His sister beamed at him. “See, big brother, you’re not so clueless, after all. Pack a picnic lunch. In fact, I’ll have that done for you at the inn. Then you can go by, pick up Heather and take her to the beach for the afternoon. Let Bridget deal with little Mick. Make the afternoon all about Heather.” Her gaze held his. “And whatever you do, do not bring up marriage or your hurt feelings or this deal you made with God.”
“Got it,” he said. “Anything else?”
Jess’s expression turned dreamy. “Just treat her as if she’s the most special person in your life.”
Connor figured that wouldn’t be that difficult, because she was. Always had been.
Jess stood, then leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t mess this up,” she warned. “Aye-aye, boss.”
“Mock me all you want, but I’m your secret weapon.”
“How so?”
“I’m female. I know how I’d want a man to court me. I’ll coach you through this, one date at a time.”
Connor thought she was overly optimistic, but what did he have to lose? If Jess’s methods got him and Heather talking again, it would be a start, a step in the right direction. Worst-case scenario, if these tactics didn’t work for him, he could pass all the tips along to Will, and maybe his equally clueless friend could finally break the stalemate he seemed to be having with Jess herself.
* * *
Heather had thought that being home would cure her gloomy mood, but the truth was that her apartment suddenly seemed too small with her mother living there, too. Heather had made one futile attempt to go downstairs to her shop, but had had to give it up. Standing on crutches at the top of the steps had been too daunting. As unsteady as she was with that ungainly cast, she’d feared tumbling straight to the bottom. She’d vowed to try to work up the nerve another time.
She’d had plenty of company the past few days, but even that had grown tiresome. Truthfully, she thought, there was probably nothing that would improve her mood, not even winning the lottery or being miraculously cured overnight. The problem wasn’t really being incapacitated, it was knowing that things were actually over with Connor. His silence since her release from the hospital spoke volumes. And, if she hadn’t gotten the message from that, there was the fact that every other O’Brien except Connor had been by to pick up little Mick.
Only now could she admit that even after leaving Connor, she’d harbored a hope that they’d find their way back to each other. Ironically, he’d finally offered her everything she’d always wanted, but only because he was paying back a debt he felt he owed to God. That was no better way to start a marriage than if one person was dragged to the altar unwillingly.
She’d been in such a foul mood just thinking about their last encounter that her mother had actually taken little Mick downstairs to the store with her.
“If you want to sit up here and stew, that’s fine,” Bridget had said. “Just don’t let your little boy see you acting this way. You don’t want to change the way he feels about his daddy. Kids pick up on moods, you know.”
“You mean the way I always sensed the tension between you and Dad,” Heather had retorted.
Her mother had looked taken aback by that. Without saying a word, she’d gathered up Mick, his toys and his snacks and walked out of the apartment.
When someone tapped on the door, then opened it without waiting for a response, Heather scowled as she looked toward the intruder. Then her heart rate bumped up as she realized it was Connor. Then her scowl only deepened.
“Did you hear me invite you in?” she asked, not even trying to hide her irritation.
Connor smiled, clearly undeterred. “No, but then I didn’t want to take a chance that you wouldn’t. Your mother gave me her key.”
“Since when are you and my mother in cahoots?”
“I’m guessing it’s since you apparently got on her last nerve this morning. What’s going on over here?”
“See how cheerful you’d be if you were confined to this place day after day,” she retorted.
He made an unsuccessful attempt to fight a smile. “Gee, and you’ve been home for what? Three days?”
“Four,” she snapped.
He laughed at that. “Sorry. My mistake. It does seem, though, that I’ve come by just in time to save you from this self-imposed confinement. Who’d have thought that a few measly little stairs would be too daunting for you to tackle?”
“It’s not the stairs,” she retorted. “At least not entirely. It’s the stairs combined with the way I feel on these crutches and with this stupid cast, which must weigh a thousand pounds.”
“It doesn’t,” he assured her. “How are you going to get used to it if you don’t practice?”
“I did practice before I left the hospital, but that was on flat surfaces. Those stairs out there look like a death trap to me.”
“So, like I said, I’m just in time.”
“In time for what?” she asked suspiciously.
“To rescue you.”
For some reason the response made her see red. “You did not just say that,” she said. “Since when have I ever needed to be rescued?”
“By your own calculations, since four days ago,” he taunted.
She was about to snap out a particularly nasty expletive or two, but he waved a finger at her. “Remember, you have a son. You don’t want to get in the habit of saying bad words in front of him. Otherwise, we’ll spend all our time trying to explain why our kid has a potty mouth.”
Even though she was beyond annoyed, even though she wanted desperately to stay mad at him, Heather couldn’t help chuckling. “You have a point. He’s just starting to mimic everything I say.”
“Well, there you go.” He met her gaze. “So, how about it? Care to go out with me?”
She thought
