a lady to help raise her. I never thought about the financial or home life of the girls I shagged. The deeper I got to know Fallon, the more challenging it became to think about the end of all of this.
She was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. She deserved a guy who could treat her just as well. I didn’t want to be like Da or even Jack. They were always focused on the company instead of their love lives. Murphy men were cut out for running companies, not marriage. Which was why the understanding Fallon and I had would work out grand, and neither of us would get hurt in the end.
I had to keep reminding myself of that.
“I think we could go all night swapping shitty parent stories, but let’s talk about something less depressing. How was your day? And not the part where you worked or took phone calls for my brother,” I said, forcing a smile to change the subject.
She blinked quickly, twirling her fork on her plate, then cleared her throat before responding. “I did get to use my new phone. Leah was excited to get to message me again. Then we had a video call, and she admired the decorating. You didn’t have to do all of this. We’ll both be moving out of this apartment soon, and it’s all just…well…it’s probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
I smirked, sticking my fork in my food, trying to be nonchalant. “Technically, a designer did that. I just told them what I wanted.”
“You paid for it. You made this place a little homier. Which is a good thing, since we’re roommates now.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you want to call this?”
“I’m sure you have a more creative name you’re going to share,” she quipped before taking another bite of her food.
There were a lot of dirty things I wanted to say, but instead, I shook my head.
“We can start with roommates before fiancée and then wife.”
I leaned in, putting my hand on her knee. I told myself it was just friendly, even though her leg gently shifted under my touch, and my skin warmed against her.
I thought she’d say something smart or swat me away. But she let me keep my hand there as we ate the rest of our dinner together in a comfortable silence.
…
After doing dishes, we sat together on the sofa. Some American comedy played on the television. I draped my arm over the back of the couch, and Fallon leaned her body toward mine; our feet stretched out together on the chaise.
It was as if we’d done this a million times. Like we were an ordinary couple, enjoying a night in.
Every time she moved closer, I wanted to rip those damn pants off and finish what we started on the floor earlier. I longed to track every curve of her body, to hear her make those little moans.
But I’d already pushed her once. If we were just going to be pals, then so be it. I could have picked a much worse woman to hang out with than her.
I zoned out at some point, with the program and the bad American acting. Then I caught myself before I drifted off to sleep. I leaned forward and noticed Fallon’s head curled to the side with her eyes closed.
I didn’t know how long she had been asleep, but I wasn’t going to make her stay on the couch all night.
I turned off the television then slowly stood up. Then, I crouched down and cradled her in my arms, lifting her in a fireman’s carry.
She yawned but didn’t stir until I laid her on the bed.
“What are you doing?” She moaned, stretching before I pulled the comforter to her chest.
“Tucking you into bed. Like a good roommate,” I whispered, pushing a fallen strand of hair behind her ear.
She gently grabbed my hand, opening her beautiful blue eyes. “I was going to sleep on the couch and let you have the bed.”
I smiled, brushing my thumb along the soft skin of her cheek. “Pinky, I’m not going to make you do that.”
“Then I’ll move over. You stay here. You shouldn’t have to take the couch because of me,” she murmured, scooting toward the wall.
“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do,” I whispered.
“I want you here with me. Not anything more than sleep, though.”
I nodded, not needing to be asked twice, before shucking my pants off.
Sliding under the covers, she leaned closer, pressing her forehead to mine. Just from her little touch, my body warmed.
“Thanks for telling me more about you today. I know that wasn’t easy,” she whispered into my mouth before gently pressing her lips to mine.
I took her sweet, close-mouthed kiss then put my arm around her, still tasting her on my lips, my heart beating wildly against her skin.
Yep. Blue balls again. But this was the best place I’d ever laid my head.