22. Jess
Jess
Exhausted is an understatement.
I am bone-weary, drained, knackered, fatigued, shattered, dead-on-my-feet tired. And yet, I’ve never felt so energized in my life.
Because the open house was a roaring success. People loved the design, the staging. Even the art. Plus, I managed to stand up to stupid Mark when he showed up snooping for my even stupider ex, and best of all, Conor had my back every step of the way.
He said he’d be lucky to have me.
And then, the biggest surprise came at the end of the event, when Conor announced a silent auction was taking place for the artwork on the walls.
My artwork on the walls.
And even though I insisted again that I was happy to give my paintings away, that they were worth nothing, Conor had looked at me fiercely and said, “no, they’re not.” He went on to reveal there were already multiple bids.
It was more than I could have ever asked for, and I’m beyond grateful for his belief in me.
A surge of happiness shoots through my body as I load the last box of leftover snacks into the back of Conor’s truck. I set it down, turn away, have second thoughts, and turn back, cracking the box open to swipe another cookie. I cram it in my mouth.
Mmm. Warm chocolate chips melt on my tongue, mingling perfectly with the thick butter and brown sugar flavors of the batter. We may have gone a bit overboard on the food, but who doesn’t like chocolate chip cookies? Karla, apparently. Because I didn’t see her eating any.
I lean against the truck and pluck my phone from my purse. Courtney’s been texting all afternoon, asking how everything is going. I finally have some time to reply.
Courtney: How did it go?
Courtney: Sorry I couldn’t be there, I had six dogs today and I didn’t think your lover boy would appreciate me turning up with the motley crew.
Courtney: Jess, answer your phone. I’m dying over here!
Courtney: Are you mad I called him your lover boy? If so, I’m sorry. But if you’re not mad, I’m not sorry.
I cackle with laughter and text my bestie back.
Jess: Not mad. Also not my lover boy. It went super well!
Courtney: Pina coladas at my place to celebrate?
I cringe a little, suddenly very glad to have an excuse to get out of drinking Courtney’s “famous pina coladas” again tonight.
Jess: Can’t, sorry. I have a date.
Courtney: LOVER BOY’S TAKING YOU ON A SECOND DATE?
Jess: Still not my lover boy. And yessssss.
Courtney: I’ll be there at 7am tomorrow. Sharp. Because I’m going to need every detail in person.
Courtney: Unless you want me to come over later tonight. I’m not sure I can wait til morning.
Jess: See you tomorrow *sticky out tongue emoji*
Courtney: Be good. Or not. *kissy face emoji*
I’m grinning at my phone like an idiot when Conor’s sexy voice distracts me. “What are you smiling at?”
My head jerks up to see that he’s standing in front of me, arms stacked with boxes.
“Oh, I, uh…” I stutter, then I smile flimsily. “Never mind. Not important.”
He steps around me to pile the last of the stuff in the truck bed. Then, he holds out his hand. I stare at that big hand for way too long. Does he want me to hold it? High five it? Shake it?
“Take my hand, Jess,” he says. But not in a bossy way. In a smooth, silky way that makes me want to do anything he asks.
I slide my palm into his warm grip, and he gives my hand a little squeeze. His smile makes my knees weak and his clear eyes gaze into mine. “Today was great. You did amazing, and I can’t thank you enough.”
My mouth is dry and I feel like I might just float away on a cloud. Because I’m clearly in heaven.
But then, his expression becomes wickedly playful. “Now, are you ready for tonight to start?”
No.
Yes.
Could I ever actually be ready for a date with Conor Brady?
I settle for a casual nod, heart beating fast. “Where’s Karla?”
Conor smiles as we walk up the pathway and back into the empty house.
“Gone,” he says. “Everyone’s gone. It’s just you and I.”
Chills erupt on my skin. It’s finally time for our second date.
Conor brings me back into the house, and I expect him to turn off the last light in the living room before locking up the place. I sigh happily as I look around, thrilled and relieved with how the day went.
Conor flips off the living room light, but then, instead of getting ready to leave, he tugs gently on my hand, leading me towards the stairs.
I frown, bewildered. “Where are we going?”
“To our date.”
He starts climbing the stairs and disappointment bubbles in my chest, bitter and sharp. I know what lies up there—a ton of furnished bedrooms with freshly-made beds.
I stop fast, red alert signs flashing in my mind. “Conor Brady, I am not going to the bedroom of a strange house with you… that’s not what I would classify as a date.”
Conor turns to me and his green eyes spark with what looks like.
