7. Chapter 7
Grace
“So your mom says you’re a great cook,” Peter said, pouring himself a second glass of wine and waving the bottle at me, as if to offer to top mine off as well. I nodded. I may as well let him fill it up again. I would need all the liquid assistance I could get to make Peter seem interesting.
My mom knew I was a terrible cook—it was one of her complaints because I refused to take a cooking class and learn to make me more eligible or something. Why would she tell him I was anything but? I took a gulp of wine to swallow the annoyance.
“Sure,” I said. “If you like boxed spaghetti and baked chicken. How do you feel about grilled cheese?”
Peter squinted before he lifted both brows and took a quick sip of his wine. He replaced the look on his face with the same practiced composure he’d worn all evening. “Well, maybe we could take a cooking class together or something.”
“That’s not really my thing,” I said, taking a bite of mashed potatoes. I swallowed and met his look of half-concealed judgment. “But yeah, maybe,” I added before I took another drink of wine and sat back. Peter looked satisfied with that answer, and distaste swirled in my core.
“So what do you do?” he asked. In his defense, he was trying far harder to carry the conversation than me. I thought he might have given up by now. A girl could hope.
“I’m a nurse.”
He scrunched his nose before fixing the expression on his face quickly. “Oh cool, cool. So you want to be a doctor some day?”
“No, not really,” I said. I was perfectly happy as a nurse. I got to take care of people without the pressure of operating on anyone.
“Gotcha,” he said, pausing to take a slow sip of wine that seemed to drag on longer than necessary. “Well, I’m the CEO of my father’s company. If you ever get bored of being a nurse, you could always come work for me.”
When the bell over the front door rang, I looked up, and the bite of potatoes I took stuck in my throat when Connor walked in.
He walked up to the counter, saying something to the hostess before he stepped back, scanning the room while she walked away.
“Yeah, uh, maybe,” I said, unable to pull my eyes from him, especially when his gaze landed on me.
Connor cocked his head to the side and smirked before he started to cross the restaurant.
My stomach sank when he stepped up next to the table, but at the same time, the butterflies in my chest raced toward my throat. I was happy to see him, but I didn’t want him to see me with Peter. How would I explain that?
“What are you doing here?” I asked. Peter looked at him, twisting his face in confusion.
“I’m just picking up some dinner.” Connor pointed toward the hostess stand. “What are you doing here?” he asked, looking between me and Peter.
I pointed to the barely eaten plate of steak and potatoes in front of me.
“We’re just having some dinner.” Across from me, Peter looked more confused by the minute.
His brows narrowed, and his nose scrunched, like he was working overtime to figure out who Connor was and what he was doing interrupting our less-than-enjoyable date.
“Uh, hello,” Peter said, finally breaking his silence. “Peter Kennedy. CEO of Fastway. And you are?”
“Connor Murphy.” Connor shook his hand with an overly excited smirk. “Unfortunately for you, Peter, I’m the man here to ruin your date.”
Peter looked taken aback, but he straightened his spine like some sort of self-declared alpha male preparing for a battle. “Excuse me?” he said. His voice was lower now.
“Connor, stop it,” I said, standing. I put my hand on his chest and gave him a small nudge backward. “You don’t have any right to do this.”
“Yeah, Connor,” Peter added, with confidence he had no right to feel. “You should listen to her. She’s already a little bit busy with her date.”
I put my finger up, stopping him. “Don’t get cocky here,” I said. “It’s not like this date is going well. Let’s be honest. I’m not dating anyone.” I confidently took a gulp of my wine, hoping they didn’t see my hands shake.
“You will be after tonight.” Connor lifted a single brow, and his golden eyes darkened in a way that created a growing warmth in my core. As much as I wanted to feel his mouth on mine and let him put his hands on me, I pushed aside the urge.
“Oh is that so?” As much as his statement filled my stomach with butterflies, he didn’t know me well enough to say that.
Connor put his hands on the back of the chair and leaned forward. “Yes.”
“And what makes you so sure?” I stretched upward toward him, matching his confidence, even when he smirked.
“The fact that I’m taking you on our second date right now. Grab your purse.” He held his hand out to help me up.
I just stared at him. “What?”
“Don’t make me say it twice, Grace,” he warned, narrowing his eyes. The way they flickered, I wanted to make him say it again, just to see what would happen. Instead, I nodded and reached for my purse.
