Chapter 14
Brittany
This is crazy, I think to myself, staring at the door. Is it proper dating etiquette to drop in on someone at work just to say ‘hey’? Probably not, but Connor does own the place and I’m in the area, so what the hell. I tug the door open and the familiar bell dings, signaling my entry.
Everyone in the shop turns toward me. I freeze, surprised at the amount of people in here. Honestly, I thought it would just be Connor and a client. Nope, there’s actually…one, two, three, four—
“Can I help you?”
I turn toward the front desk and the tiny girl seated behind it. “Um, I’m here to see Connor.”
“Good timing,” she says. “He just finished with a client. He’s in the pisser.”
Okay. That’s not at all what I expected her to say, but she’s cute in a gothic Tinker Bell sort of way so I decide to go with it. “Is it okay if I wait?”
Tinker Bell shrugs, popping the gum in her mouth. “Suit yourself. You can keep me company. I’m hella bored.”
I stick my hand out. “I’m Brittany.”
She looks at my outstretched hand hesitantly before slipping her much smaller, more delicate one into mine. “Nora.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Are you sure you’re in the right place?” she asks, scrunching her nose.
“Hell yes, she’s in the right place.” Turning around, I come face-to-face with Connor. “I see you’ve met Nora,” he says, snaking an arm around my waist. I step into him, the front of our bodies molding together.
“I did meet her.” My words come out way too husky for my liking, so I clear my voice. “She’s very sweet. You’re very sweet,” I say, looking over Connor’s shoulder. Nora is staring at us, mouth agape. I look around, and everyone else in the shop is staring at us too. “Do I have toilet paper hanging out of the back of my pants?” I whisper, pressing in closer to Connor.
He smiles, slow and sexy. “No,” he whispers. “You’re just that fucking gorgeous, and they’re all wondering why in the hell you’re here to see me.”
“Psssh.” Slapping at Connor’s chest, I push away. “I highly doubt that.”
Connor rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” Gripping my hand firmly in his, Connor pulls me to his station. “So, to what do I owe this wonderful surprise visit?”
Once we’re out of sight, Connor drops to a chair and tugs me onto his lap. Large, warm hands find their way up the back of my shirt, and for the life of me I can’t remember what he just asked me. “What?” He continues trailing his fingertips across my skin and my eyes nearly roll back in my head.
“I asked what brought you by,” he says, nuzzling the side of my neck.
“Oh, yeah…I was in the area. I need to go by the Chef’s Nook down the street, so I figured I’d drop by.”
Connor’s deft fingers travel around my waist, stroking my stomach, and a shiver races up my spine. “What do you need from that place?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the way he’s torturing me.
My body is thrumming with sexual energy, and if I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to beg him to fuck me right here in this chair. “You have to stop touching me,” I demand, earning myself a bright, white smile from Connor.
“Sorry, I can’t do that. Now tell me what you’re getting at the Chef’s Nook.”
“A pan for lasagna.”
Connor’s hands stop. “You’re making me lasagna?”
“Is that okay?” I ask, suddenly unsure of my supper choice. He did tell me that was his favorite food, right? Shit. Maybe I was so damn horny I didn’t hear him correctly.
“It’s perfect.”
“Good. I realized when I got home that I don’t have the right-sized pan. It might still be in storage, but there’s no way in hell I’m digging through that mess so I’ll just buy a new one.”
“Don’t.” Connor shakes his head. “I’ve got every size pan you can imagine in my kitchen. Just go borrow what you need. Hell, make dinner at my place if you want. In fact,” he says, waggling his eyebrows, “I wouldn’t complain one bit if I came home and you were wearing nothing but an apron. That would actually be really fucking awesome.”
“Is sex all you think about?” I ask with mock annoyance.
“No,” he says, pressing his lips to the base of my neck. The scruff on his jaw abrades my skin, and I squeeze my thighs together in a desperate attempt to control my ever-growing need. “All I think about is you.”
My body shudders at his words. Damn he’s good. “I like that,” I say, cupping his face in my hands. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you either.”
A deep growl rumbles from Connor’s chest. “You can’t say those things to me when I’m at work because it makes me want to lay you flat on that table,” he says, motioning toward the tiny table with supplies scattered on the surface. “And I cannot lay you flat on that table.” He pauses and glances at said tiny table. “Well, I could, but we’d end up flat on our asses.”
I push up from Connor’s lap. “Tonight you can lay me on any surface you want. How about that?” I whisper, giving him a quick peck on the lips.
“Fuuuuuck,” he says, reaching for my arm.
Laughing, I sidestep his grabby hand. He attempts to glare at me, but it lacks the necessary edge and I end up laughing harder. “Later, I promise. Now are you sure you don’t mind if I borrow a pan?”
“Fine.” He sighs, reminding me of a petulant child. Normally, I would find that annoying, but when Connor does it, I find it cute. “And you’re more than welcome to borrow it.” Connor stands up and leads me out of his workstation toward the front door. “You can go in through the garage. My code is 9080.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re making me lasagna. Trust me, I should be the one thanking you. Oh! By the way”—he snaps his fingers—“is it okay if Logan joins us for dinner tonight?”
“Absolutely. I’d love to meet your best friend.” Lifting up on my tiptoes, I brush my mouth against Connor’s ear. “Just make sure Logan is gone by dessert. I’ve got a can of whipped cream I was planning to bring over.”
“Leave. Now.” I bust up laughing when Connor all but shoves me out the front door. He immediately yanks me back in and gives me a searing kiss that earns us several catcalls from the guys in the shop, and then he shoves me back out again. “Now go.”
“Goodbye, Connor.” I walk out of InkSlingers, and my body feels as though I’m floating down the sidewalk. My heart is full, my soul is happy, and I’m afraid this goofy-ass smile will be permanently etched on my face.
Holy shit, I’m in love.