Missed Connections: Stepping Out (9 page)

“I don’t know if you and Conlan will still be together past the weekend, but I like you, Gwen. I’d like to consider you a friend.”

“I’d like that too.” She glanced at Lisa’s belly. “Do you know the sex yet?”

“No. I wanted to be surprised. But I can tell you if it’s a boy, he sure as hell won’t be named Aaron.”

“Good call.”

They laughed.

“Now, since you seem to be feeling better, how about giving me some tips about your brother? He’s a little arrogant. Totally handsome and smart, but that ego. Could be taken down a peg.”

“I know, right?” Lisa huffed. “Do you know, he’s got this weird phobia about spiders. And once, a few years ago, he nearly fought this guy who took his advice the wrong way and lost his girlfriend. Oh my God. The trouble that boy got into…”

Gwen sat back and listened. And laughed. And fell a little harder for Conlan Dawson, despite herself.

Chapter Seven

Conlan had a serious case of aggravation going on when he rang Gwen’s doorbell Friday night. His sister had read him the riot act for talking to Aaron, involving himself in her life when he had no business doing so. Then she burst into tears, sang Gwen’s praises as if the woman should be canonized for sainthood, then told him if he let her go, he was as big a fool as Lisa had been about Aaron.

He didn’t comment further on her intentions with her ex. Conlan had learned his lesson. That Lisa was still talking to him gave him hope she’d quickly forgive him. Lisa in a mad bothered the hell out of him, because she looked at him with those wounded puppy eyes and made him feel like a first-class heel.

He still pondered the fact that she and Gwen had had a serious sit-down. Gwen, she’d said, was over her ex. Time to pounce and keep her before some other man saw how pretty, smart, and compassionate she was.

He had his doubts on compassionate, but gorgeous and intelligent, hell, yeah.

Gwen answered her door in jeans and a Ducks sweatshirt. Obviously dressed for the occasion. He’d worn a Beavers sweatshirt and jeans, with a button-down underneath.

Spotting his collar outside his sweatshirt, she smirked. “Oh look, our rival football team. Only losers wear orange, Mr. Dawson.”

God, that snark made him so hard. “Well, Chatty Cathy, only leprechauns wear green. And you don’t look all that Irish to me.”

She swallowed. “Talked to Lisa, huh?”

“Yeah. Thanks for outing me.” He turned on his heel and booked back to the car, wanting to see if she fell for his outraged act.

She must have, because she slammed the door and hurried after him, apologizing. “I’m so sorry. She caught me off guard. She tracked me down. I was at the station doing that news bit.”

“I heard it went well,” he grudgingly admitted and held the door for her. Actually, he’d heard that some smokin’ hot local advice columnist was going to be the next Ann Landers, hopefully with a pinup calendar.

She scrambled inside, still talking. He bit back a smile and sat next to her, just listening.

“She told me you’d talked. I had no idea she meant you’d told her about Aaron and Mia and that post. I thought you’d told her about your meeting with him. And well, it all came out. But she’s so sweet. She wants to dump him, she just needs time, and for people to stop pressuring her.” She smacked him in the leg. “Show a little faith. She’ll do what she has to for herself and the baby. Where’s your compassion?”

“Why are you hitting me?” He blinked. “Or is this you being angry and then using me for sex? Like I did in the kitchen?” He put his arms behind his head. “I’m all yours. I swear.”

“Shut up.” She poked him in the belly and tried to hide her laughter.

“Ha. I see that smile.”

“You’re such a goof. No way you sold half a million copies of some literary crap.”

He smirked at her, pleased she’d looked him up. “Yeah? Well, no way someone who dresses like a half-drunk freshman tailgater has a blog so big she makes a lucrative living off it and has the local news station wanting to give her her own talk show.”

She opened her mouth and closed it.

“Oh yeah. You have screen presence. Wait until they see us together. I mean, I’m totally handsome, especially on camera. Have you seen my cover photo?”

She crossed her eyes at him, and he chuckled. “We’re going to make magic on TV. Same as on our new column.” He handed her the day’s paper. “Did you read my advice today?”

“No. I meant to, but I was so busy with work I forgot.” She scanned it and went pale.

