Chapter Six
Fallon
Connor was cocky, arrogant, and yet passionate about his company. The way Jack spoke of his brother, always painted a picture of a chauvinistic fraternity boy. It was what I thought about the guy I was always calling into meetings.
While he did have his moments, there was also something endearing about him. I’d never had anyone bring me breakfast out of the blue, and I enjoyed our tit for tat until Nana and Leah called.
Guilt wrenched my stomach thinking soon I would be lying to my best friend and the closest family member to me.
At the pub, Connor called it all a “little white lie,” and those didn’t hurt people if it all ended up for the better. And this was a good deal for both of us. A quick marriage, and then Nana and I would be set for life. So what if I found myself getting a little giddy thinking about the dates he promised to take me on?
After making copies of the quarterly reports, I headed back toward the offices. My breath caught in my throat when I saw Conner sitting on the edge of my desk holding a sticky note that said Dinner and house hunting.
Trying to push back a smile, I rolled my eyes, adding a little extra snark. The man knew he was charming, and if I wasn’t careful, I’d be like every other girl who fell under his spell only to get her heart broken. “You cannot be serious.”
He laughed. “Very serious, mo grá. It’s clocking out time, and I booked the real estate agent. Let’s stop at your place then head out for a bite.”
“Why do you want to go back to my flat? Do you want to talk to Leah or my nana again? They’re both single if you’re into punk girls or older women,” I said, casually standing up and putting my purse over my shoulder.
He grabbed my elbow and leaned in, his voice low. “If I wanted someone else, you’d know it. Besides, I prefer blondes, no offense to your little pixie-headed friend or Nana.”
“We didn’t need to get them involved in this,” I whispered, wincing and wishing I could have taken back the words.
“You were the one who mentioned me to your friend and told me to chat with them. As I see it, having them involved only makes this look real to everyone around us.”
I glanced around the room, where a few people in cubicles were staring in our direction but darted their eyes elsewhere when I caught them.
“I need to get home,” I muttered and pulled away from his grasp before turning toward the stairwell, trying to walk as best I could. I should have worn tennis shoes, but my heels made my ass look good in my shift dress, and dammit, I’ll admit that I liked Connor’s little compliments.
Before I got even ten steps away from my desk, Connor’s long strides had him right next to me, his arm slinking around my waist. “You’re a pain, but you also have a great backside, so I don’t mind you walking away from me as long as I can enjoy the view.”
My cheeks warmed, and I turned away so he wouldn’t see my red face and give me any more grief.
“Everyone’s been watching us,” I whispered as we stopped at the top of the stairs.
“Do you want me to tell them not to? I may not be at my brother’s desk, but soon I will be CFO, even if right now I am just running the American territories from here. That should mean something to them,” he said.
“What’s that going to do? Making a scene and yelling at a bunch of people in cubicles isn’t going to help anything,” I said pointedly.
He nodded. “You’re right. This is still a business relationship. Though, if we are going to convince people we’re dating, there needs to be at least a little bit of PDA, whether it’s telling your friends I was there this morning or holding hands at work.”
“I guess a little hand-holding couldn’t hurt, if it gets you to stop talking,” I muttered before taking his outstretched hand.
An electric chill coursed through me as I gripped his hand. I didn’t know if he felt it or not, but if I was going to get this excited from a bit of hand-holding, then I was in for a lot of trouble with this fake relationship.
…
The entire way to my place, Connor grinned like a schoolboy who just put thumbtacks on the teacher’s desk.
I figured he was proud of himself for getting me to agree to hold his hand, and for causing whispers from some of the women in accounting.
When we reached my apartment, and got to the top of the stairs, there were strange men opening my door at the end of the hallway. Did I have a leak or something? Shit. I hoped my computer was okay. That was the only thing I owned that was worth anything.
“Mr. Murphy?” one of the men asked with a thick accent.
“Yes, sir,” Connor said, stepping forward.
“Sign here, please.”
Connor took a clipboard from the man, signing it before handing it back to him. “Everything set up as I asked?”
The man nodded. “Yeah.”
“What the hell did you do?” I questioned, staring from the men in overalls to Connor before pushing past them and opening the door to my apartment.
I gasped. What was once an empty shell of floor-to-ceiling white was now transformed into a cozy escape.
The former blank walls were covered in black and white photographs of different places around Ireland. I took small steps through the little kitchen until my heels hit the soft chevron rug that lay in front of a plush loveseat with chaise lounge attached. The sad, lonely window covered by a towel was now a cheery window with a small wooden counter with two yellow metal stools in front of it. Two cups and a canister of tea sat atop the table as if just waiting for me and Connor to sit there for a morning or afternoon cup.
There was a hutch with a flat screen TV mounted above it and little trinkets on the ornate piece. Past that was a curtained off area. The gray and white curtains pulled back on one side to reveal a brand new full-size bed with a warm yellow comforter and a secretary desk holding my laptop and complete with an executive chair in front of it.
“I thought you might want some privacy for your video messages. I wanted you to be comfortable while you’re here. At least, until we can close on a new place,” Connor’s words were soft as he leaned in closer.
He was about six inches taller than me, but his stature made him seem like he was much bigger. It had been a long time since I’d felt safe with anyone. But I did with him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and take in his scent, though I wasn’t even sure if the cedar and leather smell was cologne or just him.
If I could bottle up the smell and sell it, I’d be a millionaire. Which I would also be if I agreed to marry him. Something I was finding myself having trouble saying no to.
“Why…why did you do all of this?” I whispered, turning toward him.
He smiled. No hesitation. No question. Just complete confidence. “Because no girl of mine should live without a proper bed or table. You deserve all of this and more.”
“But why? It’s too much. I was fine with just the bed.” I had to choke back tears threatening to escape. It didn’t make sense why he cared so much when this was just a fake marriage.
No one had ever done anything this nice for me. Ray and I barely exchanged gifts for holidays. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last Christmas or birthday gift he gave me. Not that things like that mattered, but it would have been nice to be acknowledged once in a while.
Connor took a step forward, the toes of his leather shoes against mine. Lifting his hand, he pressed his palm to my cheek and swiped his thumb under my eye. “Because you deserve it. You came to Ireland for something. You can say it was for a job or money or whatever, but you shouldn’t have to sit in a sad, unfurnished apartment all night. No one should. Especially not someone as sweet and beautiful as you. Your American boyfriend was crazy for letting you go.”
His words were a whisper on my lips. If either of us leaned forward, our mouths would meet. Just one little movement and we’d break that wall I wanted to shatter.
The words and music to “Whiskey in the Jar” blared seemingly from out of nowhere, causing me to gasp and step back, knocking me out of my moment with Connor.
He pulled out his phone and tapped at the screen. “Sorry about that. Real Estate agent calling,” he muttered, putting the phone to his ear.
They exchanged a few words, then he said goodbye.
“She’s waiting for us outside.”
“Thank you, again, for this,” I said. “I feel like it’s all too much, but I’m grateful.”
“As I said, you deserve a decent place to live. At the very least, my brother should have made sure the place was furnished. You ready?” he asked, holding his hand out to me.
I smiled, the warmth from his touch and kindness still radiating through me. I took his hand and intertwined our fingers. “Yes.”