Alone (10 page)

“Okay, sounds like fun. I think I’m just going to go to bed early then.”

“All right.” He stood, walked over to me, and kissed my cheek. Then he took a few steps towards the stairs but froze when I cleared my throat.

“I know it’s really early to turn in and I don’t know how often you need blood or anything—I’m not really in the mood for that—”

“Spit it out, Nina,” he chuckled, slowly moving back to me. His fingers traced my chin before he lifted it so I met his eyes. “There is nothing you can’t say to me so there is no reason for you to be nervous, I promise you.”

“I want you to stay,” I whispered, wincing when his eyes filled with hunger. “Yeah, but not for that. I’m sorry. I know this sounds lame, but I’m not in the mood. I feel raw and you said you want this to be real and in
real
relationships when a person feels raw they turn to the person they’re with, right? That’s you, so I’ve not done that before, but I’m willing to try it.” I let out a harsh breath and pulled away. “God, that sounds stupid. I’m sorry. Just forget it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I only made it about two steps before his strong arms encircled me. “No, it’s not
stupid
. I’m touched, and it’s a wonderful gesture I want to try with you. I’ve never done it either. We will learn together, all right?”

“Okay,” I agreed, leaning back against him. Fuck, I sucked at this stuff. Why was it so difficult when the movies always made it sound as though it was easy, a look, a touch, and everyone knew what the other meant or was on the same page?

Stupid movies.

Conall hung up his jacket, sat down on the bed to take off his boots and socks, before his jeans—folding them up and setting them on his boots, and lastly his typical white Oxford shirt that he fitted under his jacket on the same hanger. I watched all of this and glanced down at my same clothes that I was pretty sure were “active wear” from Target that I used for that
and
sleeping.

“I have no idea why you like me,” I muttered as I headed to the bathroom to take out my contacts. “I’m such a nobody slob next to you. Pain in the ass, ungrateful, whiny brat, bitching about my logo being on
boring
promo stuff that was
free
instead of thankful someone cared enough to help me for once. What is
wrong
with me?” Tears filled my eyes and that made my contacts that much harder to take out. I finally did, but when I turned around, Conall was extra blurry because of the wetness in my eyes.

“I thought of that one all day and came up with an answer if you’d like to hear it,” he offered gently as he stepped closer. I nodded as his hands moved around me, slowly taking off the fitted shirt I wore over one of the night shirts I chose instead of a real sports bra when I decided to be a bum for the day. My boobs were too big to go braless and not be uncomfortable so a little shelf bra was as far as I went.

He tossed it in the laundry basket and led me over to the bed, giving me a little boost as I climbed up into the massively too high bedframe. Yeah, I hadn’t thought that one through. I’d gotten a king-sized bed and half box springs. Then later I’d found a nice bedframe with drawers I’d liked… Never having thought than when the two were put together, I’d need a mother fucking step ladder to get into the bed.

And I was five-ten.

We crawled under the covers and Conall’s big body pressed against me as he wrapped his arms around me. “Now don’t think about what you’re going to say, simply tell me the first answers that pop into your mind, okay? We’re going to do a little word association.”

“You and your games,” I teased, loving that we had that in common.

“Keeps life interesting,” he chuckled deeply and I felt it through my back. I nodded for him to go ahead and he kissed my hair. “Why do you want your car back so badly even if it’s a lemon?”

“I bought it with my grandma.”

“What do you think of the decorating job in the front room?”

I winced but realized it was time to be honest. “That the British museum catalog threw up in there and I half expect to see Queen Elizabeth sitting in there one day when I get up for coffee but at least I might get named Lady James that way.” I felt him flinch before he buried his face in my hair and burst out laughing. “Yeah, sorry, I hate it.”

It took him several minutes to calm down, his body shaking against mine. “No, that’s okay, I’m glad I know now. At least you have an entertaining answer with such flare. I will return it all. Do you know what you want in there?”

“I do actually,” I chuckled, turning over to look at him. “Funny story. I told my mom when she helped me move in and she kept calling it my
play room
.”

His eyes just about bugged out of his head. “Please tell me she misunderstood you and didn’t realize what that meant.”

“Yes, Mom’s a little behind on the times. I caught her up, but she’s cool, shrugged it off, and told me if I want a room like that, better to put it downstairs where I want the study and put a lock on the door.”

Conall nodded, swallowing loudly. “
Do you
want a room like that? A play room?”

“I don’t know. Never played like
that
. Certainly not enough to know if I want a full room for it,” I giggled, my cheeks heating up. “But so back to the front room. I want one of those Euro couches that are comfy, but not like the overstuffed ones downstairs. More a leather sitting couch but all cool and chic. Then I want a glass high top six-seater for cards or dinner party by the fireplace. And a bar for the corner that’s by the entryway and the vaulted ceiling.”

“So you want your front room to be like a lounge?”

“Yeah. It’s too hot or cold outside to enjoy the deck, maybe the buggies are all coming out and eating people but that’s okay, let’s step into my lounge,” I explained, smiling at him.

“I like it.” He leaned in and kissed my nose. “You know, for that plan to work, you might actually have to socialize and make friends here in Nebraska.”

“Maybe. I’ve not gotten that far in the plan. I figure I have to finish unpacking and have a lounge to invite people
over
to first.” I shrugged, my social ineptness making me uncomfortable again.

“Baby steps,” he agreed. “So what color is the couch?”

