boy.”
Connor had used pictures of a barely-out-of-college intern who’d once done work as a wilderness guide in Northern California. He wasa twenty-four-year-old kid with too-long blond hair and a smile that could probably get him in the movies. In all the pictures on his social networking sites, Niall was climbing a mountain or river rafting.
Niall wasn’t covered in scars, both internal and external. He wouldn’t use sarcasm as a shield. He was bright and fucking shiny, like Lara herself. Niall didn’t cling to the shadows because the darkness felt like home.
If this was a fairy tale, Niall would be the handsome prince and Connor the villain who tore him away from the fair princess and broke her heart.
Lara was going to have to get used to the fact that this wasn’t a fucking fairy tale and princes didn’t exist. It was time to start resetting her expectations.
“I’m afraid she doesn’t know everything about him.”
Kiki’s eyes closed briefly, and she sighed when she opened them again. “Just let her down easy. She really likes him.”
“He likes her, too, but that doesn’t mean he’s right for her. Or that he’s in love with her.” At least he’d been careful about that. He’d been flirty and nice, but he hadn’t said anything about love. Even when he was playing a role, he would never have mentioned that word.
“Tell me he’s an asshole.” Tom seemed more than willing to talk to him now.
Kiki shook her head and walked off as the doorbell rang. “That’s probably your food, carnivores.”
When Connor got to the door, he realized it was so much worse.
A small army stood there. They were a motley group. A couple looked damn near homeless, but that was just how twenty-year-olds seemed to dress these days. There were two elderly ladies, one complete with a walker. A worried-looking mom with a child clutching each of her hands.
One of the homeless stepped up. “Is Lara here? We heard about her on the news.”
He was just about to toss them all out when he heard a little cry behind him.
“Oh, I’m fine. Please come in.” Lara threw the door wide open and the mass shuffled inside.
Tom slapped him on the back. “Welcome to her world. No one’s a stranger. Good luck keeping her alive.”
Yeah, he could see that he was going to need it.
FOUR
L ara shut the door on the last of her visitors and hoped they’d bought the act. She’d had to smile and pretend to adore Connor. She’d explained that they’d met through mutual friends, but he was based in California and this was his first trip to D.C.
Her friend Barb, a divorced mom of two who lived on the fourth floor, had asked if Connor had a brother. The elderly sisters from the eighth asked if he had a record. Freddy, a fellow truth seeker from the second floor, had told her bluntly that Connor was obviously a CIA agent here on a mission to silence them all.
Sometimes Freddy had a vivid imagination.
“You have an interesting group of friends.” Connor sat on her couch like he owned the place. His left ankle crossed his right knee and he sat back, a glass of Scotch in his hand. The lord of the manor. She could see him as a medieval duke, staring out over his peasants before he chose a pretty servant girl to share his bed.
That was so not a politically correct fantasy. She crossed over to her bar and poured herself a glass of rather potent blueberry wine. It wasorganic and local and sometimes she wondered if the FDA shouldn’t step in because more than one glass really got her going.
She poured half a glass. She needed her faculties against him.
Lara turned and joined him in her small living room. She sat across from him on the love seat.
“There’s plenty of room here.” He gestured next to him.
No way. She’d spent the last three hours practically on his lap because there had been no place else to sit. In fact, she could still feel his arms around her. “I’m fine over here. You and Lincoln seem to get along now.
Connor had used pictures of a barely-out-of-college intern who’d once done work as a wilderness guide in Northern California. He wasa twenty-four-year-old kid with too-long blond hair and a smile that could probably get him in the movies. In all the pictures on his social networking sites, Niall was climbing a mountain or river rafting.
Niall wasn’t covered in scars, both internal and external. He wouldn’t use sarcasm as a shield. He was bright and fucking shiny, like Lara herself. Niall didn’t cling to the shadows because the darkness felt like home.
If this was a fairy tale, Niall would be the handsome prince and Connor the villain who tore him away from the fair princess and broke her heart.
Lara was going to have to get used to the fact that this wasn’t a fucking fairy tale and princes didn’t exist. It was time to start resetting her expectations.
“I’m afraid she doesn’t know everything about him.”
Kiki’s eyes closed briefly, and she sighed when she opened them again. “Just let her down easy. She really likes him.”
“He likes her, too, but that doesn’t mean he’s right for her. Or that he’s in love with her.” At least he’d been careful about that. He’d been flirty and nice, but he hadn’t said anything about love. Even when he was playing a role, he would never have mentioned that word.
“Tell me he’s an asshole.” Tom seemed more than willing to talk to him now.
Kiki shook her head and walked off as the doorbell rang. “That’s probably your food, carnivores.”
When Connor got to the door, he realized it was so much worse.
A small army stood there. They were a motley group. A couple looked damn near homeless, but that was just how twenty-year-olds seemed to dress these days. There were two elderly ladies, one complete with a walker. A worried-looking mom with a child clutching each of her hands.
One of the homeless stepped up. “Is Lara here? We heard about her on the news.”
He was just about to toss them all out when he heard a little cry behind him.
“Oh, I’m fine. Please come in.” Lara threw the door wide open and the mass shuffled inside.
Tom slapped him on the back. “Welcome to her world. No one’s a stranger. Good luck keeping her alive.”
Yeah, he could see that he was going to need it.
FOUR
L ara shut the door on the last of her visitors and hoped they’d bought the act. She’d had to smile and pretend to adore Connor. She’d explained that they’d met through mutual friends, but he was based in California and this was his first trip to D.C.
Her friend Barb, a divorced mom of two who lived on the fourth floor, had asked if Connor had a brother. The elderly sisters from the eighth asked if he had a record. Freddy, a fellow truth seeker from the second floor, had told her bluntly that Connor was obviously a CIA agent here on a mission to silence them all.
Sometimes Freddy had a vivid imagination.
“You have an interesting group of friends.” Connor sat on her couch like he owned the place. His left ankle crossed his right knee and he sat back, a glass of Scotch in his hand. The lord of the manor. She could see him as a medieval duke, staring out over his peasants before he chose a pretty servant girl to share his bed.
That was so not a politically correct fantasy. She crossed over to her bar and poured herself a glass of rather potent blueberry wine. It wasorganic and local and sometimes she wondered if the FDA shouldn’t step in because more than one glass really got her going.
She poured half a glass. She needed her faculties against him.
Lara turned and joined him in her small living room. She sat across from him on the love seat.
“There’s plenty of room here.” He gestured next to him.
No way. She’d spent the last three hours practically on his lap because there had been no place else to sit. In fact, she could still feel his arms around her. “I’m fine over here. You and Lincoln seem to get along now.
Similar Books
