21. Mary
Chapter 21
Mary
I wake, my body tingling from head to toe. I’m immediately aware of the warmth between my legs and the soft pressure against my core.
My eyes flutter open to find myself looking at a pair of deep brown eyes framed by thick lashes that are almost too pretty for a man. They belong to none other than Connor Milton, whose lips are currently pressed against my most intimate area.
“Good morning,” he says.
My words come out of me as a moan when his fingers thrust inside me. “Good morning.”
I rock my hips, chasing the building pleasure. He works me slowly but surely toward release, his fingers curling and uncurling. Knowing exactly how to touch me, make my body tremble and my mind swirl with pleasure. I gasp, clutching at the bedsheets, completely lost in the sensations he elicits from me .
I’m close, so close.
Connor seems pleased by my reaction, continuing to stroke me until I reach climax with a low whimper. I collapse onto the pillows afterward, spent and satisfied.
He kisses a path up my body and hugs me close. “I’m content to stay like this all day.”
I hum in agreement, basking in the afterglow and his warmth.
It feels so natural waking up like this—I mean, not exactly like this, but beside him with his arms around me, his scent enveloping me. Like we’ve been together forever instead of… what has it been? A few weeks? A month?
I don’t even know. Time seems to blur and stretch when I’m with him. One moment, we’re fighting. The next, we’re tearing each other’s clothes off in a frenzy of lust. And then there are quiet moments like this, where we just… are. Existing in the same space, breathing the same air.
Can I trust him? Trust this?
It feels dangerous to want someone so much, to give him that kind of power over me. But I can’t deny the magnetic pull I feel.
Damn him for making me feel this way.
Damn him, and damn me too. Because I don’t want to let him go. No matter how much my head screams to be cautious, and my heart. My foolish, eager heart. It wants to leap. Wants to believe. Wants him .
He means something to me. More than I ever intended. More than is probably wise.
“Hey,” Connor says. “What’s going on?”
“Just enjoying the peace and quiet.”
He probably sees right through my flimsy excuse.
I shift so I’m straddling him, peering down into his face. “Will you tell me more about your family?”
He rests his hands on my hips, his touch warm and possessive. “What do you want to know?”
“Your father. You’ve mentioned having a good relationship with him.”
“My father raised Ezra and me on his own after my mother left us when I was seven,” he says quietly. “I don’t remember her well. Just little things, like the lullabies she used to sing or the way she smelled of lavender. One day, she was just gone.”
He pauses, and I stay silent until he’s ready to continue.
“My father never spoke ill of her. Never told us why she left. But I know it devastated him. He worked his ass off together with my uncle to give us opportunities and taught us everything we need for life. Those first few years were rough, with him juggling work and taking care of two little boys on his own.”
Connor’s eyes meet mine, his expression softening. “That’s where Margaret came in. She was my nanny, but became so much more. Taught me how to ride a bike, patched up my scrapes when I fell. She was the one who kissed my hurts when I was sick, baked cookies, and let me lick the spoon. Margaret was the closest thing I had to a mother. ”
I reach for his hand, twining my fingers through his. His childhood sounds lonely but full of love, even with the absence of his mother. I think of my own loud, chaotic family and wonder if he envies the bustle or prefers the intimacy of a smaller unit.
“Your father and Margaret did right by you,” I say. “I’m glad you had them.”
He nods, some unspoken emotion darkening his eyes. I lean in and brush my lips over his, hoping to chase away whatever shadows lurk there.
“They did their best.” He shrugs. “I hope you get to meet them someday. I think you’d like each other.”
“Looking forward to it.” My lips curve into a smile. “After all, you’re already best buddies with my father.”
Connor’s answering grin lights up his whole face, erasing the last of my uncertainties.
“What about your brother?”
His smile fades, and his eyes cloud with an emotion I can’t quite decipher. Sadness? Guilt?
“Ezra,” he says. “He’s a few years younger than me. Looks just like our mother, blond hair and blue eyes.”
“Are you close?”
He falls silent, and I trace soothing circles over his chest, waiting patiently.
“We were, once. But things changed after she left. My father had a hard time looking at Ezra for a while. I think it reminded him too much of what he’d lost.” His hand strokes up and down my side. “Ezra was just a kid. Barely remembers our mother at all. But I think some part of him still knows our father rejected him, even if just for a little while. It did something to him. Made him believe we didn’t want him either.”
