Chapter 4 #2
Connor snorted. “I read the New York Times, not the hockey tabloids!”
“Well, then you should probably broaden your media,” Rachel remarked innocently – and his shoulders tensed.
Tara grinned. “So, question six: Which geological period comes before the Cretaceous period?”
Rachel slapped her buzzer and, along with the owls’ hoot, announced, “Jurassic.”
Shit.
“Jesus, Connor!” Izzie exclaimed, annoyed. “Aren’t lawyers supposed to be smart?”
Rachel laughed. “Connor’s probably too old. He only knows about the Triassic period when all the other dinosaurs lived.”
He looked at her, shaking his head. “Are you an amateur historian?”
“No, but I listen to a lot of podcasts.”
“Ah, because you’re so often alone in the evenings?”
She smiled sweetly and leaned forward with both hands on the desk. “Because I educate myself.”
He almost laughed. Almost.
“Oh man. Get a room or finish the quiz,” someone shouted from the back tables, and Tara snorted.
“Please, don’t get the wrong idea, Rachel,” Connor replied lightly, looking at his opponent mockingly. “I know you romantics sometimes tell yourselves this, but just because I’m mean to you doesn’t mean I’m into you. It just says you’re annoying.”
“No,” Rachel replied calmly. “It says you have a bad personality.”
“Can’t it be both?”
“No. Because I’m delightful, and you’re an asshole who profits from other people’s suffering.”
“You’re wrong about that,” he replied darkly. “I end suffering for many people.”
“Ahh… So marriage is suffering now.”
His jaw clenched as he felt her getting under his skin. With every single word. Again! Today, he had wanted to keep himself pulled together. “A bad marriage is painful, yes,” he said tensely.
“What about a perfectly functioning marriage?”
“There are no perfectly functioning marriages.”
“Goodness,” she drawled. “A cynical divorce lawyer who doesn’t believe in love, how inspiring.”
“Who says I don’t believe in love?” he asked roughly. “I just don’t believe you have to prove it with a scrap of paper. Separation without marriage is easier, and some people aren’t cut out for long-term relationships.”
“Nonsense. Humans are wired for intimate relationships. You just have to find the right one.”
“Oh, I’ve found quite a few right ones.”
“It’s about falling in love, not securing the hottest one-night stand,” she hissed.
“I know that,” he growled. “Although, God knows, you need an invigorating orgasm ASAP to make you fucking relax.”
Furious, Rachel opened her mouth, but Tara beat her to it.
“Okay, guys,” she interrupted loudly. “My question wasn’t: Who’s better at getting on your nerves? Spoiler alert: You’re both winners. We’re getting to the final, decisive question.”
Rachel bit her full lip and glared at Tara. Connor, on the other hand, fixed his gaze on the teeth Rachel was pushing into the soft flesh of her lip…
“What’s the name of that so-called sailor’s disease that occurs with acute vitamin C deficiency?”
Rachel smiled broadly and hit the buzzer.
Scurvy.
“Scurvy,” she shouted out.
“Correct! Bedtime Game Night is the winner of the night.”
Maddie cheered the loudest, closely followed by Hailey. But Rachel didn’t look back at her sister. She was still looking at Connor, straight into his eyes. There was a silent challenge in them.
What did she expect him to do? Get angry over a little game? No. He might get angry, but only over things that meant something.
For a second, he gave her a blank look, and then he lifted one corner of his mouth and held out his hand. “Well played,” he summarized crisply.
This was merely a quiz, and yes, Rachel was smart and knew a hell of a lot. She deserved to win. But if he got upset now, Rachel would win a whole different battle. And he wasn't going to grant her that. Besides, he wasn’t angry at her, he was angry at himself.
Had he seriously lost focus because she…because she…
“Um, thanks,” she said, perplexed, and hesitantly took his hand.
He didn’t give the warmth of her skin time to transfer to his. He didn’t want to give her any more opportunities to get on his last nerve. It was already far too easy for her. So, he swiftly dropped his hand, nodded to her, and walked back to his team, who would surely be sympathetic.
