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Chapter 11
Luna
The air was cold and damp as Luna walked down Main Street with Connor. It was a little over a mile and a half from the hospital to her grandparents’ house, and she hadn’t dressed for a long walk in the cold when she’d left the house to drive to the hospital this morning.
Of course, she could’ve told Connor that she had her car and didn’t need him to follow her grandfather’s suggestion of walking her home. Hell, she was sure that he also had his car in the hospital parking lot and could’ve driven her home.
They may have been in a small town, but they weren’t in a small town in the 1800s, for God’s sake.
She didn’t know why, though, but when they’d stepped out of the hospital through the automatic double doors in the lobby, they’d just started off toward her house on foot, like a couple of suggestible zombies.
She glanced surreptitiously up at his face. Gah! His handsome freaking face. That jawline. That stubble. Those eyes. Good lord, who could be expected to think straight when accompanied by a guy with that face?
She snapped her eyes front, feeling her cheeks burn. She knew they must be tomato red. Her blush was the bane of her existence. It telegraphed her feelings out to the world at large—even those feelings she’d prefer to keep to herself.
Hell, she figured, maybe a little conversation would help keep her mind from wandering to sexy places they shouldn’t go right now.
“Thanks for walking me home,” she ventured.
“So, you really think you’ll be here through Christmas, huh?” he replied.
Wow. He really did like to dive in and get straight to the point. She had to grin a little at that. He never had been one for small talk.
“That’s the plan,” she said.
He nodded, and they walked a few more steps in silence. Finally, he said, “If a plan’s the best I can hope for, I guess I’ll take it.”
Luna’s eyes shot to his face and she was relieved to see that he didn’t look angry, or sad. Instead, there was a playful grin playing on his lips.
God, she’d missed that grin so much. It had never failed to send a flutter through her belly, and this moment was no exception.
In fact, she felt more than just the fluttery belly—there was also heat spreading all over her skin, and dizziness invading her brain.
This was a familiar and specific group of symptoms that she’d always referred to as The Connor Trifecta.
So, yeah. She was clearly still every bit as susceptible to them as she’d ever been.
Good to know. Yep. Good. To. Freaking. Know.
The only comfort she had was that she had plenty of reasons to assume that he was still just as affected by her as she was by him. The way the corner of his mouth twitched when she said something unexpected. The way he made a point of moving his body protectively in between her and any car that passed them on the street.
Hell, just the fact that he’d shown up at the hospital today, a fully cooked turkey slung over his shoulder.
She glanced down at the foil-covered plate she carried. Connor was carrying its identical twin. She swallowed.
She knew the food would be cold by the time she ate it. She didn’t care. Connor had made it. For her. She’d love every last freaking bite.
He nudged her arm with his elbow and she looked over at him, stomach flipping with the familiarity of the gesture. It was what he had always done when she disappeared down a rabbit trail in her own mind. It was his gentle way of teasing her back to the present moment.
“Hey,” he said, looking into her eyes, the corner of his mouth crinkling.
“Hey, yourself,” she replied softly, all three symptoms of the trifecta hitting her full strength.
“You know, I think I just realized why I keep thinking so much about how long you’re going to stay. Because that’s the question I keep asking, both to you, and in my head. But it’s not the question I actually want the answer to.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She was almost too afraid to speak, and when she did, it came out as a whisper.
“What is the question?”