“That’s terrible.” A little boy dealing with that kind of pain. Is that why Connor is so protective? Does he think I will abandon him, too? Are we even at that stage?
“Ezra looks so much like her, talks and laughs like her.” His hands halt on my hip, his grip tightening. “My brother hates himself for it. Because we hated him back then. He tries to hide it, but he resents us. Thinks we don’t care. He acts out for attention and starts trouble wherever he goes. Hockey helped, something where he could use his pent-up anger, but underneath it all, he’s just my little brother. The little boy who looked at me like his hero. The kid who asked me to stay with him, and I couldn’t until it was too late.”
I reach up and cup Connor’s cheek. “You love him, though.” It isn’t a question. I can see the ache, the regret in his eyes, a deep and abiding sorrow.
“I just wish he’d let me in, you know? We were so close once, and now… Ezra always thought Dad favored me, but that wasn’t true. Dad was just stricter with Ezra because he was younger. He didn’t want Ezra falling into the same trouble I did.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“The usual teenage stuff. Drinking, skipping school, petty theft. Nothing too serious, but enough to worry my dad. He thought Ezra might follow my lead, so he came down hard on him.”
“Did it work?” I ask. “Did Ezra stay out of trouble?”
“For the most part, yeah.” A self-deprecating smile forms on his lips. “I don’t know. It’s too late.”
“It’s never too late,” I say. “People can surprise you. All it takes is one moment to change everything. You just have to take the opportunity when it presents itself.”
Connor searches my face. “Would you take such a chance? If it’s something you want? Even if it’s wrong?”
“How can it be wrong if you want it?”
He kisses me softly. “You’re pretty smart, you know that?”
“I have my moments. But seriously, look at us. For us, it also just took one moment.”
“A moment I might have to still punish you for.” He gives me a little teasing spank.
“Behave. We were having a serious conversation.”
“My apologies.”
“Anyway,” I say. “All I meant is that people can change. And relationships can heal. Maybe Ezra just needs to know you really care about him. That you accept him as he is.”
“Maybe,” Connor says. “You really are too good, you know that? Always seeing the best in people.”
“I just call it like I see it.”
“I’m glad you see me that way. But enough about me. What about your family? I know how much they mean to you. ”
“My family is complicated.” How do I even begin to explain? “My mother means well, but she can be overbearing. She’s always wanted the best for us, her way of showing love, I suppose. Her and my ways don’t always align.”
“And your father? You seem close.”
“Daddy’s girl, remember? He’s always supported me and Ella no matter what. We don’t always see eye to eye, but his love is unconditional. I’m grateful for that. By the way, did you really get my dad a gift?”
Connor grins. “I might have given him a bottle of 30-year-old scotch to thank him for his… enthusiasm in supporting our relationship.”
“Connor!” I smack his chest, torn between exasperation and laughter. Trust Connor to do something so over the top.
“What? I wanted to make a good first impression with your father. And if it paves the way for him to give us his blessing, so much the better.”
“You have my dad wrapped around your finger. He loves you.”
“Only your mother is a different story.” His expression turns pensive. “Do you think it’s too late for me to fight for your mother’s approval? I get the sense she’s not my biggest fan.”
I nestle into the crook of his arm. “Mom’s just worried. She’s been pushing me to settle down for years, but…”
“But I’m not exactly the posh, respectable sort of man she had in mind,” Connor finishes for me .
“At a family dinner, my father highlighted how much more suitable you would be for me.”
“Did he now? And what did your mother have to say about that?”
“She was less than pleased.” I laugh softly at the memory. “She had invited some boring doctor she was trying to set me up with. She’ll come around. It’s just—well, she’s never approved of any of my relationships, and she certainly won’t approve of this.”
“This?” Connor’s lips quirk. “You mean us?”
Oh no. I was rambling on without thinking.
“Yes, us.” I gesture between us. “Whatever this is. She’ll hate it. She’ll do everything she can to drive us apart.”
“Hey.” Connor cups my face in his hands, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Listen to me. I don’t give a damn what your mother thinks about us. But would it be easier for you if we kept it between us? For now?”
Is he suggesting it because he wants to keep it a secret?
“Maybe,” I say. “At least for the moment? Would you be okay with that?”
Please say no. Please.
“If it helps you. Yes.”
“Okay.”
It’s fine, right? It’s enough. At least for now.
We can get to know each other without my mother intervening. No need to get worried. When we’re together like this, it feels right in a way, and that’s enough. For now.