“Black. I found the one I want on Costco.com.”

“And the bar?”

“There were a few I liked at Nebraska Furniture Mart but that place is about the size of Soldier’s Field so it scares me a little,” I chuckled, rolling my eyes. “Seriously, it’s like seven IKEAs put together. So I’m still open.”

“Tables?”

I shook my head. “Didn’t like any of them when I went last year. The chairs weren’t my style either.”

“Pictures?”

“Have one I brought with me, a black and white sketch of old time Chicago, one that’s a gift from my best friend. It’s a three-piece painted Chicago bridge scene and it’s perfect because it matches the first cover she ever did for me with the same background. I want to get that cover made into a poster, matte it, and frame it.”

“Why do you hate the promo I bought?”

“Because you did it without me and I love picking out promo that my fans would like, something they’ll get from
me
. It should have been something fun we could have done together, used as a chance to get to know each other right off the bat like
I
would have suggested because I wanted to get to know you, and none of the other bad stuff would ever have happened if you had actually wanted to learn who I was instead of trying to make me into who you want me to be.” I blinked at him and shut my mouth so fast I bit my lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he rasped, letting me go as I pulled away. “I deserve that.”

“I-I didn’t—” I shut my mouth again because I wasn’t going to lie and say I didn’t mean it.

Because I did. I hadn’t realized I did but now that I’d said it, my stomach was in knots… It
was
how I felt. That was why I’d been so quick to get my name and logo off that shit and I wanted it gone. It was a reminder of what had happened. What he’d made me feel. What I hadn’t had with him and for a second had been stupid enough to hope for.

“I need air,” I gasped and darted out of bed. I raced from the room, grabbed my smokes, and was out in the garage moments later. The back porch was probably better, but once the sun started setting, the more likely a person would get eaten alive back there closer to the woods.

Conall wasn’t the only living thing that liked blood outside Omaha.

I was on my fourth smoke when I heard the door to the house open.

“Do you want me to go?”

I shook my head, not turning to look at him. “Do you want to go after what I said?”

“No. I would like the chance to explain myself better if that’s at all possible and you’ll give me the chance.”

I thought about that and nodded. “Just don’t box me in. I’ll pace when I process.” Translation—I didn’t want him touching me.

“All right.” He moved up next to me but still a few feet away, only in his boxer briefs, so comfortable in just those, and I couldn’t help but smile. What would the neighbors think if they drove by?

Fuck the neighbors. He was
hot
.

“I thought I
did
know you. You were so open online with your fans. I got to know you—”

“Not really, Conall,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I don’t have much of a filter, but I don’t talk about anything
real
. I loved my dog. Telling goofy stories about him was safe. Funny conversations with my mom was safe, silly, and something I could bond with my fans about, sure, but that’s not knowing
me
. I never tell people where I went to school, besides what college. Do you know how many people have gone to the University of Illinois?

“I never talk about the people I’ve dated, where I hang out beside Target and there are lots of those. I’m vague for a reason. The number one way people can get hurt nowadays is to talk too much on social media. I’m a single woman. Look how easily
you
found me and you had the best intentions. Do you know there’s a whole sect of crazies out there who prey on single romance authors? It’s their bread and butter to ‘show’ the
whores
who write any sex in their books what they can do. We live in a scary world. I protect myself.”

“As you should. I’m
glad
you’re cautious, Nina. I wasn’t thinking everything through. I loved what you write and thought from the glimpses I got of you and your work that I knew you. It was stupid and naïve of me. You touched my heart and I felt a connection. I thought I
had
to have known you, of course I did. It wasn’t that I wanted you to be someone else or mold you into this other person. I figured you used the people you did because you’re kind and would give an underdog a chance.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” I snapped.

“I could not agree with you more, but from everything I’d read or knew of you, you also seemed to be a person who would not move on from someone when you outgrew them so you could move on to the next step in your life. You would let others hold you back if it meant sparing someone’s feelings.”

I blinked at him a moment before it was
my
turn to burst out laughing. He stared at me while I put out my cigarette and stuck out my hand. “Hi, I’m Nina James. I don’t believe we’ve met. I’ve been a published author for a little over four years and am on my
sixth
web designer—and I did it myself for a year—I’ve blown through
eleven
assistants, eight of which I think quit within a month because they realized working for an author wasn’t just all fun and games and I hate focusing on details.

“The only people I
do
keep are my cover designer because she loves me and my last self-pub editor was fine, but my editor now is
awesome,
she just doesn’t have an overinflated ego to charge some ghastly price. I give people a chance, Conall, but this is a
business
and I’m not a doormat. I may be in my personal life, but I don’t put up with much in my professional one. People fuck up—god knows I do—but there is a line and a limit and I won’t pay for work I have to do myself.”

“Oh, well, I-I—umm, called that wrong.”

“Yes, yes, you did,” I chuckled as we shook hands. “But I did like Susan. I think you nailed it on the head that I need an assistant who knows about publishing to be effective help to me. I kept looking for people who wanted to learn and get their foot in the door. That doesn’t work with someone who hates coming back to reality and just wants to write. I need someone to manage me and she knows enough to do that and not get in my way. I liked her, so thank you.”

He smiled and slowly raised my hand to his lips. “Are we okay now?”

“Yeah, we’re okay now. Let’s go back to bed.”

“And maybe tomorrow we can peruse promotional materials together because I would like to get to know you better as well.”