Mission Happy (A Texas Desires Novel Book 3) (16 page)

BOOK: Mission Happy (A Texas Desires Novel Book 3)
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As if by some cosmic cue, his phone began to ring. He slid a finger over the screen and answered. “Right on time.”

“You nailed it. I didn’t believe it would only take you fifteen minutes to get there and checked in. Pretty impressive, Connor.”

They had talked all the way through his dinner, until it was time to pay. She had doubted him when he’d suggested she call him back in fifteen minutes. That made her surprise all the sweeter. He chuckled and a big jaw-cracking yawn escaped.

“You’re tired. Go to bed,” she said.

“You have to be tired too.”

“I am, but it’s still early here. I’ve got lines to go over.”

“Then talk to me until I fall asleep,” he said and yawned again.

“Are you already in bed?” she asked.

“Came straight to it. Where are you?”

“I’m in my room. I’m tired too. This schedule’s been crazy. It’s almost over though. I thought I’d get a quick nap before dinner.”

“What are you working on?” he asked, staring up at the ceiling.

“This is for a television show. I got my manager involved in getting me off work. I got a message a little while ago that I can leave on Wednesday and stay until Sunday night. Is that okay? Is it too long to stay with you? Because I can get a room,” she offered.

“No, it’s great. It gives me time to clean the place up. I guess it depends on where you’re flying into if I need to get us a room someplace that first night, but I can pick you up wherever,” he said, thinking about the closest airports. People normally flew into DFW International, but she could get a flight into San Marcus or Lubbock. Whatever, he didn’t mind the drive to Dallas.

“I haven’t gotten that far yet in my planning. I can tell you all that tomorrow. Did you talk to your parents? Do they know you’re coming?” she asked.

“I left a message on my mom’s phone. Neither one of my parents answered.”

She gave a small sigh. He’d noticed earlier today all the little noises she made while on the phone. He wasn’t sure why he took each and every one so sexually, but he did. He couldn’t help it when his dick stirred at the sounds. “Make that noise again.”

“Which one?”

“That sigh.” He grinned when she did without question. “Yeah, that one. It sounds like a noise you make when we’re together.”

He got silence back. He wasn’t sure what that meant until she asked, “Are you trying to sex talk me?”

“If I did, would it work?” he challenged. And no, he wasn’t trying to, but his dick turned hard at the thought. Clearly, it was on board with the idea.

“I haven’t ever done it before, have you?” she asked, her voice lowering a notch.

“Of course. I spent a year away at a time. It’s all I had,” he replied.

“Okay, well, I never asked, but did you have a long-term relationship before?” Her voice lost that sexy husky thing she’d developed.

“You’re moving off topic. Focus,” he said, shoving the covers down and gripping his cock.

“I am focused. Did you have a long-term? Have you ever been married?” He stroked himself to keep from deflating. Why were they talking about past relationships now?

“No, never married, and nothing really serious. I dated a woman for a couple of years. I spent about sixty days with her during that whole time. She lived in that townhome I have and got pissed off when I went to meet the guys for our annual trip instead of coming home. By the time I got back, she’d met someone and moved out. I kept the place,” he explained succinctly.

There was a long silence and he was too tired to interpret the situation. Without encouragement from her, his desire flagged. When she still didn’t answer, he glanced at the screen to see if he’d lost the call. He hadn’t and brought the phone to his ear and asked, “Are you there?”

“Yeah. Connor, I’m jealous. I’ve never been jealous before. I’m processing all that,” she answered honestly, but it confused him.

“What’re you jealous of?” he asked.

“I don’t even know. I don’t want to talk about it.” Now she sounded angry. Since they’d gone through the full range of emotions in less than a minute, he laughed at her.

“You’re the one who changed the subject. I wanted to be talking sex.”

“Well, now I have stage fright. I need to think about sex talk before I just do it. I don’t want to be bad at it or be less than her,” she said, in that same angry tone, and Connor barked out another laugh, pulling the blankets back over his body, his dick now flaccid.

“You’re competing with her? That’s hilarious. I never said she was good at it.”

“She was good at it,” Julie replied. There was no question in her statement.

“I think you’ll be better,” he countered.

“Hmm.”

“So you’re telling me it’s probably not gonna happen tonight, is it?” he asked and yawned again.

“Not tonight,” she replied.

“Okay, then tell me what you’re wearing.” He asked that more to tease her than anything else.

“My night clothes,” she answered, confused.

“What do they look like?” he encouraged, hiding his humor. She truly didn’t get it and clearly hadn’t done this before.

“It’s a tank top and shorts,” she answered, even more confused. He envisioned her looking down at her clothing, trying to figure out where he was going with this line of questioning.

“Yeah, you need to work on it. It’s not natural for you,” he said dryly, teasing her even more.

“Augh!”

“Stop making those noises if you’re not going to follow through!” he exclaimed, laughing solidly now. He enjoyed teasing her. She was unintentionally funny at times—he loved that about her.

She was silent for several long moments until she started laughing too. “You need to sleep. Call me when you wake up.”

“You call me. I’m ahead in time,” he replied.

“When are you getting on the road?”

“Early. Just call me.”

“Good night, Connor,” she said. He liked when she said his name with that sweet tone she used.

“Good night, Julie. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He ended the call and turned to his side. It didn’t take long to fall asleep, and Julie starred in every dream he had.