.. annoyance. The disappointment grows, burning and heavy in my chest. Have I completely misjudged him this whole time?
Was I unable to see the forest for the trees?
Has Conor been doing nice things for me just to try to get me into bed—a notch on a bedpost to forget tomorrow?
And now that I’ve said no, is he mad?
If so, he’s the worst type of guy. The worst.
A flash of anger sears my veins and I yank my hand out of his grasp. I make for the front door without looking back, my head spinning uncontrollably. I came here with Conor in his truck but I’d sooner walk home than be stuck with a guy who doesn’t understand the concept of “no.”
“Jess. Wait. We’re not going to the bedroom.” Conor’s voice speaks from behind me. “Just look at me, Jess. Please.”
There’s an edge to his voice that I’ve never heard before. And, for some reason, it makes me turn around.
His eyes burn as they zero in on my face and, when he speaks again, his voice is clipped and matter-of-fact.
“I was taking you for a picnic dinner on the rooftop. Not for a quickie in a strange bedroom. Which I don’t do with anyone, for the record.
Despite what you may think of me, I actually feel like sex is better when it’s saved for someone special. ”
I frown, anger and disappointment still lighting a fire in my veins. But then, I notice the way his brow crinkles, the way his lips turn down at the edges. His eyes refuse to meet mine, and the world stops spinning.
Conor doesn’t look annoyed or frustrated. He looks… hurt.
All at once, the fiery anger I felt evaporates into thin air. A heavy wave of mortification washes through my body. “Conor, I’m so sorry, I...”
I trail off, lost for words. I’d clearly made a terrible assumption about him. I felt awful.
“Don’t be sorry.” Conor shakes his head and offers me a small smile. “I just want you to know that I’d never use you like that. I’m not that guy. You deserve so much better than someone who’s just after one thing.”
I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes. “So... you don’t want to get me into bed?”
He laughs. “Of course I’d like to get you into bed, Jess. I’m only human. But, I want to get to know you better even more. And, I want to start the get-to-know-you-better process by taking you on a nice second date.”
“Oh,” I say dumbly.
He takes a tentative step closer to me. “You’re worth getting to know, Jess. I want to spend time with you, hear your thoughts, find out what your favorite color is, when you had your first kiss… what you think the meaning of life is.”
Conor focuses his gaze on me, all traces of laughter gone, as he comes to stand directly in front of me. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, brushing my cheek as he does so. My skin lights where he touches it, and I can’t help but fixate on his face, mere inches from mine.
His voice drops to barely above a whisper. “I want to know all of it. Everything that makes you the person you are. Okay?”
“Okay,” I say. My voice is shaky and my heartbeat skitters wildly.
Conor grins that slow, sexy grin of his, and I just about melt into a puddle. “Now that that’s cleared up, would you like to come upstairs? To the roof ?”
I nod. Smile too. “I’d love to.”
He takes my hand again and leads me upstairs, past the bedrooms, and to the rooftop patio. When I step outside, my breath catches and I blink a few times, hardly believing that this is reality. Conor Brady has blown all of my expectations out of the water for what feels like the thousandth time.
It’s a blissful evening—not too hot and not too cold.
The warm summer breeze carries the smell of hydrangeas and the woodsmoke of a nearby barbecue.
The entire patio is decorated with flickering Chinese lanterns, the light warm and cozy.
Beyond the patio, the cityscape of Atlanta makes the most mesmerizing backdrop.
On the floor, a checkered picnic blanket features a cheeseboard, a bottle of champagne, and two glass flutes.
Next to those, there’s a tub of what looks like chocolate gelato.
I look at him, openmouthed, and he just shrugs.
“See? Picnic.”
I have no words, so I settle on hugging him.
I lock my hands behind his neck and bury my head in his chest. The fabric of his t-shirt is soft and warm against my skin.
He laughs and wraps his arms around me, hugging me back.
And, for a few minutes, we stand in each other’s arms, swaying to the soundtrack of the city pulsing in the distance.
He holds me tight, like he never wants to let me go, and my heart glows.
When we finally break apart, he’s smiling. “I didn’t mean to mislead you, or make you think I didn’t respect you, Jess.”
“You’ve been nothing but a gentleman,” I tell him. Well, an extremely flirtatious, sexy gentleman. But, I’m not telling him that. “I think I’m just on edge about what happened earlier with Mark.”
Conor sits on the picnic blanket and gestures to the spot next to him. I collapse on the ground, glad to rest my tired legs.