“I will never forget you, Scarlett,” he says, voice full of conviction. “I know I haven’t done a good job of proving it, but you can trust me on that. It’s impossible for me to forget you when you’re the reason I breathe. And I know I’m the last personyou want to trust right now, but I’m going to change that as well.”
“We’ll see,” is all I say.
“Do you always have to give me a hard time?”
“Hey, you said it yourself you’re practically geriatric. I have to keep you young.”
“That’s why I’m dating a younger woman,” he says, winking at me.
“Ugh! Gross! We’re not dating.” I laugh at his joke.
“We’re not datingyet, baby girl,” Connor says, turning the truck into the drive leading up to his house. House was putting it mildly. It was the kind of sprawling mansion which spoke of generational wealth. The ranch was far enough from town that he practically lived in the middle of nowhere.
“Don’t you get scared living out here by yourself?” I ask, when the house appears. He’s left the exterior lights on.
“I like being away from the town, and I’m not alone. Oliver lives over there.” He points to a smaller structure in the distance. “It’s where the ranch hands live during the summer, but it’s just Oliver right now.”
“And Oliver is…?”
“The ranch foreman,” he explains. “He manages the day-to-day work.”
“Is he cute?”
“No!”
Connor rolls the truck to a stop and puts it in park, his face set in harsh, angry lines. I giggle when he gets out and walks around the truck to open my door. Unlatching my belt, I give him my hand and Connor wraps his arm around my waist, lifting me out of the truck.
I shiver as the cold hits my exposed face and neck and Connor tucks me in against him, leading me up the steps to the porch. My heart beats wildly as I wait for him to unlock thedoor. I wasn’t nervous in the bar, but now that we’re here, I’m suddenly worried about following through. I believe Connor and I know he’ll drive me back to the Inn in an instance.
We haven’t had sex in a year and a half. In that time, I haven’t had sex with anyone else either. I’ve been on a few dates but none felt like they could replace the hole in my chest left by Connor.
With the door unlocked, Connor pushes it open and steps aside, letting me enter first. I stare at the open entryway. Slowly, Connor reaches for my hand and brings it up to his mouth, kissing the back of my fingers.
“If you want to leave, or stay and talk, that’s fine. I just want to be with you. I didn’t bring you here for sex.”
“But it’ll be nice if it is sex?” I take a tentative step closer to him, tilting my head back to look into his eyes.
“Nice isn’t the word I’d use to describe our sex life, but yes.”
I find it so strange how he keeps referring to our relationship in the present tense. As if the last year and a half was a break and not a break-up. The way he’s looking at me right now, full of desire and tenderness, I’m sure that Connor wants me back. That he’ll go to any lengths to get me back and if that means spending the rest of our lives convincing me that our relationship is worth saving, then he’ll do that.
I reach up onto my toes and kiss him softly.
“You’ll have to beg for my forgiveness first, beg for a taste. And then I might consider letting you in.”
I step into the house and Connor closes the door behind us. The sound of the door clicking shut has a finality to it.
“Do you want something to drink?” Connor asks, his voice low.
I really shouldn’t drink, but I need something to calm my nerves. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
I remove my coat and Connor crouches down to unzip my boots, helping me remove them one at a time. Seeing him kneeling before me sends flutters to my belly. Oh, I’m going to enjoy making him beg.
Taking my hand, he leads me into the living room where he starts a fire in the fireplace and offers me a glass of scotch. I don’t drink hard liquor. I take a tentative sip and cough at the burn.
“I also have beer,” Connor says.
“This is fine.”