 

~~~

 

The next day, Connor pulled down the long gravel driveway of his childhood home and looked around the property. His parents lived on thirty acres right off the country road. They were at least fifty miles south of Sweetwater. As he put the truck in park, he took it all in. The signs were all there, but they didn’t make any sense—windows closed up tight, screen doors not open as they usually were, and the pack of dogs they always had wasn’t beating a path to his truck. His parents were clearly gone; he just had no idea to where. They never left the place. In all of his thirty years of life, they’d been right here in this little house—not one vacation, not one overnight stay. They’d spent their whole lives within a sixty-mile radius of that homestead.

He reached for his phone and checked again, but his mom still hadn’t called him back.

Only because he saw no other choice, he dialed his brother’s cell phone number. If nothing else, he should be somewhere close by, no doubt lurking and sneaking around.

“Is the great Connor McDaniel really lighting up my phone?” Chris’s tone grated on his nerves instantly.

“Where’re Mom and Dad?” he asked, forgoing any pleasantries. They didn’t like each other on any level and couldn’t be more opposite had they tried.

“They didn’t tell
you
?” He exaggerated the last word, and it irritated him as his brother had intended.

“Where are they?”

“Mom won a cruise on the radio and they went.” Short, simple, and said with complete superiority.

“Where are you?”

Chris’s silence answered that question. His brother didn’t believe much in work. He liked the quick-buck theory of life and regularly crashed at his parents’ house while waiting on his next big get-rich scheme. “Never mind. Don’t tell me. When are they gonna be home?”

“You’re such a douche. It’s always all about you. Never take a minute to see how I’m doing.”

“Chris, now’s not the time for your bullshit.”

“It’s never the time for anything other than the high and mighty Con.”

That was their other problem; Connor had no doubt he’d been the easier child to raise. He purposefully tried not to be a drain on his family. Chris was the exact opposite. Experience with his brother had proved this call would go downhill from there…and fast. They would be trading insults until he wanted to put his fist through something, preferably his brother’s face.

Instead of going there again, he ended the call and dialed his aunt. He should have called her first.

“Connor! Is everything all right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m in town and saw Mom and Dad’s house closed up,” he said, hoping that was enough to get his aunt talking.

“I didn’t know you were coming? Did they know?” she asked.

“No, it was spur of the moment.”

“Oh, your mom’s gonna be so disappointed. How long are you here for?” she asked excitedly. He suspected she was already planning his welcome-home get together—just another reason to have a BBQ and drink lots of beer. His family excelled at that.

“I don’t really know how long, but where did they go?”

“She won a cruise on one of those radio programs she listens to. They had to go right away. I think they come home next Monday. Are you staying for Thanksgiving?” Again with the planning. He grinned, staring out at the back pasture.

“I don’t really know. I don’t have a solid plan. Is Chris around?” he asked, out of nothing more than curiosity.

“No, he’s in West Virginia. He got hired on with some new oil company. He left last week.”

Good, he and Chris would make it about a night before one or the other was bumping chests and trying to fistfight the disagreement out. His brother couldn’t ever seem to figure out that Connor could kick his ass about twelve different ways before they ever got out to the yard. Chris was such a dumbass.

“Who’s feeding the animals?” he asked.

“Uncle Johnny’s going by there on his way home from work.”

“Okay, I think I’ll probably just stay in the house then. So if you see someone here, it’s me. And if I don’t catch Johnny, tell him I can feed.” With one foot out of the truck, he reached for his bag as he watched his parents’ pack of mutts tearing across the back pasture, running toward the house. He’d need to see how they got out of the fenced backyard and fix that hole, but they’d find another. They always did.

“Okay, honey, if I hear from your mom, I’ll tell her you’re at home. Let me know when you decide on how long you’re staying. We’ll have a BBQ over at Nanny’s place. She’d love to see you.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. I’ll come by one night this week and see everyone,” he said, slamming his truck door. He slung the bag over his shoulder as he headed toward the front door.

“You do that. The door’s always open if you need some dinner.” And it
was
always open. That was his family’s way.

“Okay, I’m going in. Bye, Aunt Pat,” he said, taking the porch steps up.

“Bye, baby.” He didn’t have the key in the door before his phone began to vibrate in his hand. He wasn’t sure the device had had this much activity in all the years he’d owned it. Absently unlocking the door, he lifted his phone to open Julie’s text. Her flight information. She was coming Wednesday evening and flying into a small private airport about two hours away. Trying to get inside the house with the dogs racing around the porch, nipping at his heels, had him almost missing the comment at the bottom that she would rent a car. Bruno wanted them to have transportation. Once inside, he tossed his bag on the sofa and replied, making it clear he’d pick her up. Bruno could rent a car and follow behind them.

It was silly how much he missed her; he knew that. He’d never missed anyone like this before. If he met her at the airport, he’d get to see her two hours earlier, making the drive to the airport totally justifiable. When she replied with an argument of saving gas, he decided it didn’t hurt to tell her how much he missed her in the reply message before tossing the phone aside.

The house looked weird all shut down and the air inside had become a little stuffy—it had that old house smell. He didn’t like that at all. He went from window to window, opening the drapes before lifting each window to let the fresh air inside. After he’d gone through the house, he made his way to the refrigerator. As suspected, his mom had cleaned it out before leaving on her trip, but the emptiness was another weird experience. His mom always had something cooked, ready to feed whoever stopped by.

Digging through the crispers and compartments, he found the makings for a sandwich while mentally going over a grocery list. He could feed the animals, go see Cole, and make a grocery store run before coming back home tonight.

With his sandwich made, he took a big bite and headed to the living room to grab his duffle bag. Since his mom spent most of her life cleaning an already clean house, he wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning his old room in order to use it. She would have everything perfectly together before she’d left. All he had to do was make sure it was clean when she got home. That was always the struggle. He opened the door to his childhood room—not much had changed and just like all the other furniture in the house, this room looked exactly the way it had when he was growing up.

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