As the night aged, Jillian didn’t move or fall asleep. She was wrapped in Connor’s arms. She was safe and warm. For the first time in her life, she felt loved. But she couldn’t stop the tears from silently falling onto her pillow.
All the times she’d been with a man drifted through her thoughts. Her senior year of high school, an awkward encounter in a car. Her freshman year in college when she’d had too much to drink. Then, she’d been twenty-five and didn’t want to spend the Christmas holidays alone. A year later, when she’d thought she might be falling in love, only to find out he loved his wife more. One hurried affair in the office. One night when she went home with a total stranger and he passed out before he even tried to remove her clothes.
Not much of a love life, she thought.
Until tonight. For once someone had truly made love to her. So much more than sex. So much more frightening. She wouldn’t walk away this time without leaving her heart behind. He’d made love with a passion that surprised her, but it was the way he held her after passion stilled that made Connor perfect.
He moved in his sleep, instinctively brushing her arm as if making sure she was still close.
“I’m here,” she whispered.
He rubbed his scratchy chin against her shoulder. “I should go. If Mrs. Kelly finds me here she’ll charge me for the night.”
Jillian giggled. “Yeah, but she’ll cook you breakfast while she speed-dials all her friends.”
“I couldn’t care less. I’m guessing half the town already knows how much you mean to me. I’ve never been any good at hiding anything from anyone. No sense in starting now.”
Somewhere below, in the silent house, a door opened and closed. Connor sat up. “I thought Mrs. K was out of town again.”
“She was.”
Footsteps started up the stairs.
“Did you lock your door?” Connor asked, leaning low against her ear.
“I think so. I had other things on my mind.” She laughed softly. “And your hands on my body, if I remember right.”
His fingers slid over her hip. “I remember that.”
They waited silently for another sound.
The steps stopped on the second-floor landing. Laughter rumbled through the stairwell, then one of the second-floor bedroom doors opened. One man’s laughter, and one woman’s, sounding very much like the short, chubby Mrs. Kelly.
“We’re not alone.” Connor leaned over her, suddenly more interested in tasting her throat than the fact intruders were one floor below. “It appears Mrs. K has a guest,” he murmured, as his mouth moved down her throat. “Maybe we should be very quiet and try to do something to take our minds off the intruders.”
“But that’s not her room.” Jillian understood he’d pressed close so they could talk, but she quickly became fully aware neither of them had any clothes on.
That unmistakable full laugh of Mrs. Kelly’s came again, finally pulling Connor away from his exploring mission.
His low voice brushed Jillian’s ear. “Maybe they’re just trying out the room.”
Jillian nodded and listened. It sounded like someone jumping on the bed below her room. She couldn’t make out any words, but two people were talking or moaning, definitely laughing.
Connor kissed her lightly, distracted once more from what was going on twelve feet below. His hand slowly moved along her back from neck to hip as if learning every curve.
She sighed. “There is something to be said for a man with a slow hand,” she whispered, then cried out with joy as he began kissing his way down the same path.
They settled back into the nearness of each other, both forgetting anything happening outside her tiny room.
Finally, Jillian heard the door below open and two sets of footsteps hushed down the stairs.
One word was loud enough to understand. “Pancakes.”
Connor pulled away with a groan and stood. He began putting on his clothes.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“If Mrs. Kelly is making pancakes, I’m joining them.”
Jillian grabbed the sheet when she realized she’d stood without thinking about where her clothes were. “You’re kidding.”
“No. We slip out the side door, come in through the front and act like we’ve just stumbled upon them.”
Jillian giggled. “It won’t work.”
“Bet you dinner it will.” He buttoned his shirt.
“Wait a minute. You already owe me dinner. We had a date tonight, remember? Just me and you alone. Dinner.” She grabbed a sweatshirt from her desk chair. “We forgot dinner.”
“That’s probably why I’m willing to risk it all for pancakes.” He pulled on his boots without bothering with the socks. In the milky glow from the streetlight, she saw him smile. “At least I got the just me and you alone right for a while.”
She slipped into her jeans and tennis shoes.
“Ready, Sundance?” He took a step toward the door.
“Ready, Butch.”
Connor took her hand in his, pausing just a moment to smile at her, before he pulled her out the unlocked door. In that one glance she saw how young he was. Not the mayor, the head of the family, the father, the one everyone turned to, but just Connor, the dreamer, the adventurer, the lover.
Two minutes later, the two outlaws looked quite proper as they walked through the foyer, crossed the parlor and stepped into the kitchen.
Mrs. Kelly’s cheeks turned apple red, but the ghost sitting comfortably at the counter, who must have been haunting her house for years, just smiled. She introduced Mr. Murry as a fellow bed-and-breakfast owner from Dallas and said they were checking out each other’s establishments for ideas.
Jillian noticed they were both dressed, except for shoes, but Mrs. Kelly’s apron read I break for wine, ice cream, and green-eyed men.
The man in her kitchen had green eyes that seemed to twinkle with laughter.
When the two men shook hands, Jillian caught Mr. Murry winking at Connor and to her shock, Connor winked back. They didn’t say a word but she swore she could read their minds. Both were thinking, let the women play their roles, but we both know what’s going on here.
So Jillian acted out her part, asking Mr. Murry all about his B an B and Mrs. Kelly invited them to join Mr. Murry in a taste test of her famous pancakes. No one seemed to notice that the tasting could have waited until morning. No one asked why the mayor was there so late, or why Mr. Murry was visiting so early.
An hour later, when Jillian and Connor walked out on the porch, they hugged as they fought down laughter.
“You know what’s going on between those two?” She giggled. “They’re having a wild time and the affair comes with pancakes. From the sounds coming from below my room, they must have been trying out the beds.”
“I know, but I don’t care what they do.” He kissed her lightly. “I had a wonderful night with you. Best of my life.”
“Me, too,” she added, and kissed him again. “We’d better get some sleep. I’m guessing you’ll have a full day tomorrow.”
“I will. I’m thinking of hiring someone just to take calls in my office.” He didn’t let her go. “But I’d give up sleep forever for more time with you.”
She felt the same. What they’d shared wasn’t some fairy tale from a movie. It was real. Something they could build on if she’d stay. A perfect night they’d both remember the rest of their lives if she left.
“I’ll see you soon. We’re due at the museum at nine. By the time I get ready, it will be almost time.” The kiss she gave him was gentle, a promise of others to come.
Finally, he straightened, his arms still refusing to let her go. He looked down at her and she saw sorrow cross his face for a moment before he hid his feelings. “Stay, Jillian. Stay forever.” He’d said his thoughts aloud.
She gulped for air as though she’d been slammed too quickly into reality. “I can’t. Please don’t ask me again. It will only make it harder when the time comes to leave.”
He kissed her forehead and stepped away. She knew his heart was breaking, but he was fighting so hard to make it easier for her. What kind of man does that?
Deep down she knew the answer.
The kind of man who loves without boundaries.