My Love at Last Page 5

  “Till about six.” He took a step. “I’d be in the mood for a drink about six thirty. Care to join me?” It sounded like a challenge.

  “I… really have a lot to do… ”

  “No problem. If you change your mind, I’ll be at McCoy’s on Winston Street.” He tapped the side of her car and walked away before she had a chance to respond.

  Olivia tugged the door open and got behind the wheel. She should have agreed. Instead, she pulled away and went home… to spend the evening alone.

  Chapter 4

  “So… what do you think of Connor Lawson?” Desiree asked. She stuck her fork in the chicken salad and took a mouthful.

  Olivia took a sip of her tea. “He’s… nice enough.”

  Desiree nearly choked. “Nice enough. You. Are. Kidding. Right?”

  Olivia laughed. “What do you want me to say, Desi?”

  “I saw the two of you together at the party. There was definitely chemistry.”

  “I think you’re imagining things.”

  “Hmm. And my name is Don’t Know Any Better.”

  Olivia pushed out a feigned sigh. “Okay, okay, you twisted my arm. The man is fine. All caps. Sexy seeps from his pores and he’s smart. Lethal combination. Would I kick him out of my bed? I don’t think so,” she added with a grin. “We’re going to dinner tonight. So… we’ll see.” She gave a half shrug.

  “That’s more like it. Where are you going?”

  “I have no idea.” She picked up her chicken panino. “He didn’t say, just that he was going to pick me up between seven and seven thirty.”

  Desiree leaned in. “Connor doesn’t date.”

  “What?” Olivia frowned in confusion.

  Desiree tilted her head to the side. “Connor is… How can I say this… ”

  “Just say it.”

  Desiree pursed her lips a moment before responding. “He’s noncommittal. He may meet a woman at a party or a restaurant, but he doesn’t do the ‘date’ thing. At least not in all the time he’s been here.” Her brows rose for emphasis.

  “So… what are you telling me… exactly?”

  “I’m saying that I think he likes you.”

  Olivia playfully rolled her eyes. “You’re reading waaay too much into a simple dinner.”

  “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  * * *

  After lunch at The Port with Desiree, Olivia treated herself to a mani-pedi, followed by a stop at the local boutique. The bulk of her wardrobe was jeans, T-shirts and one dress fit for a corporate meeting, not a date with the hottest guy in town. But since she had no idea where they were going or what was de rigueur, she opted for the can’t-go-wrong simple black dress with a cap sleeve, V-neckline that offered a hint of the gems beneath, and the hem just above her knees. The fabric was simple jersey that subtly cupped her curves. Her one pair of black dress shoes with a modest two-inch heel would do fine.

  Olivia turned from side to side in front of the mirror and was pleased with her reflection, although she often wondered if she resembled anyone. Did she have her mother’s wide doe-shaped eyes or her father’s narrow nose? Whose genes had given her the tiny cleft in her chin? Was her nut-brown complexion a family trait? Did wild springy curls run in the family? As much as she wanted to stop asking the litany of questions, she never could. The answers were always out of her reach. She leaned forward and added a bit of bronze-toned lip gloss, then gave her naturally long lashes a couple of swipes of mascara.

  Her cell phone shimmied across the dresser top. She snatched it up and pressed the green phone icon.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey. I should be to you in about ten minutes. Ready?”

  “Just about. See you then.”

  Olivia set the phone down and noticed that her hand was shaking every so slightly, as a warm flush, the kind you feel from good liquor, moved through her. She inhaled deeply, took her phone and keys from the dresser and dropped them both in her purse, smoothed her dress and then walked up front. For a few moments she practiced walking back and forth across the living room floor of her cottage rental. Walking and balancing in heels was a far cry from her sneakers and work shoes.

  When she first arrived in Sag Harbor, she’d stayed at one of the hotels in town that overlooked Long Island Sound. She’d tried to get a place at The Port but was told they were booked solid. Where she wound up staying was nice enough as hotels go and she would have been content to stay, until she’d run into Desiree Davenport one day at the local vegetable market. They’d hit it off right away and Olivia had confessed her failed attempt at getting a long-term lease for one of the cottages. Desiree promised that she’d personally take care of it, and had teased her with the amenities that only The Port could provide. Olivia didn’t need much convincing, as she sensed that not only would she find a great place to stay but had also found a friend in Desiree Davenport.

  Her cottage at The Port was as close to a “home” as she could get. The single-floor design was set in a small cul-de-sac that looked out onto the beach. Floor-to-ceiling windows flanked the east to bring in the morning sun. A fully functional HGTV-worthy kitchen was complete with stainless-steel appliances, dishwasher and a stackable washer and dryer tucked away in a closet. The living area was simple but classy, with soft taupe furnishings, hardwood floors, a fireplace for those chilly nights and a built-in sound system. Her bedroom accommodated a king-size bed, cherrywood dresser and bureau, and a to-die-for walk-in closet. The bathroom was the perfect getaway, with a soaker tub and Jacuzzi jets and recessed lighting to set the perfect relaxing mood. To sweeten the pie, The Port was also a full-service establishment with its own restaurant and bar, day spa and gym, and Desiree and Lincoln had recently added a concierge service for any guests staying for a week or more. Olivia could easily see why The Port was so successful and always full.

