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“Let me get your drink,” Connor blubbers to fill the somewhat awkward silence that had settled between us, but I refuse, lifting Bounce’s sleeping head off my lap.
“I should be getting back,” I tell them. “I did promise not to be gone too long, and…” I trail off and look meaningfully at the clock over the mantle. They both chuckle nervously and stand as I do the same, wrapping the blanket more tightly around me as I head into the kitchen to find my strewn clothing.
“I’ll walk home,” Eli tells Connor, and he nods, even though I can’t imagine walking a mile and a half at this hour. But before he leaves, he turns to me. “I’ll come tomorrow and see what you need to get started on Katherine’s property,” he promises before heading out the door without so much as a “good night.”
I eye Connor, unsure if I should ask about Eli or not, but he volunteers the information as he snatches the keys to his truck off the counter.
“He’s been through a lot over the past few years,” Connor states vaguely. “He’s not really an asshole—even if he comes off that way sometimes.”
I can still feel Eli inside me, his hands clinging to me as if he was afraid I was going to slip away.
“If you say so,” I reply dryly, following Connor out toward his waiting truck, but I believe him.
Eli doesn’t strike me as an asshole. Hudson, perhaps, but Eli… he’s more of a lost soul in my eyes, protective of himself and my grandmother. I couldn’t begrudge him for being wary of me.
But my goal here isn’t to win over these men. I want to focus on a bigger goal—making sure my grandmother no longer struggles. But if nights like these become a regular part of my routine, I’m not going to put up a fight.
There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun on the side.
CHAPTER12
Eli
Ifeel like utter shit as I approach Katherine’s property this morning. I didn’t sleep for shit as I replayed what had happened in Connor’s kitchen. I certainly hadn’t gone there forthat,but did I regret it? Not really.
Connor and I have shared women in the past. In fact, it’s been a pretty regular thing since Simone died. But we’ve only shared one-night stands. Rose is going to be in our lives for the foreseeable future, and maybe we really fucked up.
A part of me wonders if in the cold light of day, Rose might regret what we did. I have no doubt that Connor will see this as another notch on his many belts.
It just seemed like the right thing to do at the moment. It was honestly the most fun I’ve had in a long time. And one more good thing came out of it—I have no doubt that she is who she says she is now.
“Good morning!” Rose chirps from outside on the rotting porch. She holds a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. “There’s a fresh pot in the kitchen if you want one.”
I nod without speaking and head inside, but relief sweeps through me to note that she seems to be taking my arrival in stride. To my utter shock, I find Connor already inside, chatting with Katherine at the table, the pair poring over a wide page sprawled over the surface.
“Good morning, darling!” Katherine calls to me, smiling warmly. “Let me get you a cup of Joe.”
“I can get it,” I reassure her, gesturing for her not to get up. “What have you got there?”
“Rosie’s been working on a redesign all night,” Connor informs me with his characteristic smirk, stepping back so I can look from my place at the counter.
I peer over his shoulder and blink in shock.
“She did that last night?” I choke.
“When does she find the time, right?” Connor snickers suggestively, nudging me.
“I’ve been working on it for a few days,” Rose interjects, striding into the kitchen, rolling her eyes. “But I put the finishing touches on it last night. I was feeling… inspired.”
She winks in my direction, and I feel heat surge into my face. Hastily, I turn back to the coffee maker and pour myself a cup as the three of them turn back to the plans. I didn’t look at them closely, but from what I’ve gleaned, they are impressive.
Casually, I amble back toward the table and peer over Connor’s shoulder. He sets himself aside slightly so I can look. A low whistle escapes my lips as I take it all in.
“This is going to cost a fortune,” I mutter, more to myself than to them, but it’s the wrong thing to say to Rose. I catch her frown.
“I’ve already made a budget.” She produces a manila folder stacked with pages.
Of course she has.