He started the car. “Read it out loud.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then read,
“Dear Con. I have a problem. I met this mouthy chick who really turns me on. Our sexual chemistry is off the charts, and she’s everything I’d look for in a woman. Even her attitude gets me hot. But we just met. How soon is too soon to tell her how I feel? I don’t want to freak her out or anything. Or am I mistaking our new relationship and the excitement that comes with that for love? But, dude, she has a tramp stamp. I’m really gone for her. Signed, Hot for Stamp.”

She paused.

He grinned. “Thought that was me talking about you, didn’t you?”

“I did not.”

Her quick reply told him the exact opposite. “Yeah, it was all me and you. Except for the tramp stamp. I didn’t miss that, did I?”

A glance showed she blushed.

“No. I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo but could never settle on anything I’d have forever.”

He nodded. “Commitment issues. I get it.”

“No, dumbass. You don’t.”

Her annoyance had its familiar effect—he was hard and aching. Always aroused by her scent, her nearness. He’d never in his thirty-one years felt this for anyone. Then to hear what she’d said to Lisa, how loving and sympathetic she’d been to a total stranger…

He’d thought he was above the cliché of falling in love at first sight. But this true picture of Gwen, not the haughty woman trying to pick up Aaron, but the genuine woman afraid of getting hurt, so giving she tried to help others through life… That was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He just had to show her he was in it for the long haul.

“I’ve got nothing but time,” he murmured.

“What?”

“Again, commitment issues.”

“No. I’m over Perry.” She sounded proud yet surprised to hear herself say it. “I’m ready for a relationship—with the
right
man. That’s the key.”

“No need to beg, Gwen. I’m
right
here.” He chuckled at the finger she shot him. “Why don’t you read my advice to Mr. Hot for Stamp.”

Frowning at him, she muttered an okay and read.

“Out loud.”

She grunted at him. If she’d been wearing her glasses, he would have pulled the car over and made love to her on the spot. Instead, she read while he pulled into the diner’s parking lot.

“Dear Hot for Stamp, It’s hard to quantify feelings with time. Love can’t be measured. You either feel it or you don’t. True, endorphins rush with sex, potentially confusing desire for affection. New intimacy and new experiences are exciting. You haven’t yet hit that period in your relationship where you leave the door to the bathroom open. Where you see her morning face, or she sees the real state of your house when you’re done being on your best behavior.

“But outside bed, how do you feel? Does just the sight of her make your heart race? Do you like watching her do the simplest tasks? Does the sound of her voice feel like home?”
Gwen paused.

He parked the car and looked at her. Her blue eyes seemed impossibly big. He saw hope, vulnerability, caution. Then a shutter came over them, and she glanced back down at the paper.

“Finish,” he said softly and put his arm over the back of her seat, resting his hand on her shoulder.

She gave a small jump but continued to read.
“Love has nothing but time. There’s no rush to announce you want to father her children. If you love her, the rest will come. Enjoy your date nights. Let her win at bowling if it’ll get you some quality sack time later.”
Gwen frowned at him. “Nice, Conlan.”

“Keep going. You’re almost done.”

“Whatever you do, don’t let fear rule your decisions. Enjoy what you have while you have it. Don’t take her for granted, and compliment her on how sexy she looks in her rose-print dress when you get the chance. (Okay, that was to my friend, but still. Compliments given with a pure heart mean more than gifts ever can.)

“So if you fall in love in an hour, a day, or ten years, revel in the feeling. But whatever you do, don’t get matching tattoos or her name inked on your body. That’s the sure kiss of death to any relationship. Signed, Con.”
Gwen sat there, not looking at him.

“It’s good, right?”

She turned to watch him with a hunted expression that gratified. The woman might not want to admit it, but she was taking him very seriously.

“Not bad. I agree a hundred percent on the name tattoo. Nine out of ten times, it fails.”

“I know.”

“And the rest. Well, it was beautiful.” She cleared her throat and put the paper down. “For a guy, it was downright amazing.”

“Excuse me, but I have a lot of insight I’m willing to share. With my lesser companion from the
Bend Voice
, that is,” he added in a snooty tone.

She snorted and sounded relieved. “Typical. I was wondering when your arrogance would return.”

“Yeah, well. I’m back, baby. Now let’s go wish Trent congratulations for not going belly-up in the food biz.”

“A miracle in itself.”

They walked in together to a crowded place, filled with many of their friends. Conlan was surprised to see so many people both he and Gwen knew.

“How is it we never met before?” he asked an hour later.