  No sooner had she opened the foyer closet to get her light shawl than the doorbell chimed. Her heart actually banged in her chest. She licked her lips, drew in a breath and went to open the door.

  The light of a half-moon drew an outline around the striking figure that was standing in her doorway.

  Olivia’s lips parted but the words got tangled deep in her throat.

  “I thought I’d surprise you.”

  “Victor… what are you doing here?”

  “Don’t look so happy to see me,” he teased, apparently mistaking her horror for surprise.

  An awkward moment of “what next” stood between them.

  Olivia’s gaze darted beyond Victor’s broad shoulders, checking for Connor’s car, which would be pulling up any minute.

  “All dressed up for a night in?” he finally said, as realization dawned on him.

  Olivia shifted her weight and folded her arms. “I would invite you in but… I’m expecting someone.”

  “I see. Always did have bad timing when it came to you.” He raised his hands in supplication. “Totally my fault. I should have called.” He studied his shoes for a moment, then sheepishly looked at her. “I’m staying at the hotel in town. Why don’t I give you a call tomorrow.”

  “Fine,” she managed to reply. She offered a tight-lipped smile.

  Victor leaned down and pecked her lightly on the cheek. “Enjoy your evening. You look beautiful, by the way.” He turned and trotted down the steps and walked off to his Audi.

  Olivia didn’t realize that she’d been holding her breath until she felt the vein in her temple began to throb. She pushed the door closed and briefly shut her eyes. “What the hell,” she muttered.

  No sooner had she turned away than the bell rang again. Steadying herself, she went through the process again.

  “Hey,” Connor said in greeting. He slightly tipped his head in the direction of the two-lane road. “Busy night.”

 
Olivia swallowed and lifted her chin ever so slightly. She didn’t owe him any explanations. “One of those days,” she said offhand. “Ready?”

  A shadow of a smile played around his mouth and his eyes darkened with humor. “As long as you are.”

  The air hitched in her throat. She retreated a step. “Come in. I need to get my things.” She spun away and click-clicked across the hardwood floor. Why did he have such an unsettling effect on her? His voice, his scent, his movements, those eyes, his lips…

  Connor leaned against the still-open door and watched her. Slowly he rocked his jaw as he contemplated the night ahead. Generally, he was a man who wasn’t into surprises. Didn’t like them. He planned his life much the same way he planned his jobs — with efficiency, always factoring in contingency plans, just in case. It was rare that he encountered “just in case” moments. Olivia Gray was one, and for the first time he had no contingency plan.

  Olivia came toward him. “You didn’t have to stand in the doorway.” She tucked her purse under her arm and draped her shawl around her shoulders.

  Connor stepped around her. She felt the hard heat of him against her back. Goose bumps sprouted along her arms. She shuddered. He pressed his long fingers onto her shoulders and gently adjusted the shawl, smoothing his hands along the fabric. “All set,” he said close to her ear.

  A flutter of need flapped in her pelvis and the warm dewdrops quickly followed. She moved away from his invisible embrace. “Slam the door and it will lock behind you,” she said, and stepped out into the pleasantly warm night.

  Connor opened the car door for her, then came around to the driver’s side while humming an offbeat tune.

  The interior of the Mercedes held his scent, which swirled around Olivia, fogging her clarity. She felt for the first few moments when the door closed that she’d been injected with an aromatic aphrodisiac. To offset her sense of almost weightlessness she forced her attention to routine: fasten seat belt, check lock on door, lay purse on lap.

  “Hope you enjoy live music,” Connor said, entering the safe space of her self-imposed sanctuary of banal activity.

  “Most of the time,” she said in a teasing tone, clearly referring to his attempt at humming.

  He gave her a quick look. “Don’t worry, I have no plans to quit my day job.”

  The tight line of tension in the center of her chest snapped with her laughter. “Good to know.”

  “I’m pained, cher,” he said, slipping easily into his Louisiana vernacular, the barely there twang only adding to his sensual appeal.

  Olivia instinctively reached for his arm in a conciliatory gesture. Bad move. Her fingertips tingled above the tight ropes of his forearm. He flashed her a half grin. “Many are called, few are chosen, somebody important once said,” she murmured.

  “Killing me with kindness will get you kissed,” he said, his voice low and sandpaper rough. He slid his gaze toward her, then back to the road.

  Olivia tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth and slowly removed her hand from his arm.

  Connor reached forward to the lit dash and pressed the screen. Something bluesy filled the air.

  Olivia linked her fingers together. “So… what kind of music?”

  “Local band. Heard they were pretty good. Little jazz, little blues. They have a soloist, and the food is great. I think you’ll like it for a small seaside town.”

  “You say that as if you think I’m slumming or something.”

  He cut her a look. “Not at all. Simple observation.” His fingers caressed the steering wheel. “Are you always so defensive?”