“Why didn’t you buzz in faster, Con?” Izzie asked, groaning. “You knew that last one. You’ve compared marriage to scurvy countless times. You know, like because it’s unnecessary, easily avoidable, and completely outdated!”
Oh, yes, and the comparison still applied.
Nevertheless, he couldn’t tell Izzie why he’d been so slow.
He’d been…distracted. Distracted by the lips of a woman he disliked as much as the sound of his alarm clock.
But, shit, he’d never admit that. “Guess I’m just tired today,” he said with a shrug.
“Whatever.” He smiled at his date, Alice. “Did you at least have fun?”
“Oh, yeah. It was fun.” She nodded, but her smile was a little shaky.
No, it wasn’t going to work out between them. Still, he offered, “Should I take you home?” It was the least he could do.
“I’d love that. I just need to use the restroom.”
“I’ll wait outside.”
He longed for some fresh air. It had gotten too hot and stuffy in here. Shit, why did she have to be so damn smart? Wasn’t it enough that she was way too attractive and gave him dirty ideas?
Alice. He was talking about Alice, of course.
Gareth, Izzie, and Cian remained behind.
Ada had a friend over and said it would be less awkward at home without her dad, which Cian didn’t need to be told twice.
Gareth and Izzie were absolute night owls and didn’t need a reason to go to bed late.
So, Connor leaned against the wall next to the entrance of the Sunny Umbrella.
He was alone with the sea and the cool air, which didn’t banish the tingling in his palm from the handshake.
“Sorry, things got a little heated at the end.” A soft, high-pitched laugh rang out, sending hot and cold shivers down his spine.
He looked up and saw Rachel step through the doorway. She had Dream Man Number One in tow, smiling shallowly. “Oh yeah, you seem very ambitious.”
“Sometimes,” she said, frowning, as if it was something she needed to apologize for.
Her date laughed nervously. “A little more than sometimes.”
Connor raised his eyebrows. That sounded accusatory. Man, he was a bigger jerk than he imagined.
“Yeah, maybe,” she said, surprised. “Um, did you have fun?”
“Oh, yeah. Your friends are nice. Just like you.”
“Thanks. You were rather quiet. I was a little worried it was too much for you.”
“No, no!” He waved it off. “It was fine. Well, I barely got a word in edgewise. You…didn’t talk to me that much.”
She shrugged. “Well, I wanted to win the game. You’re right, I could have spent more time with you, but Con…
” She trailed off as Connor rested his head against the stone wall behind him.
Had she just been about to say his name, as if it were his fault?
And why was she defending herself for wanting to win?
She cleared her throat. “Sorry.”
Connor gritted his teeth. She was actually apologizing just to make the jerk feel better.
“No problem.” He nodded.
“So, would you like to meet again?” she asked hesitantly.
Shaking his head, Connor stared at the back of her head. Why would she want to see this guy again, this guy who was bothered by her being ambitious? How could she believe there was even a spark of hope for them as a couple if he didn’t like what made her special?
The man cleared his throat. “Look. I think you’re really nice. This was fun, but… I’m sorry, but you’re a little intimidating.”
What. The. Fuck.
“I’m what?” Rachel asked, perplexed.
“Well, you’re smart, confident, and loud, and also relatively tall. I think I’m more comfortable with women who are a little more like me. Do you understand?”
“Um, okay,” Rachel replied slowly…but Connor did not understand. She’d had no problem calling him an idiot! And he wasn’t the one saying he’d rather date someone quite as strong. What was wrong with him? And what the hell was wrong with her?
“Yeah, thanks anyway. See you later.” The man raised his hand and disappeared down the promenade.
Rachel paused for a few seconds, and Connor hoped she’d run after the guy and slap him. But she did nothing of the sort. She tucked her dark brown hair behind her ears, sighed heavily, and turned back down the sidewalk.
Connor almost hoped she wouldn’t notice him, but that would mean he believed in the impossible; he was standing directly in her line of sight…and she abruptly saw him and dropped her hands.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Eavesdropping,” he said calmly, pushing off the wall.
“I can see that,” she replied angrily.
“It was accidental.”
