Cup of Sugar (19 page)

She left the kitchen and headed upstairs. Like most men, Conn was visual. He also made no attempt to hide his appreciation for her figure. Whenever he looked at her, she got the distinct impression he was contemplating his method of removal for each item she wore. Then he’d smile. One of those sexy smiles that told her he had a long list of things he planned to do to her once he got those clothes out of his way. The man made her whole body vibrate without a single touch.

She pulled on her favorite dark jeans, a silky camisole and a lavender button-up sweater. Next, the boots she’d worn the day they went skating. Nothing new or fancy, but everything hugged her curves perfectly. When she knocked on his door, he’d like what he saw. If he didn’t eat her up with his eyes and pin her to the wall for a knee-buckling kiss, she’d know to bow out gracefully and walk away.

Not to say it would come to that. Conn legitimately liked her. More than liked. Until she had proof to the contrary, she’d assume nothing had changed since last night, when he’d staked his claim on her very, very clearly.

The rumble of his truck’s engine in the driveway below sent her flying to the window. She peeked from behind the closed blinds, watched him collect his lunch cooler from the passenger seat and jog up the porch stairs to his front door. Good thing she’d thought to park in the lot around the corner. Her appearance on his doorstep, dinner in hand, would come as a total surprise.

In the kitchen, she slid on her oven mitts and pulled the casserole dish from the oven. She grabbed her keys from the hook and moved through the dark house toward the front door. Not her usual or preferred mode of exit because the damn lock was ridiculously fussy, but this way, she wouldn’t set off the motion lights on the back deck. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if he spotted her in transit.

February’s frostiness greeted her as she stepped out the door. She balanced the casserole on top of an empty metal urn that’d held summer flowers. Shivering, she fingered through her keys, searching for the one with the red nail-polish dot. Her color-coded system worked great on the back deck—where there were lights. She should have had the proper key ready before coming out into the black of night. Shit.

A car turned onto the street, its oncoming headlights shining her way. There, had it. She pinched the metal between her thumb and index finger, stood—and froze.

The car turned into Conn’s driveway. Honked twice. Parked immediately. A woman bounced from the driver’s seat and onto Conn’s walkway.

His front light blinked on and he practically flew out the door. Nia jumped back, flattening herself against the brick exterior of her house. The cold seeped through her sweater, under her skin, into her bones. She shoved her tongue between her teeth to silence the chattering. Please, please, let him not see her there, lurking in the darkness like a creeper.

“Holy shit, you’re here!” Conn grinned so wide, it was amazing his face didn’t crack right open. In an instant he was down the steps, scooping the dark-haired woman into a hug and swinging her around. “I didn’t expect to see you until next week.”

Oh god, they’d been in touch. They’d made plans to get together.

“What can I say, seeing you ranks higher than getting over my jetlag,” the woman said when Conn finally set her on the ground.

Nia had seen enough. Heard enough. Slowly, she slunk down the wall. Her butt hit the snow-dusted porch boards. She tucked her legs to her chest and her head between her knees to muffle whatever sounds happened next. She’d known this could happen, but she wasn’t ready to experience their possible heaving breathing, smacking lips or declarations of love. Not this close or this soon.

She stayed there until Conn’s light went off, which, mercifully, didn’t take long. Probably because the happy lovers couldn’t wait to get inside and—

Nia pressed a palm firmly over her mouth. No barfing on the porch. Or without a bottle of wine in her stomach to provide just cause. She rose tentatively, dared a glance at his house. All clear.

She gathered up the casserole and tiptoed back inside. Maybe by springtime the nausea would pass and she could go outside again. Look at Conn again. Maybe.

* * * * *

By the time Saturday morning rolled around, Conn was wound tight enough to snap. First, Nia’s Chevy had been MIA Thursday morning when he left for work. He’d texted her to make sure everything was okay, figuring her car had died after work or something. When she’d finally replied, it’d been two-word answer, one of which was “fine.” He was old and wise enough to know that when a woman says she’s fine, she’s anything but. He also knew better than to try to engage in meaningful communication via text messages. So he’d let it ride.

