Cup of Sugar (20 page)

“What does that mean?”

She straightened. Issued
the look
. Tilted head, raised eyebrows, narrowed eyes.
The look
always preceded a lecture, big-sister style. “You’re a great guy. And you always start off strong and well-meaning. But you always bow out.”

“Like hell I do that.”

“I’m not saying I don’t get it, because I do. Watching Mom and Dad drift apart until they were practically strangers living under the same roof did a number on my view of relationships and marriage too.”

Shit. The worst part of Lindsay’s lectures was their tendency to hit dead center. “I didn’t bow out this time. She cut me off cold.”

“That sucks, I’m sorry. When did it happen?”

“In the driveway, right before you showed up.”

“And you’re
here
, eating bacon with me instead of going after her?” She half-stood, reached across and cuffed the side of his head—not in an affectionate way. “Your thirties haven’t made you any smarter.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not.”

“And that means what, exactly?”

“Nia spent the better part of year ducking me. Then, when we did finally connect, she told me straight up that she couldn’t get involved with me because I live next door. Guess she meant it.”

“Oh. Okay. I see you already had your excuse for things not working lined up and waiting in the wings. Since it’s no big deal…” Lindsay pulled some cash from her purse and slid it under her coffee cup. “Let’s go shopping or something.”

Baiting him, just like when they were kids. It worked back then and nothing had changed.

“I can’t force her to change her ‘no getting involved with neighbors’ rule.”

“She actually calls it that—a rule?” She blinked wide when he nodded. “Wow, she might be as messed up in the relationship department as we are. All right. Rules generally exist for a reason, so what’s hers?”

“Not sure of the specifics. Something about a humiliating breakup and she moved to avoid seeing him every day.”

Before he knew what was coming, Lindsay reached over and smacked him again. Harder than the first time. “You really are dense. Ahem, know anybody else who ran away to escape a messy breakup? Doesn’t matter how far she ran, Conn. She ran. Did you ask her about it?”

“Yeah. I think so. Maybe. Sort of.” He ducked another attack from his sister’s slap-happy hand. “If it was that big a deal, she would have told me about it.”

“God, you men are all so thick in the head.”

“And you women make everything too damn complicated.” His point had plenty of truth, but so did Lindsay’s.

His sister had run all the way to another continent—and stayed there two years—to escape her disastrous breakup. Compared to that, moving to the opposite end of the city to avoid an ex hardly seemed the same. Easy for Conn to think, it wasn’t him that’d been burned. Nia had mentioned her rule enough times, he should have made more of an effort to understand it, not just bypass it. Shit.

“So?” his sister asked. “What’re you going to do?”

“Head home.”

“And…?”

“Finish a project I’m working on. Think.”

“Thinking’s good.” Lindsay shimmied along her bench to the end of the booth. “Even better when you don’t have to cross an ocean to do it.” She narrowed her eyes at him, stretched and snatched her money from beneath the cup. “You’re buying. Consider it payment for my services.”

“Getting slapped upside the head repeatedly?” He snorted while tossing some folded bills in the center of the table. “Last time I pay for that.”

“I truly hope so, baby brother.”

Chapter Fourteen

Valentine’s Day. Known as the most romantic day of the year, and from where Nia stood, literally, that reputation held true.

She scoped out the restaurant for the umpteenth time. No empty tables. Dozens of happy couples making doe eyes and holding hands. Every member of the waitstaff at the top of their game. The bar area was full but not overflowing, and the entire evening’s reservations had moved along smoothly and on schedule. They still had about an hour to go before things thinned out, but Nia was calling it. This was her best Valentine’s Day yet. Professionally speaking. On a personal level, it sucked big, hairy, sweaty balls.

Not because she had to work. She’d worked every February 14th for the past nine years. First as a waitress, then as management. Mother’s Day was officially the busiest day of the year in the restaurant business, but Valentine’s wasn’t far behind. She hadn’t had a real Valentine’s Day date in her adult life. Her career choice made her relationship status irrelevant. Honestly, she’d never minded. Today though, no amount of pride in a job well done took her mind off what she didn’t have. Whom she’d been missing all week. The man she wouldn’t be kissing later.

