Reflection (The Chrysalis Series) (24 page)

Chapter Thirty-one

One month later …

‘Leave it. You’ll mess it up,’ Skyler admonished Bridget as she adjusted her hair for the millionth time.

‘I’m a mess, Sky.’ Bridget’s voice cracked audibly, reflecting the way she felt inside.

‘You’ll be fine.’ She came up beside Bridget and put an arm around her shoulders. ‘You look hot. He won’t be able to resist you.’

Bridget smiled at her young housemate. Having Skyler with her had turned out to be one of the best decisions she’d ever made. They’d grown close in the weeks since Skyler had come to live with her and it had been a joy to witness her pregnancy. In many ways, when it came to that, she was living vicariously through her former student.

Skyler was solidly into her second trimester and showing. She’d taken to pregnancy well and looked radiantly beautiful. She’d also been a comfort and a distraction from her pain over Connor. That they’d been wading through the fallout from the scandal over the dean at the university had helped to keep her mind off of him as well.

Bridget’s tenure had sailed through and Skyler’s scholarship was safe. Dean Whittier had resigned as ordered, but a full-scale investigation into all of his oversight decisions had been launched. Several improprieties had already been discovered on tenure decisions for two of Bridget’s colleagues and at least one other student had come forward with allegations of harassment.

He was officially ruined. Bridget had searched for compassion, but found that while she didn’t hate him, she didn’t forgive him either. He’d played too fast and loose with people’s lives.

‘Bridget?’

‘Hmm?’ She pulled herself back to the present.

‘What are you thinking about? You look fierce.’ Curious brown eyes met hers in the mirror.

‘I was thinking about Whittier. And –’ she turned and hugged Skyler to her ‘– how happy I am that you’re here.’

Skyler grinned and returned the hug before pulling back and turning Bridget to face the mirror once again.

‘Are you ready?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know, Sky.’ She eyed herself critically. ‘I feel so exposed.’

In truth, she felt naked. Victor, at her request, had made this outfit especially for her. She’d expected something chic and elegant, like the items of lingerie he’d designed for her. Instead, he’d given her urban and sexy.

A mix of leather and silk, the dress was sleeveless and backless. The chocolate, leather bodice was quilted and flowed into a bronze silk skirt that hugged her so tightly she was afraid she’d split a seam. Victor had assured her she wouldn’t and that it was designed to stretch, but it darn sure wasn’t designed for panties or a bra. She was completely naked under it!

Victor had even gone so far as to provide strappy, stiletto sandals and jewellery as well as instructions on how to wear her hair. She didn’t even have the option of deviating since he’d be there tonight.

The net result was that Bridget
looked
sexy and powerful yet inside felt nothing but nervous and scared.

She wanted her man back, and she was determined to get him, but she wasn’t sure he wanted to be gotten. There’d been not one word from him. No phone calls. No messages. He’d even left what few belongings of hers he’d had in her office after hours one night.

She’d cried for a long time over that discovery.

Then she’d gotten the invite to his show. He’d written on it in scrawling print, “I hope you’ll come.”

Mona, the traitor, hadn’t said a word. She hadn’t been a bit sorry about it either when Bridget had confronted her. She’d just shrugged and said, ‘He swore me to secrecy, so I guess you’ll just have to take that up with him.’

Bridget wasn’t going to. She was too happy for him. She hoped it meant that he’d put his past into perspective as she had been working to do.

It was still a work in progress for her, but between her sessions with Cathy and the reading and talking she’d been doing with other kinky folks courtesy of Evan, she’d come to accept that her desires weren’t something to be ashamed of.

She’d even had a really sweet offer from a hunky morsel of man at the munch Evan had organised just for her. The gathering of like-minded kinky folks had been a real eye-opener for her. She’d had only one embarrassing moment when Jean and Louis had shown up, but they’d quickly laughed, hugged, and moved on.

She hadn’t even truly considered the offer she’d received. Exploring kink involved deep trust and the only man she trusted at that level was Connor. Her reluctance must have shown because Evan had pulled her aside asking, ‘You OK? Is he pressuring you?’

