Chapter 22
Olivia glanced down at her phone and saw a message notification from Connor.
Will meet u at bar opposite your work.
Shit.
Why?
In a flash he replied.
Do I need a reason?
Damn, she hadn’t wanted to upset him.
No, just wondering.
She waited as he typed something.
Am early. Plus thought you might like an escort home for a change.
She sighed. He was trying to do something nice. It wasn’t his fault the bar he’d chosen was a frequent haunt of her coworkers.
The last thing she wanted to do was make a round of awkward introductions.
With renewed focus she returned to her inbox and worked through the emails in super-fast mode as her body hummed with the
anticipation of seeing Connor again. This was the third time he’d come over to hers. On the nights they didn’t see each other,
they spoke on the phone. She even had a new routine. She’d shower, warm up something Connor had left her—every visit, he stocked
up her freezer with meals he claimed were leftovers—and sit on her sofa with a glass of wine waiting for his call.
This thing between them was working. A friendship with occasional benefits when they could squeeze in time to meet in person.
Life was good.
She fired off a reply to the last email, packed away her computer, and marched down the corridor toward the lifts, diverting
into the ladies’ briefly to check she didn’t have ink on her nose or bits of salad between her teeth. And to add a quick dab
of lip gloss. Because her lips were dry.
Her heart kicked up a gear as she pushed open the door to the bar, then tumbled in her chest as she caught sight of Connor.
It didn’t feel real that the tall, sexy man laughing with the attractive female bartender was here for her. Yet when he turned,
there was no doubting the look of delight on his face as his eyes met hers.
“Hey.” He eased off the stool and strolled toward her, a pair of ocean-blue eyes pinning her to the spot. “Fuck, you look
hot.” He ran a hand over her ponytail, then dipped his head to kiss her. It was tender, chaste, his lips soft as they pressed
gently on hers. Still, it left her giddy.
“I look like I’ve been at work for twelve hours.”
His eyes crinkled. “Yeah, prim work suit, tidy hair. Like I said, hot. Makes me want to strip off this suit.” He slid his
hands across her shoulders and down her arms. “Remove your hair from the tie and just”—he bent to whisper in her ear—“rumple you.”
Oh God. Her knees buckled and she gripped his arm. “Let’s go.”
Laughter rumbled out of him. “Yeah, I love the enthusiasm, but I’ve not finished my beer yet. Let me buy you a drink.”
She didn’t want the drink, she wanted him, alone. Away from people she might know. “Okay, just a quick one.”
“Not planning quick.” The hooded look he gave her sent liquid heat rushing to her core. “Want to take my time with you, burn
the feel of you into my memory.”
He laced his fingers with hers and led her back to the bar. After ordering her a glass of red wine, he picked her up as if
she were weightless and gently placed her on the bar stool. “How was today? Still ahead?”
Her mum, her sisters, Meera—they all wanted the promotion for her, but Connor was living it with her. Encouraging her when she felt she was losing it, cheering when she had a good day. It didn’t matter that he
didn’t understand the nuances of what she did. He understood her desire to win. “Still ahead,” she confirmed. “In fact, we
generated alpha today. Alpha is—”
“When you generate returns above the benchmark.”
“You remembered.”
His gaze raked hers. “I remember everything you say to me, Livvy.”
Her breath caught in her throat. This, the soft yet smoldering looks, the talk about her work, it was too intimate for the
relationship she’d agreed to.
She opened her mouth to say something, anything, to set them back on the right track, but over his shoulder she saw a crowd
of suited guys walk into the bar—men from her office.
Including Stuart.
Fuck, fuck. F.U.C.K.
“Ah, look, Olivia’s finally made it to the bar.” Arlo, part of her team, caught her eye.
Panic slithered through her. They were bound to walk over to her. She’d have to introduce them to Connor.
“You okay?” Connor gave her arm a light squeeze. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine. I . . . we need to go.” She swallowed the rest of her wine in one long gulp.