“Seriously?” Peter interrupted, reaching out to grab my wrist. He stood with me.
“Sorry,” I shrugged, pulling my arm away from him. “It was, uh, nice to meet you, but I think we both knew this wasn’t going to work out.”
“I can’t believe you did that,” I said, my voice breaking with an amused giggle. Connor pulled out of the parking lot and onto the less-than-busy street.
“Can’t you?” His golden eyes glowed in the dark car when he gave me a side glance. His jawline cast a shadow on his neck that dared me to bury my face in the sensitive space beneath his ear, just to breathe him in. What about him made me crave him like this?
“It was really rude,” I said, trying to convince the butterflies in my stomach to calm down.
He lifted a single brow and snickered, and when he turned, his hands tightened on the steering wheel.
I watched the muscles in his forearm ripple and almost forgot what we were talking about.
“Yet, you came with me anyway,” Connor said, reminding me.
I looked down at the seatbelt over my lap, as if to confirm what he said.
“Yes, and?” I didn’t know if coming with him was the right thing to do, but I couldn’t deny my instincts were to listen to him.
“Why is that?” he asked. His voice was gentler but didn’t lack any of the bold confidence I assumed he had all the time—he seemed like the kind of guy who was able to talk his way into getting what he wanted his whole life.
“I said it was rude, not that you shouldn’t have done it.” I shrugged. “You intrigue me.”
“Is that so?” The cockiness on his face was enough to almost make me regret saying it.
“Don’t start getting full of yourself.” I rolled my eyes, as if my entire body couldn’t feel his stare. His gaze traced my face and landed on the neckline of my dress where the strand of pearls I wore rested on my collarbone. Instinctively, I brought my fingers to the necklace.
“Why not? I bet this date is already going better than yours was with Mr. Fastway back there. Pretty Boy didn’t have a chance at holding your attention.” Connor cackled at his own joke. He wasn’t wrong.
I turned in my seat to half-face him. “What makes you say that?”
“The way you haven’t stopped smiling since you stood up, even when you didn’t want me to see it.
But your eyes smile too, not just your lips or the little blush on your cheeks.
Your eyes light up.” He looked back at the road while he described me as if he saw me differently.
As if he’d known me longer than a few days.
“You want to be here. I intrigue you. You said so yourself. You wanted to listen to me—to see what happened when you gave in and let me tell you what to do. You liked being rescued from whatever that was back there.”
My voice caught my throat, and I cleared it quietly. “You don’t know that.” How dare he make a probably correct assumption?
“I do.” He leaned over and lowered his voice, his eyes drawn back to my necklace. He ran the back of his hand over the strand, and I’m pretty sure each pearl shivered. “It’s okay, little pearl. I think I might like you too.”
When he pulled into a dark parking lot and put the car in park, I looked around.
There were only a few other cars, and there weren’t more than one or two streetlights.
It was the kind of parking lot I’d avoid even in the daytime, the kind that was tucked behind the building with shadows people warn you about, so when Connor turned off the car, I furrowed my brow. “This is where we’re going?”
“Yes.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out, quickly rounding the front and opening my door. “I think you’re going to like it. Let’s go.”
“What is this place?” I asked, taking his hand and sliding out of the passenger seat. He didn’t let go when he closed the door, locking it before he dropped my hand to wrap his arm around me.
“Don’t ask so many questions, huh?” he chuckled. “Just trust me.”
We crossed the parking lot and entered through the back door just off a small, dark alleyway.
There wasn’t anyone inside the door, and Connor tightened his arm around me, leading me off to the right and down the hall.
It looked like we were in a basement of some sort.
Industrial pipes framed the ceiling above us, and the walls were simply painted cinderblocks. “Where are we?”
“What did I say?” He laughed, dipping around the corner and leading us through a curtain into a darker stairway. My heart started to pound against my ribcage.
“I’m not even sure what we’re doing is completely legal.” I bit back a smile, following him up the stairs to another door.
“We’re fine,” he said, looking back over his shoulder to wink before he opened the door just enough to peer through it. As soon as he did, I could hear the hum of the crowd on the other side, and with the volume, my curiosity grew thicker. I tried to look around him. “Okay, ready? Let’s go.”