Chapter Twenty-Two
Fallon
I woke up without an alarm, already humming in anticipation of what Connor had planned for our last morning in Galway. But instead of waking up in his arms, I found his side of the bed empty.
I turned over, thinking maybe there was a sexy surprise waiting for me in the living room. But my face fell when the bathroom door opened and he emerged. He wore a fitted black T-shirt and dark jeans, his short hair gelled and sticking up in a messy yet sexy way, like he had it fixed one way then run his fingers through it a million times.
“You’re out of bed early,” I said. “I thought we could, um, snuggle. Or other things. Whatever.”
Dammit, when I needed words they wouldn’t come, and when I didn’t want them to, it was all word vomit.
He didn’t even glance in my direction as he secured his watch on his wrist. “As much as I’d like to take you up on that, we have to head back to Dublin. Fiona called, and the house is ready for a final walk-through.”
“I’m sure the house can wait,” I murmured, tugging on his belt loops. Begging wasn’t my strong suit, and my heart thudded in my chest. Was he going to reject me? Again?
He briefly leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Maybe once we do the walk-through, okay? We’re mostly packed, and I laid out some clothes for you in the bathroom.”
“You’re bossy,” I said, standing up and swatting his arm playfully.
“I made us a reservation for breakfast before we head out.”
“Yes, sir,” I muttered, heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind me so he couldn’t see the tears pricking my eyes.
What happened to the guy who had been all romance, flowers, and lots of sex? Now that our fairy-tale weekend was over, was that the end of our fairy tale?
…
I expected Connor to pick out something relaxing for the ride home, like my jeans. Instead, a tailored pink dress with cap sleeves and a pair of nude heels sat on the counter, along with an equally sexy pair of white lace panties and matching bra. Maybe he did have a plan for something on the road, after all. Perhaps this was just an excuse so he could get set up.
I wanted to joke about the expensive clothes again, but with Connor’s tense mood, I decided not to test it and got in the shower.
After washing my body and hair, shaving my legs and everywhere else, I got dressed and ready in record time.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I expected maybe to see flowers or a naked Connor. Anything, really, other than the bags by the door and him on the couch, tapping away on his phone. He’d had it put up all weekend, and now it was out again.
I sighed, my chest sinking. I guess it was back to reality. As long as it was work on his phone. I’d never been a jealous girl, but my thoughts prickled, thinking of the old Connor. The one who I’d had to call out of many girls’ beds. What if he had another girl in Galway? Or someone back home? Now that he’d made a conquest of his fake wife and we took “no sex” off the table, what was stopping him?
“Ready, Fallon?” he asked, standing up and sliding his phone into his pocket.
I nodded, keeping my head down. “Yeah.”
He didn’t even take my hand, but grabbed both of our suitcases. His hair was even messier, his gaze seemingly elsewhere.
“I’m going to put our bags in the boot, then I’ll meet you in the dining room, okay?” he said, already heading toward the door.
“Okay,” I muttered. “Guess I can just take care of myself, then. Always have.”
He didn’t even hear my last comment since he was already halfway out the door.
I went downstairs and sat in the dining room with the immaculate cloth-covered tables. A waitress served me tea and handed me a menu.
Once she left, I pulled my phone out of my purse to find a million messages from Leah.
Leah: How’s the romantic weekend? Flowers? Chocolate? Lots of sex?
Leah: Are you ignoring me so you can have sex right now? You’d better call me later and give me the details. At least one of us has a sex life.
I sighed, closing my eyes and slowly opening them. Worry and dread had been creeping into my stomach all morning. Seeing the words just made it fester. But maybe I was taking it all wrong, and maybe Leah would see that and tell me so.
Me: It was all sex and flowers. But this morning he’s acting like he just wants to get the hell out of here. Like the spell is broken, and I’ve turned back into a pumpkin.
Leah: Maybe he has work to get back to or something. It could be anything. Don’t read too much into it and just think about the multiple orgasms he probably gave you.
I put my phone back in my purse, wondering if Leah was right. He had been away from work for a while.
“Sorry, got a phone call while I was out there,” Connor said, taking his seat on the other side of the table.
“Understandable. You have a company to run,” I said, trying to smile and put on a good front.
He didn’t answer, scanning the menu until the waitress approached with tea. Her smile was way more prominent with Connor, and I noticed her blouse slightly unbuttoned. I clenched my fists at my side, willing myself not to get upset.
“We’ll take two Irish breakfasts, please. And we’re in a hurry to head home for business,” Connor said, handing the menu and a hefty bill to the girl and not even looking in her direction.
“Right away, sir.” She nodded with a frown before heading in the other direction.
I was going to ask Connor what the rush was, but he already had his phone out, tapping away. Was this work? Or something else?
I grabbed my own phone with a grimace and sent a text.
Me: Your phone must be really interesting this morning.
He smirked, apparently reading my message before typing a few more things, then he set his phone down, raking his hands through his hair.
“Sorry. I guess when you take a day off from a job like mine you get a lot of work waiting for you on Sunday.” His stare wasn’t lustful or glowing or anything like I’d gotten used to all weekend. This was just a blank stare that caused a sinking feeling deep in my gut.
The waitress approached with our plates of food, and Connor didn’t say another thing while we ate in silence.
Was this what my life would be like now? Him taking over the company and me having to deal with him on his phone all the time? Was it even work? Or was he back to the old Connor? Was the romance of this weekend just a fluke? Bile rose in my throat, and I could barely eat breakfast.
