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She bobbed her head tipsily. “Yep. Marianne, his last partner, was forty-one. And the one before that. What was her name again? Oh yeah, Lena. She was thirty-eight. So, you know, he kind of has a type.”
“Mm-hmm,” I replied. I had a suspicion I knew where she was going with this.
“Anyway,” she continued. “All I’m saying is, if you really aren’t into him, that’s fine. But if you are and you’re holding back because you think you’re too old for him, just know that the next girlfriend will probably be around the same age as you, too. He’s never been with anyone younger, not as far as I know anyway.”
I was relieved that Bethany’s parents, as well as Tommy and Bridget, were too busy chatting to hear what she was saying. I certainly didn’t need Conor’s mother wondering if I’d somehow led her son on when he was a teenager, because that hadn’t been the case. I’d been entirely clueless about his feelings until the night he’d kissed me, and after that, well, I’d gone out of my way to keep a healthy distance.
“Alright, I think it’s time for bed,” Bethany announced then, rising from her seat.
“Goodnight,” I told her as she wobbled a little on her feet while leaving the room. I sat there for a time, quietly contemplating what she’d said. Conor had always been with older women? He had a type? Something fluttered in my chest at this news. If it was true then that meant I wasn’t holding him back from finding the right person if I let myself be with him.
BecauseIwas the sort of woman he always sought out.
Oh hell, I was way too drunk for that revelation, especially when I knew he was somewhere in this house. Somewhere I could find him and do very, very naughty things to him.
No. You are not going to defile that man while his entire family is sleeping under the same roof, Yvonne. You. Are. Not.
Deciding I should probably get some sleep, too, I rose from the couch, said goodnight to everyone and headed for my room. I was almost at the top of the stairs when I heard a door open. I continued up, spotting Conor leaving his room which was closest to the landing.
He spotted me and his face instantly warmed.
“Hey, you,” he said, eyes wandering over me. “Been having a few drinks?”
Damn, I must’ve looked dishevelled or obviously drunk in some way. Perhaps it was my rosy cheeks. I always got a hot face when I drank too much wine.
“A few,” I replied, holding onto the banister to remain upright. “Did you deal with your work stuff?”
Conor rubbed the back of his neck. The movement brought my attention to his smooth, tan skin and made me want to lick the sexy hollow of his throat. Ugh, I needed to compose myself.Quit it with the slutty ideas!
“Yeah, just a few things that I needed to take care of.” He paused, studying me now. “Don’t tell me you’re off to bed already?”
“I know it’s early, but your sister plied me with wine and now I’m ready to keel over.” Right as I said it, I lost my footing and might have fallen only Conor reached out to steady me, his arm swooping around my waist. His hard body against mine was a temptation I didn’t need right then.
His smile deepened as he tilted his head, bringing his mouth to my ear and whispering, “Are you drunk, Yvonne?”
“A little, but that doesn’t mean you can work your charms. I’m a woman of the world. I know what you’re doing when you whisper in my ear like that,” I said, pointing a finger into his chest. His very nice, hard chest. “Just because I’m drunk doesn’t make me easy pickings, Conor Abrahams. It’ll take a lot more than your sexy whispers to turn me on.”
He chuckled low. “Is that right? I bet I could get your engines revving if I tried hard enough.”
He tickled my hips, soliciting a peel of laughter before I managed to straighten, backing away from him. “Not likely. I doubt you’d even be able to get the windows defrosted.”
Conor moved closer, a sexy gleam in his eyes as he crowded me against the wall right next to his door. “Oh, they’ll be defrosted. They’ll be crystal fucking clear by the time I’m done,” he teased, grinning as he lowered his mouth to my neck, whispering his lips over my pulse point. I pressed my palm flat to his chest, a final vestige of my self-control, though I couldn’t prevent a shaky moan from escaping.
“Let’s go into my room,” he said, full of urgency as he pressed his mouth to my neck fully, his lips caressing, tongue licking. It was almost too heavenly to resist.Almost.
It took every ounce of willpower I had left to push him away. I slipped out from against the wall and moved down the hallway. “As tempting as that sounds, I have a bed of my own to be getting to.”
He pressed his lips together, his eyes burning with desire as I continued backing away down the hallway.
“You’re nothing but a tease, Yvonne Flynn,” he said, smiling wide as he watched me go.
I couldn’t help smiling back. “Just trying to protect my virtue.”
And with that, I hurried to my room before I lost the battle to crash my lips against his and not come up for air until dawn.
***
I woke on Christmas morning with a terrible hangover. It served me right drinking all that red wine. It took a long, hot shower, several glasses of water and a double shot of espresso before I felt like the living again. The house was a flurry of activity and I sat curled up on the couch in the living room after dinner, just enjoying being surrounded by people on Christmas. It made for a pleasant change.