She shrugged. “Odd. I know almost everyone here.”

“Me too.”

“I guess I don’t get out as much as you.”

“Please. I’m a hermit when I’m on deadline.” He saw her answering grin. “You get me, don’t you, Gwen Wilcox?”

“I think I do, Conlan Dawson.” She put her arm through the crook in his elbow, just as her cousin joined them with Trent following.

“Hey, you two.” Mia beamed. “Isn’t this great? Trent’s doing so well. I’m proud of you, babe,” she said and kissed him on the cheek.

Trent smiled. “Thanks. And thank you, guys, for coming.” He gave Gwen a pretend leer and a wolf whistle. “Gwen, you rocked it last night on the news. I mean, awesome presentation. That dress looks worlds better on you than it ever did on Mia.”

“Hey.” Mia glared at him. “True, but you’re not supposed to admit it.”

Being near so many happy couples and for once not feeling out of place, Conlan hugged Gwen to him and continued the conversation, a part of a bigger whole. A community of friends and family—he noted Lisa and a few of her friends in the corner table. Of Aaron, he saw no sign.

“I can’t believe we’re still here.” Trent grinned. “Knock on wood, we’re showing no signs of getting less busy. I was just talking to Mia about opening up a sister shop on the east side.”

“Just don’t close this one down.” Gwen cuddled with Conlan, a perfect fit in his arms. “I live for your clam chowder.”

Conlan cleared his throat. “You know, Gwen, you should start inviting me over for dinner. I need to eat too.”

“Yeah, you’re just wasting away,” Mia teased. She gave him and Gwen a speculative look. “So you two. Are you officially dating now or what?”

He pulled away to see Gwen’s expression. He couldn’t read her, but apparently Mia could, because the woman wore a wide grin.

A good sign. “Well, Mia,” he answered. “I don’t know if you could call us a couple. Gwen’s pretty much just using me for my body and my connections at the paper.”

She turned on him so fast he was surprised she didn’t give herself whiplash. “What did you say?”

“Oh boy. Now you’re in for it,” Trent murmured. “Mia, time to mingle again.”

They drifted away, and Gwen poked him in the chest. “I cannot believe you said that.”

“What? I was trying to save you some embarrassment.”

“In what universe?”

His patronizing smile set her blue eyes blazing. “Gwen, honey, we both know how you feel about me.”

“Exactly how do I feel?”

He leaned closer to whisper, “Like heaven in my arms. I want you so much right now, I can barely breathe.”

She blinked, then slowly looked down his body until she came to his crotch.

“Yeah, I’m yanking your chain on purpose. You forgot the bag with the chocolate and whipped cream. But I have more at home. How about we ditch this place and go explore? You can apologize properly for throwing me under the bus with not only my sister but your cousin and Trent too.” He leaned close and kissed her in front of everyone.

Not that anyone was watching them in particular, but there could be no mistaking the possession in his embrace. He pulled away, satisfied by the glazed expression on her face.

“C-Conlan?” She gripped his forearms.

“We have a lot we haven’t done yet. But I’m not sure I can commit that kind of attention to anyone but my girlfriend.” He raised a brow, leaving the answer in her court.

She swallowed. “Girlfriend? As in exclusive relationship rights?”

“Yep. You know my policy on cheating.”

She seemed to relax, her expression almost wondering as she watched him. “Yeah. Just like mine.”

“We share a lot of common interests. Writing, fidelity, loyalty, family…” He whispered, “And we love fucking until we can’t move.”

She shivered.

He smiled. “So what’s it gonna be, girlfriend?”

After a moment of staring into his eyes, she put her finger on his lip, and he kissed it.

“I think my boyfriend and I should go home for some alone time. And whipped cream.”

“And hot fudge.”

They said their good-byes and drove back to his place in record time. Instead of going from zero to sixty with her and fucking in the foyer—and boy, did he want to go there—he pushed her against the hall door and kept her there.

“This is how tonight is going down.”

“Going down. Funny.”

He didn’t smile, and her grin faded. “Conlan?”

“We’re going to do all the things I’ve been dreaming about doing to you since I laid eyes on you. My cock in your mouth, your ass, your pussy. You coming all over me, getting me so wet, and me licking you up. But we’re taking this slow. I have all night to play with you. And as much time as I need to show you it can be this good all the time. If we let it,” he said softly.