He gave her a confused look but took his cue from her and downed the rest of his beer.
It was too late, though, because now the men were at the bar, standing next to her. And Stuart was staring at Connor like
he was a puzzle he was trying to solve.
“Connor, meet Stuart,” she said, fighting for calm. “Stuart’s one of my work colleagues.”
Connor’s gaze slid to hers for a beat, eyes widening, before he reached out to shake the hand Stuart offered.
“Hi, Connor.” Stuart didn’t hide his curiosity. “So how do you know Olivia?”
Connor looked at her, and her heart started to race; her brain felt fuzzy, like she was one wrong move away from falling off
the bar stool. “Connor’s . . . the son of a friend,” she blurted out. “He’s interested in changing careers, so I’m giving
him the finance lowdown.”
The moment she said it, she knew it was wrong. The hurt, the devastation in Connor’s beautiful eyes only served to confirm how monumentally she’d messed up.
“Oh, right.” Stuart’s gaze flicked between the two of them. “I hope she’s bigged us up.”
Connor’s jaw muscles jumped as he settled his hand in his pocket. “Oh, yes. Livvy’s told me all about you.”
Stuart snorted. “Ah, mate, first thing you need to remember is she hates her name being shortened.”
Connor gave him a fixed smile. “She doesn’t mind when I shorten it.”
Stuart looked at him quizzically, and panic slid further up her chest, constricting her lungs. “Sorry to bolt, but we were
just leaving.” She clambered off the stool and nodded to the group. “Have a great weekend, see you Monday.”
Her body felt stiff, her gait stilted as she made her way to the exit. By her side, Connor was a tower of barely controlled
fury. She was so sure-footed at work, but this . . . she’d messed up big-time. Maybe messed things up permanently.
The panic crept up her throat, threatening to strangle her.
He yanked the bar door open for her, and as she passed him, the air crackled with a tension so heavy, her legs struggled to
move.
The moment they were outside, she turned to face him. “I’m sorry.”
He gave a sharp shake of his head. “Not here.”
“Why not? I need to apologize, Connor. To make this right.”
Again he shook his head. “Wait till we get to your place.”
Her stomach churned as they made their way to the tube. Normally he’d reach for her hand, but tonight his hands remained resolutely
in his pockets. On the tube he stood protectively in front of her, shielding her with his big, muscular body, yet he didn’t touch her. It added to the sense of separation, of distance. A crack that widened with every silent step they took toward her building.
Connor’s stomach was a twisted knot of tension, frustration, and anger. Anger at himself for being stupid enough to think
he’d moved to a place with Olivia where he was more than a hookup, an occasional fuck.
Tonight had shown him not only that he wasn’t any more to her than that but that he’d never be.
They came to a halt outside her building, the joy, the anticipation of the evening, gone. Detonated by six words. Connor’s . . . the son of a friend. He’d wanted Connor’s my boyfriend. Would have been happy with Connor’s my friend. But the son of a friend?
Olivia cleared her throat. “Aren’t you coming in?”
“This is as far as I go.” He dragged in a deep breath, trying to order the words in his head so they’d come out mature, calm.
And so he wouldn’t blurt out What the fuck was that?, which was what he’d wanted to say ever since they’d stepped out of the bar. “As a barman in a club, I’ve had women grab me,
put their hands all over me,” he said, voice hoarse with emotion. “I’ve also had a woman I’d asked to marry me ridicule my
offer. But I have never felt as cheap as I did tonight.”
Her face crumpled. “That was never my intention, you have to believe me. I’m a private person. I didn’t want my work colleagues,
especially Stuart, knowing my business. When I saw them, I . . . panicked.”
Part of him could understand that, but right now it all felt too raw, too painful. “I get it, you didn’t want to introduce
me as the guy you fuck now and again, but, hell, Livvy.” Tears stung his eyes and he turned away from her, mortified by his
weakness. “I don’t like how you made me feel.”