She’d quickly reassured him that everything was fine before continuing, ‘It’s just that I don’t see how I could do any of this with a stranger.’

He’d smiled indulgently and replied, ‘I don’t personally recommend it.’

He’d laughed at her clear surprise and continued. ‘Look, of course people hook up in this life, but lots of times that takes place at play parties or dungeons where there are other people and monitors to make sure safewords are respected and everything stays safe, sane and consensual.

‘Kink doesn’t mean throwing out the rules of common sense. If anything, you probably need to be even pickier.’

Relief flooded her at his words. She definitely was not ready to jump in with just anyone. Truly, the only person she would even consider doing any of this with at this stage was Connor.

‘Have you thought about calling him?’

Bridget scowled at him. She really didn’t like feeling so exposed.

‘When it comes to Connor, you wear your heart on your sleeve, babe.’

He wrapped her in a warm hug and she drew comfort from him to fight back the tears that always hovered whenever she thought of Connor.

Pulling back, she swiped away an errant tear.

‘I think about it, but so far it hasn’t become more than a thought.’

‘Well –’ he tipped her chin up ‘– don’t wait too long. He seemed like a good guy.’

He was a good guy and she planned to do a hell of a lot more than call him tonight. She was going to claim him once and for all.

Tonight, there would be no more barriers between them.

Taking Skyler’s hand, she squeezed it.

‘You sure you’ll be OK, darlin’?’

Skyler had been struggling with her worries over being a single mom. Just that morning she’d received the papers from Whittier relinquishing all parental rights. She’d been stoic, but it had been obvious that she’d been crying when she had finally emerged from her “nap” several hours later.

‘Yeah.’ She smiled at Bridget. ‘Mom and Lenora are coming over and we’re going to head over to Ten Fingers and Toes to get me registered.’

Bridget was so happy that Skyler’s family had embraced her during this time. More than that, they’d welcomed Bridget with open arms, making her an honorary family member.

‘OK, sugar.’ She gathered the velvet wrap Victor has also provided and the small, quilted clutch. Equipped with all her feminine armour, she went to claim her man.

Without question, this was the best night of his life. Connor surveyed the crowd that had turned out to Bean There Done That and felt himself get a little choked up. He might lose his “man card” over it, but he was definitely damp-eyed. In his wildest dream, he hadn’t expected this.

Mona had pulled out all the stops once she’d viewed his collection. Especially his centrepiece for the show. She’d closed the shop today, and within hours it had been transformed from casual hangout to urban art gallery.

She’d called local contractor, Wade Stalls, who’d ensured they’d met their deadline. That interaction had been something to see. He’d never seen Mona so flustered.

Connor was feeling flustered himself. So far Bridget had been a no-show. He’d be lying to say he wasn’t severely disappointed. But, no matter the outcome, he couldn’t regret putting on this show. He’d already sold two canvases and a local art critic had promised a glowing review in the paper.

It was as if he’d come full circle. That the two ends of his life had finally fused together. For the first time in a very long time, Connor felt whole. He had his art back without shame or recrimination. He no longer needed to hide it lest his parents’ ghosts rise up to haunt him. He was sharing his art with the world and it felt right.

The only thing that could have made this night better was if Bridget had turned out to share it with him. The time they’d been apart had proven to him that he wasn’t going to get over her any time soon. He missed her deeply.

He’d wanted to do this on his own, though. He’d wanted to prove that he’d meet her halfway if she was willing to try. Now, he was kicking himself. He’d waited when he should have acted and it looked like he’d lost her.

‘Your neck is going to cramp if you keep that up. This is an art show not a tennis match.’ Victor handed Connor a flute of champagne. ‘She’s not here, but just be patient.’

‘How can you be so sure? The show started over an hour ago. You know she’s compulsively punctual.’

‘Well, everyone has an off day.’ He chuckled. ‘I’m willing to bet she’ll be here.’

Connor sipped his champagne, wishing it were something stronger. He and Vic had grown close after their first meeting. Vic had been another of Bridget’s champions who’d wanted to kick his ass in the aftermath of their break-up.