He’d managed to get clear of the rest of the crew at lunch, and after finding a relatively quiet spot on the jobsite, he’d called her. No answer. He’d left a message. Brief, but hey, at least he’d left one. He hated talking to empty air.

She hadn’t returned his call. Or texted. Nothing.

Friday had included more of the same. No messages, text or otherwise.

After that, he’d been so damn distracted he’d installed the wrong fucking cabinetry in an office on the jobsite. Unbelievable. Then, when the client showed up and questioned him on it, Conn had nearly bit his head off. Thank god Killian was a young, laidback guy who’d accepted Conn’s apology with a laugh and a knowing nod. That shit could’ve gotten him fired.

So he’d resolved to stay up until Nia got home from work. As late as necessary, knowing it could easily be two in the morning. Fatigue had obviously won out at some point because he’d spent the night on the couch, dead to the world. Damn it.

He dragged his ass of the couch at Zeus’ insistent bark. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and headed for the kitchen where he found the dog staring at his empty food bowl.

“Reel it in, crazy dog,” he said as a string of Zeus’ drool hit the floor. “You think Nia’s going to want to see that every mealtime?” He scooped some kibble into the dish and leaned on the counter while the dog chowed down.

Where the hell had that thought come from? Yeah, he’d been disappointed to find Nia hadn’t stayed the night Tuesday. He’d very much enjoyed waking up with her body pressed against him at the motel New Year’s morning. Wanting her to sleep over after sex and having her around at every mealtime on a daily basis were two different things. Only the more he considered it, the easier he could envision the second scenario.

Neither option would happen if he didn’t catch up with her soon. He crossed to the window to do a driveway check. Nia’s little Chevy sat next to his truck, both vehicles lightly dusted with snow. Good.

He didn’t get it. The other night had started out rocky but ended goddamn fantastic. Whatever Nia’s reason for going on that date Tuesday, she’d ended up in Conn’s arms. In his bed.

Working opposite schedules made connecting challenging, but it damn sure didn’t make it impossible. Something was off. About time he found out what.

Enough waiting. Enough artificial communication.

He headed to the front hall, pulled on his boots and stepped outside. Nia lit up his radar as soon as he rounded the corner of the house. She was halfway to her car, head down and looking like a woman on a mission. Damn. He’d kind of hoped she’d answer her door in her pajamas. Then he could haul her off to bed to do their talking—and other things—between the sheets. At least he hadn’t missed her. This would have to do for now.

“Hey,” he called as she reached for the car door handle.

Her head snapped up, her pretty face turning to look at him. No smile, no excitement there.

“Conn. Hi.” Her tone matched her expression—dread. “I have to get to work. My assistant manager had a family emergency and I need to cover the lunch shift.”

“It’s seven-thirty in the morning.” He took a couple steps, putting them in close proximity, and she visibly stiffened. Well, shit. The text, the unreturned call, now this. “You’re avoiding me.”

“I’m…keeping busy.”

“Sounds like the same thing to me. Want to fill me in?”

“Okay.” She tossed her purse inside the car and shut the door. Smoothed her hands over her coat a few times before balling them into fists at her sides. “What happened between us was a lapse in judgment on my part. I knew I shouldn’t get involved with you, but I let it happen anyway. And it was fun, but I’ve put it behind me.”

If she could make fists, so could he. Only he folded his across his chest while staring her down. “That simple, huh.”

“Yes.”

Like hell it was. He moved in some more. Heard her breath hitch. Felt the electricity between them zing. He’d show her exactly how
not simple
it was.

Or not. Nia jumped back as Lindsay’s car whipped into his driveway.

“Shit. Not now.”

Nia speared him with a glare and yanked her door open.

“Nia, wait—”

“Hey, looks like I got here just in time.” Lindsay bounced up the driveway toward them, clueless to her incredibly bad timing. “I came to surprise you and take you to breakfast.” She threw her arm around his waist and gave him a sideways hug while smiling at Nia. And totally sizing her up, no doubt. “Now I can take you both, get to know your new neighbor, since I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot of her from here out.”

The color drained from Nia’s face. “I have to go.”

