back was to pay his tickets and the fines before they released it back to him. It cost him huge.”
I narrowed my eyes at Connor. “There is more to this story.” I thought about the call I had only half listened to. “You did something…” My eyes widened. “You did something to his car!”
“Not me. I did nothing.”
“Connor.”
He held up his hands. “I may have had some help. That person may or may not have hidden a small dead fish or two somewhere deep inside the car.”
I gaped at him. “But they’ll go bad, and it’s summer…”
His grin was evil. “They’ll stink, really badly. The car will become undrivable and unsellable.”
I stared at him, wordless.
He stared back, not at all apologetic. “You never place more value on a car than the woman in your life, Jenny.” He narrowed his eyes. “You never touch someone I care about.”
I continued to stare, my thoughts rampant.
He shifted uncomfortably. “Um, Jenny? You’re not gonna like, kick me in the nuts now, are you?”
I gave in. I started to laugh and didn’t bother stopping the snorts that were liberally scattered among the guffaws. I fell back on the bed, holding my stomach, as my mirth spilled over.
Connor leaned over me, his face wreathed in smiles. “Johnny is not having a good day. He gets kicked in the balls, his cell phone takes a swim” —he waggled his eyebrows— “his car is towed, and in the matter of a few days, will start smelling like ass. Really, really bad ass.”
I kept laughing. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew I should tell him off, not only for looking in my cell phone, but also for pulling such a childish prank. Part of me knew I needed to tell him to get the fish out of the car the same way he got them in. But I couldn’t. He was gazing down at me with the most yearning expression on his face. It begged me not to be angry. So, I kept laughing until I was exhausted. The whole time, Connor hovered over me, his face expressing his enjoyment at my reaction.
I fixed a serious expression on my face as I cupped his cheek. “Don’t do that again. Or I’ll get mad.”
“If he stays away from you, I won’t. You took care of his precious phone. I helped with the stupid car. I have no reason to bother him if he stays away. I don’t want you mad either.” He grinned. “If you got mad, would you punish me, Jenny?”
“I might.”
His grin grew wider, and he lowered his lips to my ear, his voice husky. “I, um, have handcuffs, if you really need to punish me. I’d take it like a man.”
I couldn’t help the shiver that went through me. “I think you’d enjoy that too much for it to be considered punishment, Connor.”
He chuckled, his lips ghosting over my skin. “You may be right.”
I sighed. “No more. Leave him alone, okay? He is out of my life. Gone.”
“I will.” He pulled back and kissed my palm. “I actually feel bad for him right now.”
“Because of his smelly car?”
His face softened, and he lowered his voice. “No. Because today, he lost the most amazing woman in the world, and he has no idea how empty his life will be without her.” His voice grew nervous. “And he is never getting her back.”
“No?”
“You’re mine now, Jenny. You’re going to be my whole world. I know it.”
We stared at each other, and before I could stop them, the words were out. They were right, and I meant them. I had felt it for months; I had fought it for months, but it was there.
“And you, mine.” I hesitated. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Connor.”
His eyes widened and he smiled. “The Stockholm syndrome has happened, has it?”
“No. You happened. You walked into my life and changed it.”
This time when he smiled, it was different. It was a smile that promised a whole lifetime of laughter and caring. Of being cared for and protected. Of being together.
“You go ahead and fall. I’ll be right there to catch you. I’m falling too, Jenny.” His lips covered mine, his passion evident, his touch overwhelming.
For the first time in my life, I knew.
I’d found my home, too.
Chapter 4
Jenny
“Here.” Connor tossed a box into the cart. “Next?”
I looked in the cart, already knowing what I would see. “I said Shreddies, Connor. Not Frosted Flakes.”
“I like Frosted Flakes.”
“They aren’t for you. They’re for me.