She left her post at the hostess desk for another tour through the dining room. She had to be extra aware when doing table checks on Valentine’s Day. The last thing she wanted to do was interrupt some special moment. There’d been two marriage proposals tonight. That she’d seen, anyway. With the volume of people they’d put through, she might have missed any subtler ones, though she certainly kept her eyes peeled. She
loved
witnessing engagements. That moment…gah. So romantic. So hopeful.

“Excuse me, Nia.” Her best hostess caught up with her in the bend that led to the restaurant’s faux, indoor patio area. “We just seated a guy with reservation at table thirty-five and he’s asking for you.”

“Is there a problem with his table? A couple of the booths on the south wall are almost ready to turn over. We can move him to one of those if he wants something more private.”

“Oh, no, he didn’t complain. And he didn’t ask for the manager. He asked for you, specifically.”

“Thanks. I’ll take a quick tour in here then go right over.” She contemplated the possibilities as she wound between a half dozen of the more casually decorated tables. A guy who’d asked for her by name—that was a short list. An old friend or a friend of the family? A food critic she’d contacted? None of those would show up unexpectedly on Valentine’s Day.

She turned the corner. Stopped, as did her heart, before it accelerated to twice its normal speed. Conn sat at table thirty-five. Alone.

She doubled back to the hostess desk and dragged her index finger down the reservation list. As she expected, nothing for Lawler. She would have noticed earlier. Her finger stopped on another reservation.
W. Knight.
A notation beside the name told Nia the hostess had seated this person at table thirty-five. Conn. The white knight. It’d be cute if she hadn’t already mentally replaced the moniker with something less favorable.

Conn’s head turned in her direction. There had to be thirty feet and at least as many people between them, yet when his eyes locked with hers, heat rippled through her, all the way to her toes. His lips stretched into a slow, sensual grin. As if he knew how he’d affected her. As if he felt the same.

God, she wanted to stomp over there. Give him hell for white-knighting his way into her life. For showing up here, tonight of all nights. For breaking her heart even though he’d never promised her a damn thing.

Of course she’d do no such thing. She dialed it back and casually started toward him, smiling at the happy people enjoying a blissful evening. She even stopped to congratulate one of the couples who’d gotten engaged via a piece of cheesecake with a one-carat garnish. All the while, the weight of his stare raised goose bumps beneath her silky blouse. So she couldn’t control her physical response to him. Defeat admitted. She could, and would, control her words and actions.

“Conn.” She stood across the table from him, gripping the back of the empty chair. “Why are you here?” So much for her control. At least she’d kept her voice at a level only he would hear. Small mercies.

“I wanted to talk to you.” He reached inside his dark-blue sport coat—which looked jaw-droppingly sexy on him—and withdrew a single, lavender rose. “And surprise you.”

“Surprised is an understatement.” She squeezed the chair harder and ignored the proffered rose until he relented and set it on the edge of the table. “I can’t talk now, I have to work. If that’s all, I’ll send a server over…unless you’d rather wait for your date.”

Conn leaned in, forearms extended and hands casually resting near the center of the table. If she were sitting in the chair, rather than hiding behind it, he’d be holding her hands right now. Her skin tingled simply from thinking about it.

“I’m only waiting for you, sweetheart.”

God, that sounded good. Too good. She pushed the gooey feelings aside and found some steel for her voice—and her backbone. “Well don’t. I told you we were done…that way.”

“I didn’t agree to your terms.”

Her bottom lip dropped. Halfway to the floor, it felt like. “CeeCee’s back.”

“Not seeing how those things are related.”

“Seriously?” She shook her head rather than get in to it. She did still have to live next door to him.

“How about you enlighten me, since I’m obviously missing something.”

Fine. She would. “The night at your house, after we—” She glanced around. Nobody paid them any attention, of course. Not on this day.

Her gaze returned to Conn, whose half-smile served to make her blush harder. This was supposed to be a calling-him-out conversation, not one that led to a mutual remembrance of their last sexual encounter.

