‘Whoa, whoa.’ Connor held up his hands and laughed. He honestly didn’t care if she could kick his ass three ways to Sunday; he was just glad she was there. ‘It’s all good. I swear. I’m not a stalker. I just figured you need a little push to get you to go out with me.’
‘OK, but let’s get one thing straight. No means no with me, got it? I don’t want to be manipulated again. Are we clear?’ Her eyes spit emerald fire at him. She was honestly pissed.
Instantly, Connor was contrite. ‘Bridget, look, I apologise.’ He stepped forward and saw something he didn’t like at all flicker in her gaze, ‘Look, I was teasing. I’ll admit I would have tried to run into you again, but only because I really want to get to know you and I’m incredibly attracted to you. But I swear I’m not a psychopath. If you really don’t want to go out with me, then I promise I’ll leave you alone. Just say the word.’
She considered him for long moment, eying him with scepticism. He could hear his heart in his ears as he waited. This woman got under his skin.
Finally, she sighed and said, ‘OK. I’ll go out with you, but you’re definitely leaving your social security number and driver’s licence info with Mona after that stunt.’
‘Of course.’ He smiled, feeling relief surge through his veins. ‘I’m a man of my word.’
Picking up the basket he’d packed for them, Connor indicated for Bridget to lead the way inside the coffee shop.
She was an idiot.
She’d come to give him a piece of her mind, not to go on the picnic with him. But he’d been so sincere. And he’d been willing to give her the out. Truthfully, she’d believed he was joking all along, but one couldn’t be too sure. Her own past had taught her that trust was something earned, not given. He hadn’t earned it yet regardless of how nice he seemed.
‘I’m an idiot, aren’t I?’ she said to Mona as she sipped the apple cinnamon tea latte she’d ordered. Connor had excused himself to the restroom and she’d taken the opportunity to vent with her friend.
‘For what?’ Mona asked distractedly as she filled cream and sugar dispensers.
‘For going out with this kid,’ Bridget replied as she dropped some discarded sugar packets back into the bowl. ‘I mean, he’s got to be almost ten years younger than me. He practically extorts a date out of me, and then he goes all Boy Scout on me and I cave in.’
Mona stopped what she was doing and looked at Bridget full on. Her brown eyes seemed to pierce Bridget’s green ones.
‘Bridget, let’s be real, OK. You’re avoiding this “kid” – who looks like a full-grown man to me – because of your history and not for any other reason. I’ve seen him regularly since your date.’ She smirked at Bridget’s raised eyebrow over that remark and explained, ‘We chat when he comes in.’ She waved her hand dismissively and moved on. ‘He seems like a good guy to me and, if my observation skills are worth anything, he’s got a serious jones for you. So, he might be a bit over-eager, but you’re only an idiot if you continue to lock yourself in a glasshouse.’
‘What bee is up your petunia?’ Bridget exclaimed, a little shocked at Mona’s out-of-character tirade.
‘Nothing,’ she grumbled, though the way she was working over the counter with the cleaning rag you’d have thought it owed her money. Stopping, she turned once again to Bridget. ‘It’s just that you’ve got a guy you’re clearly attracted to actually attracted to you in return and you’re going to pass up the opportunity to see where it goes.
Knowing where this was coming from with Mona, Bridget relaxed and took her friend in a hug. She whispered, ‘I’m sorry, darlin’. Was he in here today again?’
Mona looked unhappy as she stepped back and nodded. ‘Yes, I wish he’d go somewhere else.’
Bridget’s reply was interrupted as Connor rejoined the women. Taking in the sad look on Mona’s face, he said, ‘Hey, is everything OK?’
Mona pulled a smile and said, ‘Yeah, just dumb stuff. Nothing to worry about.’
‘You want come with us?’ he asked. ‘I think Bridget might even appreciate the company.’
Bridget flushed at his words. She was clearly coming off a bit paranoid and he was being a very good sport.
Mona waved them off. ‘Thanks, but no. I’ve got a lot of work to do today. It’s bill paying day, yum!’ She pulled a sarcastic face before squeezing Connor’s arm and saying, ‘Thanks, though.’
She gave Bridget another hug and whispered, ‘See. Don’t be stupid. Go out with him.’
To Connor she said, ‘I know where you drink coffee, ya hear? Take care of my friend.’
He laughed and promised her he’d take very good care of her as he gave Bridget a long, considering look with those ash-grey eyes. Bridget felt her body go languid at the undercurrent of those words.
To her, he said, ‘Ready?’
No, not in the least. Nevertheless, she nodded and led the way out of the shop.
This spot was lovely. Connor had brought them to an old manor house that was currently vacant. Seemingly abandoned, the grounds had gone wild with flowers, trees, and shrubbery. The house itself rose up like a faded treasure from the foliage surrounding it.
It was done in the Art Deco style from the turn of the 20th century and it also used a lot of the inherent topography in its design. The stream that ran through the grounds had been incorporated into the gardens. Stone outcroppings were used as visual elements in the back garden where they were currently resting on a blanket under a gorgeous willow tree eating the sumptuous spread Connor had brought.
It was light fare, perfect for the warm late spring weather. A simple pasta salad, French bread rolls, seasonal fruit, and light sparkling wine. She couldn’t complain about his taste, that was for sure. She sipped her wine as she listened to Connor talk about his passion for this place in particular.
‘I love how the colours are so wild and varied. It’s almost like walking through a Van Gogh or a Seurat painting. Pointillism in the flesh, so to speak,’ he said as he munched on a roll and washed it down with sips of wine. ‘It’s like being in a place out of time, you know?’
She chuckled. ‘I bet you read fantasy books growing up too, didn’t you?’
‘Absolutely.’ He grinned at her. ‘I read the whole Prydain series; all the Deryni books too. I love anything to do with wizards and elves. I mean, the world can be so hard to live in. Why not lose yourself for a little bit in quests for good to vanquish evil? Or in worlds where things are simple and make sense?’
‘I agree.’ Bridget smiled. She’d done the same thing herself growing up. ‘My favourite book of all time is
‘I haven’t read that one, but I will now.’
His grey eyes bored into hers as he spoke and she had to catch her breath. He’d been catching her like that the whole time they’d been here. He hadn’t made a single move on her, but every time he looked directly at her it was as if he was stroking her body, and not like sleazy Dean Whittier. This was like a touch of silk whispering over her skin and giving her goosebumps while making her want to luxuriate in it.
‘You should. I recommend it.’ Looking away from him, Bridget picked at the blanket while trying to collect herself. Not an easy task when her nipples were hard and her core wet just from him looking at her. Searching for a new topic since clearly books were too sexy – she almost snorted – she asked, ‘Did your love of fantasy influence your artwork?’
‘Yup. Definitely.’ He dug into his backpack as he continued, ‘My favourite artist is Maxfield Parrish. He creates these amazing idealised, almost fantastical landscapes that are so full of colour and feeling, but so many are really an homage to the love of his life.’
Bridget smiled. ‘So, you’re a romantic, are you?’
He blushed a little and shrugged. ‘I don’t know about that, but I think two people who love each other is a beautiful thing. I remember my parents were always touching and kissing. I knew they loved each other as much as they loved me. My grandparents were the same way.’
Her heart clenched a little, knowing he was alone in the world now. Her own parents were still together and, despite not being the most demonstrative people in the world, it had been a loving home. She’d never doubted her worth or her place in their world.
‘I agree. Love is a beautiful thing when –’ Her words trailed off at the sight of the device Connor had pulled out of his pack. ‘What’s that?’
‘This –’ he held up the small, electronic device, which was about the same size as an iPad but clearly not
