Page 72 of Can’t Say No

The sting of tears hit before I can stop them. I let one fall, then another.

Connor immediately brushes the tears away. “Lanie, baby, what’s wrong?” He grabs my shoulders and pushes me back by my shoulders, as if he’s checking for damage. “Did I hurt you?”

I’m quick to shake my head. “No, no it’s not that.” My voice cracks. “Connor, you’re perfect. I… I’m just not used to this. The cuddling all night thing. I’ve never really had a morning after.”

A sly smile creeps onto his face. “So what you’re saying is, I’m your first overnight guest? I love having another one of your firsts, Lanie Lou.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “You don’t have to stay. Not if this feels like too much.”

It does feel like too much. I’m too much.

But now that I’m back in Connor’s arms, leaving suddenly feels impossible.

“Besides,” he mumbles into my hair, “if you stay the night, I can almost guarantee a morning quickie before you leave.”

I swat at his bare chest, letting my hand rest on his firm pecs. “Connor Majors, are you bribing me with sex?”

“Yes,” he says plainly. “Is it working?”

I climb back in Connor’s bed.

27

CONNOR

As predicted, I’m a dead man. One night with Delaney did me in. I’ve dreamed about her, fantasized about every scenario possible. But the real thing was better than I could have imagined. Sure, she’s sexy as hell, and the electric energy between us made for chemistry unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

But more than the physical connection, it was the shared vulnerability. The words I never thought I’d say, never thought I’d hear. Our shared past finally colliding to create a shared future, after all this time.

One night with Delaney and I’ll never be the same again.

Major’s Sunday brunch is a hallowed tradition, one that I usually look forward to each month. But the sight of Delaney curled up asleep in my bed is killing any motivation I might have to go spend a few hours with my family.

“Are you staring at me?” Delaney asks, eyes fluttering open.

“Yes,” I admit shamelessly. Her hair is loose around her shoulders and she’s wrapped up in my blankets.

Possessiveness thunders in my chest.

My bed, my blankets, my Delaney.

“Wanna come with me to my dad’s for brunch? Jaylen and Ruthie will be there.”

Her eyes light up. “Of course I want to come! I love your family.”

That same possessiveness roars again. This is where she belongs, in my bed, spending time with my family, here with me.

She belongs in Ridgecrest.

I fumble my way into some clothes and head to the kitchen to throw together a tater tot casserole, my classic contribution for Sunday brunch, while she runs back to her house, cutting through our backyards like we did as kids.

We started the tradition of Sunday brunch after my oldest sibling, Ruthie, went to college an hour away when I was still in middle school. Once a month, my dad skips church and we all congregate for a big brunch. He makes the main dishes, and we bring sides and friends.

As much as I complained about Sunday brunch as a teenager, it’s become something I look forward to each month. And getting to bring Delaney again after all these years… that’s about as good as it gets.

Delaney meets me in the driveway wearing leggings and a sweatshirt, her unwashed hair piled into a messy bun. Her dirty blonde roots are starting to show, and maybe it’s just my eyes playing tricks on me, but I think I see frown lines breaking through her Botox.

I won’t lie, I’ve kept up with her over the years. Checked out magazine covers, scrolled tabloid sites, lightly stalked her social media accounts. Enough to know that when Delaney is in full pop-star glam, she’s a knockout.

But this, all undone and a little messy? This version of Delaney is making it really hard to focus on anything other than her.