“You went to sleep and Zeus led me to the basement to go outside. Your phone was down there. It buzzed and I saw the beginning of a text from her, saying she was back and—” Shit, shit, shit. She would
not
get upset, damn it. Not here. “How she missed you too.”

“Yeah. And?”

“And?”
She squeezed her eyes closed, took a breath before meeting his unwavering gaze again. “And you’re with her now. I saw you together.”

His eyes narrowed in what appeared to be genuine confusion. “I’m hanging out with her a bit more than we’d normally do, yeah. I know you’re not close with your sister, but if Sara took off for two years, you’d probably want to spend some time with her once she got back.”

“Wait, what?”

“Kind of what I was thinking.”

Oh god. She pulled the chair back from the table and dropped onto its cushy seat. “CeeCee is your sister?”

“My one and only.”

“Before, when you mentioned your sister, you called her Lindsay. I thought—” No, thought wasn’t quite accurate. “I saw the start of that message and assumed
CeeCee
was somebody from your past. Somebody you missed. She called you ‘baby’…”

His eyebrows drew together. She could practically see the wheels turning behind his incredible eyes.

“I was a late bloomer in the speech department. She’s been CeeCee to me since I started talking. The nickname stuck.” He reached inside his jacket again, this time withdrawing his phone. He swiped and tapped his way past the lock screen. Tapped a few more times, then slid the phone across the table. “Have a look. Scroll through. Read them all if you want.”

Nia didn’t touch the phone. She’d violated his privacy enough already and look at the mess it had caused. But she did read the short text staring up at her. She’d seen most of it in the preview. Most, but not all.

Baby brother.

If only that damn preview had shown one more word.

She nudged the phone toward him. She kept her eyes glued to the pristine, white tablecloth. The black napkin. The red glass beads inside the table’s centerpiece. Anywhere but at him. She just—couldn’t. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” His big, strong hand closed around her wrist before she could stand. “Look at me.”

Only the last thing she wanted to do right now. But how could she refuse—she owed him the opportunity to look her in the eye and call
her
out. She raised her head slowly and met his waiting gaze.

“Why didn’t you just ask me about the message?”

“Embarrassment. Fear.”

He could have laughed in her face. Bit her head off. Instead he smiled. One of the sweet ones that went all the way to his eyes. The kind that disarmed her defenses and melted her resolve.

“Next time something’s bugging you, talk to me. I’m an open book.”

“Um, yes. I have noticed that. Your bathroom could use some curtains or something.” And…she’d just admitted to ogling his naked body for the past year. Flirted with him too.

Conn’s smile took a turn from sweet to sexy and he winked.

“Oh my god. All this time, you knew I could see you…in there.” Translation—he knew she’d been watching. That she’d seen
everything
. She groaned and covered her face with her free hand, though she left a crack to peek through. Hey, why quit spying on him now, right?

He reached over, peeled the fingers from her face. He held both hands captive, his thumbs brushing her skin, sending a jillion sparks skittering up her arms. “I love watching you blush.”

Good thing, because her cheeks were blazing. “Right now, you’ll have to love watching me work. I really have to get back to it. Valentine’s is one of the busiest nights of the year.”

“I understand.” He let go of her hands and stood when she stood. The perfect gentleman. “One more thing before I take off.” He scooped up the rose and pressed it into her hand. “Say you’ll be my Valentine.”

* * * * *

Ambushing Nia on the job had been a gamble. A bit of a dick move, too, forcing her to face him, but hey, it’d worked. They’d left things on a good note but they had more to talk about. Though when Conn closed his eyes and pictured how beautiful she’d looked in her silky top, short skirt and high heels, her pretty hair swept up in some loose twist thing…he could think of many things he’d rather do than talk.

But he wouldn’t rush her off to his bed again. And if they did end up there, he wouldn’t be an ass and fall asleep two minutes afterward. If he’d been awake the other night, she would have handed him the phone. He would’ve read Lindsay’s—or rather, CeeCee’s—message in front of Nia. Hell, he probably would have read it
to
Nia, along with telling her he wanted her to meet his sister. The rest of his family too.