She reached for his arm but he shifted away. If she touched him now, he’d cave, and where would that get him? A few more weeks
of being her bit on the side? Her dirty secret? A few more snatched evenings when he could wangle a night’s babysitting from
his parents until he was sent packing, collateral damage on the way to her dream promotion?
“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “I thought I could, but it turns out I want to be more than
your occasional late-night hookup.” He searched her eyes, saw she was hurting too, and went for broke. “I don’t want to have
to lie to my daughter about where I’m going. I want to meet you in daylight, have you come to my house now and again, spend
time with Ellie. I want to hold hands with you in public. Wake up with you. Meet your friends and have you meet mine.” He
dragged a hand through his hair. “Fuck, you were right. I am falling in love with you.”
Her eyes closed briefly, shielding her thoughts, and when she opened them, she turned away, teeth sinking into her lower lip.
“I don’t know what to say. I didn’t want this to happen.” When her eyes found his, he saw the shimmer of unshed tears. “I’m
devastated I hurt you.”
“Don’t be.” Don’t reach for her, don’t touch her.
“I’ll never regret you, never regret extending our time together.
” He inhaled, locking her scent into his memory.
Stay angry with her, you dumb arse. “But tonight brought it home how differently we view what’s happening between us, and I can’t do this to myself. Can’t set
myself up for any more nights like tonight.”
She looked at him sadly. “I want to say I told you so, but damn it.” Her voice wavered and she swallowed. “I didn’t want to
be right.”
“I know.” He gave her a wry smile. “I never did listen to advice.” Walk away while you still can. “So, have a nice life, or whatever it is we’re supposed to say at times like this.” He tried for light but knew the crack
in his voice gave him away. “I hope you rub Stuart’s nose in it when you get that promotion. Guy seems like a right tosser.”
“He is.” Her voice sounded strangled and a tear trailed down her cheek, telling him she was genuinely upset.
If only his own feelings could be dismissed as mildly. “Bye, Livvy.”
He turned away before he was tempted to do something stupid, like kiss her, then drop to his knees and beg to be more than
her fuck buddy.
Eyes stinging, his feet like lumps of lead, he made his way toward the tube. A stupid, optimistic part of him waited for her
to rush up behind him. Tell him she wanted more too. It didn’t happen, because Olivia Davies had loftier goals than dating
a single dad who was barely keeping his shit together coping with work and Ellie.
Ellie.
At the last minute, he diverted away from the station; the thought of sitting on a cramped tube made his gut roll. Instead,
he walked west along the river, hunching his shoulders against the cold. Maybe the air and the exercise would clear his head
enough that when he saw Ellie again, he could be the dad she needed him to be. A dad focused on her and not on the aching
hole in his chest.
The breeze from the Thames whipped around his face as he trudged along the embankment. After a quick glance at the time on
his phone, he realized she’d still be awake.
“Hi, it’s me,” he said when his mum answered his call. “Change of plan. I’ll be home tonight, so tell Ellie I’ll pick her
up.”
“Your woman ditched you, did she?”
He flinched. “Funny how you automatically assume it’s that way round.”
“You told me she was smart. A smart woman doesn’t want a guy who plays fast and loose.”
Didn’t matter his mum’s evidence came from his teens or that, since Ellie, he’d practically been a frigging monk. “I’ll be
with you about nine.”
“Ellie will be asleep by then.”
“She won’t mind me lifting her up and carrying her home. I’ve done it before.” And he needed Ellie back with him tonight.
“Fine, she’s your daughter.”
“Yes,” he replied firmly, proudly. “She is.”
My girl. He had the honor of being called Dad. Of being the person Ellie wanted when she was upset or when she’d done well or when
she was tired. He was the one who made her laugh the loudest, the one she came to for a hug.
He was her person.
It made everything else in his life, even losing Olivia, bearable.