“Sure,” she replied coolly, approaching him.
“Ah, you’d better not come any closer. You’re so intimidating, I might start shaking.”
He could swear she wanted to smile, but it was dark and the thought absurd.
“But you were right,” he continued. “Match Me! obviously finds just the right guys…to make me laugh. Is that your goal? Then I misjudged you.”
She rolled her eyes and turned her face away. “You’re just in a bad mood because you lost. And your date is just as hopeless as mine was!”
“Excuse me?” he asked, perplexed.
"I’ve been watching you. The jogger is too jumpy for you.
She’s super nice and probably pretty smart; I’d have to actually have a conversation with her for a more detailed evaluation, but she flinched several times tonight when you were getting a little heated.
You’d never get into a relationship with her because the chance of hurting her is too high. ”
The muscles in his neck tensed. Yes, Rachel was definitely too intelligent. “Ah, and I thought, because of my profession, I'm supposed to enjoy hurting others.”
She tilted her head as if seriously considering his words before concluding, “No. I think I’ve got you figured out now.”
He laughed. “Really?”
“Yes. It took me a while because your initial outburst was ambivalent, but I think I’ve got it now.”
He took a step toward her because he knew she wouldn’t back down. “Enlighten me.”
“You’re the oldest of…um…four kids?”
His jaw tensed, but he said nothing.
“There must be at least two because you say you always win, but you’re not a sore loser. That means you have younger siblings who you probably let win half your life so they wouldn’t be sad.”
Fuck. His stomach clenched. Because, yes. Always. Mallory hadn’t cared when Connor won, but Alec and Allie always started crying when they lost at Sorry. They hadn’t taken the game’s title seriously enough.
“You’re principled. You look for structure and create it with plans.
Maybe because you didn’t have any growing up?
” She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t wait for an answer.
“Your siblings don’t live nearby. You get along well, but you had to do your own thing because you couldn’t…
you just couldn't be your own boss for so long. Your own freedom is important to you. More important than any woman you’ve ever been with. ”
His mouth went dry, but he continued to meet her gaze.
“You’re not nice because, in your experience, nice has never been useful. Oh, and your parents are divorced.”
A heavy, cold silence enveloped them, broken only by the sound of the sea.
“Is that it?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“Hm.” He nodded stiffly. “Okay. Not bad. Nine out of ten,” he said tonelessly.
“What did I get wrong?”
“My parents were together until the end. Until my dad died.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
Yeah, he was sorry too, that they’d stayed together until the end.
Even though he was sure that wasn’t what Rachel meant by her apology.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he replied sharply, letting his gaze wander slowly over her oval face.
Her cheeks were flushed, either from the heat or the wind. “But, yes, the rest is correct.”
She smiled. “Does that surprise you?”
“No. I'm…confused.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t get it. If you’re such a good psychologist with such a good understanding of human nature…
” His toes brushed against hers, and he looked her straight in the eyes.
He wanted, needed, to understand her. She was so much more dangerous because she never did or said what he expected.
“Why didn’t you realize that the guy who found you too intimidating was an asshole?
He matched with you about as well as oranges go with chocolate? ”
Blinking, she looked at him. “He wasn’t an asshole. And oranges combined with chocolate are delicious.”
“You’re wrong about both,” he murmured urgently, bending down to catch a glimpse of her face.
She smelled of mint and something sweet.
He hated that he knew that now. “Oranges are good for fighting scurvy, but not good for anything else. And the guy made you feel bad about being smart, ambitious, and tall. Like you should be ashamed of that. Good Lord. Why would you ever have to justify being too strong and smart to someone? Batman doesn’t do that.
Why the hell should that be your problem?
He sounded like an asshole to me, no matter how friendly his tone.
You should know that, since you seem to be an expert at determining who’s an asshole and who isn’t. ”
Her eyes widened and the same incomprehension that filled him was reflected in her expression.
Good. At least he wasn’t the only overwhelmed party.
“See you around, Rachel,” he said quietly, walking backwards a step and then turning around.
Distance. Distance sounded good. Distance until he could think clearly again.