He wasn’t particularly chatty on the ride home, either. I spent most of the time staring out the window or messaging Leah. By the last hour of the trip, I was dead asleep.
This was so different than the drive down, where we took our time, went to the Cliffs, and had a nice lunch. At least I could better deal with leaving the marriage if he was going to be cold like this.
Connor shook my shoulder lightly, and I woke up, staring at the country house.
“You ready for this?” he asked.
“Yeah…I guess…” I muttered groggily.
“Are you okay?” he asked, unbuckling his seat belt and taking my hand, squeezing it.
“I would be if I knew why you went from sexy boyfriend to cold, work-obsessed guy. If it is even work and not something or someone else,” I snapped.
He flashed a tight-lipped smile. “Tell you what, let’s just get through this walk-through, then we can go back to the flat. I’ll put my phone up, we’ll get some wine, and I’ll spend the rest of the night making it up to you with my tongue.”
As good as that sounded, hesitation still prickled through me. He never confirmed whether it was work.
He looked out my window. “There’s Fiona now. Come on.”
“I can just stay in the car?” I waved, ready to just get back to the flat and have this day over with.
“Come on. You have to do this walk-through with me. It’s your house, too,” he said with a pleading note in his voice that I hadn’t heard before.
“It’s fine. You’ll be quick, and I can read more of these emails Jack forwarded me while I was gone,” I said, waving my phone between us.
He smirked and pulled the phone from my hand.
“Hey,” I yelled, trying to grab it, but he was outside and opening my door before I could utter another word of protest.
“Give that back.”
“I don’t think so,” he said before crouching down and picking me up, throwing me over his shoulder like Tarzan.
“What do you think you’re doing? Put me down!” I commanded, an embarrassed heat creeping through my neck, and Fiona beamed at us.
She pushed open the door, and Connor walked through it. He didn’t set me down until we crossed the threshold.
“I don’t want to argue with you right now, but what the hell do you think you’re…oh…” I stopped when he took my hand and whirled me around to face a trail of white rose petals and shamrocks. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the display.
“Um, did this come with the house? Is this something we should talk with the homeowners about?”
Connor’s broad grin sent a trail of heat through me.
“I think we should see where they lead,” he whispered, his lips vibrating on my ear.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, walking in a haze as he led me through the living room, library, and to the conservatory, lit up with dozens of twinkling lights. Hundreds of white roses and shamrocks lay throughout the space.
But that wasn’t as impressive as the band standing there. They played “Whiskey in the Jar” and I recognized them as the band from the pub the first night we started talking about this arrangement.
Two men all in black stood next to the band. One of them I recognized as Connor’s hulking, tattooed brother, Sean. The other a guy was around Connor’s age, and I hadn’t met him before.
Connor handed Sean my phone and whispered something in his ear before Sean nodded. Then Connor sauntered toward me, holding out his hand. “Dance with me, Fallon?”
I couldn’t even speak. I didn’t know if I was going to laugh, cry, or just smile. Instead of doing any of that, I just nodded as he took my hand and pulled me close. No fancy Irish dancing or waltzing, only the two of us pressed together.
Trepidation and nerves crept through my body, causing little goose bumps to rake my arms. I didn’t know where any of this was going, or what was going to happen. I tried to close my eyes and just pretend. Pretend that this was all real, and ignore my gut telling me that it wasn’t. When the song came to the end, he spun me around and then let go, crouching to the floor and onto one knee.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and I gasped, staring at his wide smile.
“You wanted flowers and romance. I’ve tried to give you that and more. Even though I can be a gobshite sometimes, a cold workaholic with a playboy past, as you say, I hope to change that. For you. For us.”
The other man approached us with a small black box, and Connor took it. He opened it to reveal a white gold Claddagh ring with a large, dazzling diamond heart in the middle.
Tears welled as he took the ring out of the box and grabbed my left hand in his. His beautiful blue eyes sparkled in the dim light of the room as our gazes met.
I had to tell myself this was all for show to make it believable, but that still wasn’t clamping down the very real flutters coursing through me.
“Fallon Smith,” he murmured, taking the ring and holding it up to the end of my pointer finger. “With this crown, I give my loyalty.”
He briefly looked down, moving the ring to the end of my middle finger. “With these hands, I offer my friendship.”
He moved the ring to my ring finger, sliding it down before his gaze flitted to mine. “With this heart, I give you mine. Will you marry me?”
I fluttered my eyelids, trying to suck in a deep breath in a mixture of happiness, sadness, and confusion at this beautiful moment. I couldn’t form words, so I nodded, looking down at Connor, who grinned widely.
“Yes?” he asked.
“What did she say? Is it a yes? Let me see!” a familiar female voice asked.Sean approached, holding out my phone, which had Leah and Nana on a video call.
The tears fully streamed from my face, seeing Nana on the screen, her own eyes watering as she and Leah clapped.
I didn’t know why Connor needed the audience for a fake engagement. I was too lost in the whirlwind, buzzing with a familiar electricity, to care.
When he pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply, all I could think about was how perfect this moment was. How the guy was fidgety and brooding because he had this all planned. That explained all of the phone calls to the real estate agent and being so anxious to get home. That wasn’t the regular Connor.
This was my Connor—the guy who would call my nana and best friend to see a proposal.
This may have all been fake to win his company, but my feelings were genuine. Connor had me wholly captured.
I wasn’t ready for any of it to end.