Anything for You

They got to his house, his beautiful, perfect house with the backyard all landscaped with hydrangeas and roses and irises. A completely wasted porch without a single chair or plant. He unlocked the door, pulled her inside, through the living room, down the hall.

“Connor, I was just being honest,” she said, and horribly, it suddenly seemed as if she was about to cry.

He towed her straight into his bedroom. It was so obviously a man’s bedroom—big solid wooden bed frame, no decorative pillows. Dresser, night table, everything matching. No pictures on the wall except one of the gorge in Watkins Glen.

He looked at her for a long minute, eyes inscrutable.

“Are you mad at me?” she said in her best no-nonsense voice.

“No.”

Another long beat passed.

“You were seven years old when your mother had Davey,” he said. “You are in no way responsible for his condition. I’m going to tell you that until you believe me, Jessica Dunn. You’re the best sister in the world, you had shitty parents and it wasn’t your fault. It just wasn’t. The only reason Davey is so great today is because of you.”

It felt like a razor blade was stuck in her throat.

Then his hands went to her hair. Pulled out her ponytail and slid his fingers through her hair. Held her close for a long, long time, warm and solid, just holding her, and it felt as though her insides were shaking, and it was all she could do not to cry.

Then Connor lowered his mouth to her neck and kissed her, a soft kiss that scraped her skin and made her entire side electrified. Another kiss, thank God, because this she could handle, then another just under her ear, his fingers still threading through her hair.

“I don’t want anyone but you,” he said, lips moving against her skin. “Stop telling me to find someone else.”

He worked his way down her neck, then up the other side, and Jess’s breathing became ragged, her legs wobbly. When his mouth finally touched hers, it was gentle and tender, just the lightest pressure. He kissed each corner of her mouth, framed her face with his hands, then kissed her again.

He was seducing her.

The thought surprised her. They’d slept together so many times, and still he was seducing her. His fingers found the buttons of her shirt, and he kissed her as he undid each one, taking his time, touching the skin revealed. Another button, and another. She could feel him hard and solid against her, heat shimmering off his body. His hands slid under the shirt, pushing it off her shoulders, then trailed down her back.

“Connor,” she said, and her voice was ragged, and this time there were tears in her eyes.

“Shh” was all he said, kissing her again. His tongue brushed hers, then his mouth was back on her neck. His clever fingers unhooked her bra, which joined her shirt on the floor, and his hands skimmed over her breasts.

She felt heavy and humming with lust, her skin alive, her heart thudding. He stepped back and pulled off his own shirt—oh, God, he was beautiful, lean and muscled, then unbuttoned her denim shorts and kissed her again, the hair on his chest scraping her skin so deliciously that her knees did buckle then.

He moved her to the bed and unbuttoned his own jeans, finally, and then he was naked and on top of her, and she could barely hold a thought except yes and please and more.

And when he was inside her, it was perfect. They were perfect.

“Open your eyes, Jess,” he whispered.

She did.

“I love you,” he said. “I love you, Jessica Dunn.”

Her eyes were suddenly full of tears that slipped down her temples, into her hair. Connor brushed them away with his thumbs and smiled. “I love you,” he said again.

And for the first time, she knew it was true.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CONNOR WAS MAKING progress with Jessica. He was sure of it.

In hindsight, he could see popping the question a few months ago had been a dumb-ass move, completely out of the blue in Jessica’s mind. But winning the heart and mind of Davey Dunn—that was flippin’ genius.

The fact that Jess wanted to buy her own house was a setback, but since he didn’t have a better plan, he just ignored it for the time being. Maybe her offer would be accepted, maybe not. Things like inspections and bank loans had to take place. She wouldn’t be moving in next week.

And even if she did, that might be okay. He wasn’t going anywhere.

What she told him about her childhood just about killed him. He knew he couldn’t just tell her Davey’s condition wasn’t her fault and erase everything. But he could stay. He could show her he loved her.

He could show her she didn’t have to do this alone, and show her that being happy didn’t mean the other shoe was about to drop. He’d done a lot of reading about adult children of alcoholics. He was trying to understand, trying to work his way into her heart, because he wanted that more than he’d ever wanted anything.

Trust, and happiness. Two things that Jess hadn’t had a lot of. And fun.

One night, he asked Jess and Davey to come to a town softball game. O’Rourke’s was enjoying their seventh straight year of championship, even without Colleen, who nonetheless came as a spectator with the baby and Lucas and Rufus the Doofus. The Irish Wolfhound was like Nana from Peter Pan, sitting next to the baby’s stroller, towering over it, glancing inside every thirty seconds or so.

Rufus wasn’t the only dog here; there was Blue, Faith’s golden retriever; there was Chico Three; and there was Chico’s best friend and goddess, Lady Fluffy.

Savannah came over to say hi and bent down to scratch Fluffy. “I love her name,” she said sincerely, and Connor tried not to flinch. “It suits her.”

“I hear you’re going to be a big sister, Savannah,” Jessica said to her.

“Yep. Another brother. I’d rather have a dog.”

“You can share Fluffy here,” Connor said. “And brothers are great, have you forgotten?”

“Big brothers are.”

“Little brothers are, too,” Jess said, putting her arm around Davey.

“Well, I am not changing any diapers.” Savannah grimaced. Looked like she was coming into some adolescent sulkiness, and Connor felt a little glad. Keep her parents on their toes.

“I don’t like babies,” Davey said. “They cry a lot.”

“I know,” Savannah said. “Mom says the new baby will be her little prince. Gross.”

Connor glanced over his shoulder. There were Pete and Gail, schmoozing it up with the town’s mayor. Pete never missed one of Savannah’s games. Part of the new and improved fatherhood package.

“Well, my sister and I have a game to win,” he said to Jess and Davey. “Wish us luck.”

Davey held up Lady Fluffy. “Good luck, Daddy,” he said, making his voice squeaky.

“Dave, come on! I’m trying to impress the women.”

“Keep working on that,” Jess said with a smile, and Savannah laughed.

The game was the usual slaughter, as no one could touch O’Rourke’s, thanks to Colleen’s aggressive recruiting strategy—free food and drinks on every winning night. In the seventh inning, Connor belted a long home run so far out of the park that no one even bothered running to the fence. Driving in the Murphy girls and Bryce for a grand slam, he touched home, high-fived Savannah and ran right over to Jessica and kissed her firmly on the mouth.