He’d threatened Connor quite eloquently when Connor had gone back to return the unused toys. By the time Connor had finished explaining, Vic was offering to buy him a beer and pretending not to notice his tears. A bond had formed that night over drinks and nachos at Lou’s, a local pool hall. They’d hung out regularly ever since.

‘You seem awfully sure of yourself.’ Connor glanced at Victor and stopped short at the smirk on his friend’s face. ‘Hold up.’ He set his glass down. ‘You know something.’

Vic held up a hand to stave off any more questions, ‘Don’t even try it. I’ve been sworn to secrecy and I never break my word.’

Connor wanted to shake the smug grin from his face. This was definitely not funny.

‘Besides –’ Vic gestured over Connor’s shoulder. ‘I just won that bet anyway.’

Connor spun and felt his jaw hit his chest at the vision Bridget made.

‘You’re catching flies, brother.’ Vic laughed and clapped him on the shoulder before moving off to embrace Bridget.

She returned the hug and whispered something in his ear. Vic, the bastard, grinned at Connor before taking her hand and kissing it.

He’d kill him for that later. Right now, he needed to get his dick to cooperate. It was joining the party and he definitely did not want to be standing in a crowd at his first art show sporting a hard-on.

Could you really blame a guy when Bridget looked like sex on legs? Every man in the house had noticed her when she walked in. He’d managed to close his mouth, but he was rooted in place. Hell, part of him just wanted to watch her walk.

The way she moved in that dress had his imagination running wild. And that was not where he needed to be. He needed to get his little head out of the equation.

Mona had obviously seen her. As had Claire. Both women came over and hugged her. Whatever words were exchanged resulted in Mona pointing in his direction.

When she finally saw him, her face transformed. She smiled radiantly. It damn near knocked him on his ass. She’d never been so completely unguarded before.

Hope, furious and hot, burned in his heart and he wrangled it down. This was not the time to get ahead of himself.

She navigated her way over to him. When she was finally within reach, he debated throwing caution to the wind and taking her in his arms, kissing her breathless, and tossing her over his shoulder and making off with her.

He settled for taking her hand and saying, ‘You look amazing.’

She flushed prettily, snorted rather inelegantly, and said, ‘I feel as if my rear end is on display for the world to see. I should give Victor a piece of my mind.’

‘Victor?’ Her words weren’t computing.

‘He designed this for me.’

She did a 360 and his jaw came perilously close to hitting his chest again. There was no way in hell she had underwear on. In that moment, he didn’t know whether to kick Vic’s ass or buy him a beer to say thank you.

‘Well, you look amazing.’

She smiled again and his heart clenched. She was definitely still under his skin.

A waiter walked by and she accepted a flute of champagne. Turning back to Connor, she waved a hand, taking in the room.

‘I’m so happy for you, Connor. I hope this doesn’t sound patronising, but I’m really proud of you.’

‘That means a lot to me, Bridg.’ He blew out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. ‘I’m really glad you came.’

Tender green eyes met his. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for anything, sugar.’

His groin tightened at all that Southern coming his way, but he commanded himself to behave.

‘Would you like the tour?’ Anticipation rolled through him like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

‘Lead on.’ She smiled.

He offered her his arm and she took it. She felt good tucked into his body. He didn’t want to let go of her.

He took her around, showing her the pieces he’d chosen for the show. Many of them she’d seen at his place. A few were new and she exclaimed excitedly over them, making him feel quite accomplished.

Their progress was slow since patrons regularly stopped Connor to ask him about his work or offer their compliments. Finally, they made it to the last piece. A crowd surrounded it. Connor politely pushed through to the front, making sure Bridget’s view was unobstructed, and waited for her response.

Bridget was stunned speechless. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight hanging in front of her.

Connor had taken the image he’d drawn at their first picnic and blown it up to life-size proportions. She gazed out from the canvas with a look in her eyes that could best be described as tortured yearning. It was as if he’d seen into her soul and put it on display.

He’d seen what she’d not wanted to acknowledge. That he’d understood what she’d refused to was evident in the painting’s title:
Yearning to be Whole
.

Tears welled in her eyes. She didn’t know what to say. She’d pushed him away and he’d been right there the whole time just waiting for her to see it. She’d been a class-A idiot.