“Nia—” He grimaced at the slam of metal. Gritted his teeth as she reversed out of the driveway at lightning speed.

“I thought you said she was sweet.”

Conn sighed. “I did. She is.”

“Then that is one pissed-off little sweet person.” She nodded toward her car. “Come on. Let’s go stuff ourselves with all-you-can-eat bacon and you can tell me how you managed to screw things up since I saw you on Wednesday.”

He snorted. “What makes you think I’m the problem?”

“Men are
always
the problem, baby brother.”

* * * * *

Managing the restaurant in a big, five-star hotel had its advantages. Decent enough pay to make a modest mortgage payment on a fixer-upper. Opportunity for advancement within the chain if she was interested. This morning’s advantage—hanging out in one of the cushy lobby chairs for several hours without somebody calling security. The free coffee didn’t hurt either. After working the closing shift last night, her six-thirty alarm had sounded positively evil. And the ungodly waking hour had been for naught. Conn had caught her sneaking away.

She should’ve parked around the corner again. Her absentee vehicle Thursday morning seemed to have bothered Conn, and she had to admit, that gave her a lift. A small one, but a lift nonetheless.

Honestly, he had some nerve acting like he gave a shit. Nervier yet was the way he’d practically pinned her to the side of her car. The smoldering look in his eyes.

She wouldn’t have pegged him for a two-timer. What a joke. Her judgment when it came to men had always sucked. So did her self-control. If she had any, she wouldn’t have landed herself in yet another tangled mess with a guy she had to look at every day.

In the past, she’d fled the scene. Well. She sure as hell wasn’t running away this time. Her house was imperfect and outdated, but it was hers, damn it. She’d fallen in love with its character and charm long before she’d fallen for Conn’s.

She’d lied to Conn when she told him she’d put their “fun” behind her. That would take more than a couple of days. The comment about their fun being a lapse in judgment, however, had been true. In a way, she ought to be grateful to this CeeCee woman for coming back now. The situation had forced Nia out before she invested even more of her heart in a going-nowhere relationship. Again.

She drained the last of her third cup of coffee. Her cell chimed inside her bag, making her stupid heart jump several beats. She extracted the phone and resumed breathing. A text message from Sara, not Conn.

Your radio silence better mean you’re too busy getting busy to check in. I want to know all the dirty details but I’m out of minutes on my cell and have to pay per text, so don’t reply. Call me at Mom and Dad’s. Don’t ask—just call. You know, this “caring sister” thing isn’t so bad after all. Lol

Oh boy. For Sara to have gone to their parents’ place to crash, things must really have hit rock bottom. Sara had no problem getting jobs—keeping them was another matter. It used to grind Nia’s gears, listening to her parents empathize with Sara’s endless array of unfortunate predicaments. Now that she and Sara were rebuilding their friendship, Nia felt the tug too.

She ran her fingers over the screen, smiling at the last part of Sara’s message. Such different people, the two of them. Sara had made avoiding commitments her life’s mission. Nia was the opposite. More than anything, she wanted the classic happily ever after. A man who’d sweep her off her feet and spend the rest of his life smiling by her side. The relationship didn’t have to be perfect, but it had to be solid, it had to last. The way it had for her parents.

Sara had been correct about one thing in her advice to Nia though. It was high time Nia stopped changing herself in her efforts to keep a man. She was who she was. She wanted what she wanted. Someday, to the right guy, that would be enough. More than enough.

She sighed and stuffed the phone back into her purse.

Unfortunately, that man wouldn’t be Conn.

* * * * *

Conn leaned against the red vinyl bench and patted his very full stomach. Forget booze to drown the sorrows. Greasy, heavily salted pork products were the way to go, especially when accompanied by homemade hash browns and a couple of slippery, over-easy eggs.

“Good thing you drove. I may need a nap on the way home.”

His sister pushed their empty plates away and crossed her arms on the table. “Now that you’re fully baconated, tell me why your girlfriend couldn’t get away from us fast enough.”

Didn’t he wish he had the answer to that? “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Oh, Conn.” Lindsay face-planted onto her folded arms. Dramatics complete, she looked up at him. “What’s wrong with this one?”