  Olivia sat up straighter. Her fingers tightened around her purse. “I’m not defensive. I don’t see how you could come to that conclusion. I was simply… ” She felt his laughter more than she heard it, and then she heard herself, the echo of her defense bouncing around in her brain. She snapped her head toward him and caught the smirk wavering around his lips. She lowered her head and began to laugh. “I do sound a little on edge and full of myself,” she ruefully admitted.

  “If you say so,” he teased. He made a right turn that led to the main road heading into town.

  Olivia began to relax.

  “Why do you think that is?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Why you throw up guards and raise the bridge to the moat.”

  Olivia sputtered a laugh. “A moat? Really?”

  “Bad analogy, but you get what I mean. No offense,” he quickly added, his voice laced with humor.

  “None taken.”

  “So… ” He slowed the car, then turned into the parking lot reserved for the customers of Misty’s.

  “Old habits,” she quietly confessed.

  Connor put the car in Park, turned to look at her. “I know all about that.” His light-filled eyes glided across her face. He unsnapped his belt and then hers. He placed the tip of his finger beneath her chin. “How about we start some new habits.”

  She swallowed.

  Connor slowly moved toward her until the world disappeared and the sweet heat of his mouth touched down on her, and there was nothing she could do to hold back the moan that rose from the center of her being. He gently sucked on her bottom lip before turning away and getting out of the car in a single movement.

  Olivia’s heart banged in her chest. The heat in her head was so intense that it rushed downward and flowed through her limbs.

  Connor pulled her door open, extended his hand and helped her to her feet. He pushed the door closed with his free hand. “Ready?”

  All she could manage was a slight nod. Connor wrapped his fingers around hers, enveloping them, and led her to the entrance of Misty’s.

  The club was abuzz with activity. Many of the circular tables were full. The couple was quickly greeted by a hostess.

  “Welcome to Misty’s. Do you have a reservation?”

  “Yes. Lawson,” Connor said.

  The young woman checked the computer screen then looked up at them with a bright smile. “Your table is ready and waiting.” She signaled to one of the waitstaff, who led them around the tables to one that was close to the stage.

  “Can I get you something to drink before you order?” the waitress asked while placing menus in front of each of them.

  “Bourbon. Neat.” Connor turned to Olivia.

  “I’ll have an apple martini.”

  “Very good. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

  Olivia settled in her seat and took a look around. “Very nice,” she said, taking in the intimate decor that was reminiscent of The Blue Note in the West Village in New York.

  “I’ve only been here once before but it was a good experience — that I wanted to share with you.” The flame flickering in the glass centerpiece lit his eyes and made them sparkle.

  Before Olivia could respond the waitress returned with their drinks. “Can I get you something to start?” She looked from one to the other.

  “Maybe you could give us a few minutes.”

  “Of course.” She spun away.

  “Prompt service,” Olivia said with a chuckle.

  “All the signs of a good evening.” He lifted his glass.

  Olivia did the same.

  “To forming new habits.”

  Olivia’s glossed lips quirked with a smile. She touched her glass to his.

  Connor took a swallow of his drink. “So… tell me, what do I need to know about Olivia Gray that isn’t on your very impressive résumé?” He studied the way her gaze slipped away for a moment and a brief shadow passed quickly across her face.

  Olivia set her glass down and met his stare with one of her own. “My résumé? You’ve been checking up on me?” She wrapped her fingers around her glass.

  He gave a dismissive shrug. “I always
want to know who I’m dealing with… in business and pleasure.”

  She blinked against his directness. She would not let him rattle her, she silently swore. Clearing her throat, she replied, “Pretty much what you see on paper is who I am.” That was as close to the truth as even she knew it. There was so much about her life that was a dark hole, a hole that she’d dug herself out of, and Olivia had no intention of taking that journey again.

  “I find it hard to believe that a woman like you is no more than data and degrees. What do you enjoy… when you’re not working?”

  She tugged in a breath and dropped the armor back into place. “Good food.” She grinned. “I think if I’d chosen another profession it would have been a chef.”

  Connor grinned. “Really? Favorite dish.”

  “Hmm, smoked salmon with my very special sauce, asparagus spears and risotto.”

  “You think it can top my jambalaya, Cajun-style?”

  She tipped her head to the right. “Is that some kind of challenge?”

  “Ready when you are.” His brow arched.

  “You’re on.”

  “My place or yours?”

  The conversation was clearly taking a swift turn in a dangerous direction, but Olivia repeated her mantra. She would not be rattled. “Mine.”

  “Say when and I’m there.”

  The waitress returned. “Ready to order appetizers?”

  They both picked up their menus and simultaneously ordered the wine-cooked mussels. Over the tops of their menus their gazes connected.

  “I think one will be sufficient,” Connor said. He lowered his menu and got a smile of confirmation from Olivia.

  The waitress hustled away.

  “Great minds think alike,” he said in response to their order. “Now, you were in the middle of divulging some intimate secret.”

  Olivia sputtered a laugh. “Oh, I was, was I? And here I thought you’d just agreed to a challenge that I can guarantee you will lose.”

  “A woman who doesn’t back down. I like that. A lot.” He took another swallow of his drink.