CHAPTER 11

Connor shook Tristen Bell’s hand and pulled him close enough to slap his back in a friendly man-hug, getting a warning growl from the massive Bernese mountain dog sitting at his friend’s feet.

“Don’t mind him. Maxwell Richards III is a friendly old coot,” said Tristen.

“Quite the name.” Connor gave the dog a scratch behind the ears and, seemingly satisfied, the big animal wandered off to collapse in the shade of a large maple.

“He came with it.”

Connor sized up the former real estate tycoon. He was trim and fit, his hair a bit longer than the sharp-edged Bay Street image Connor was used to. In fact, Tristen had adopted somewhat of a casual, woodsy style.

“You look ten years younger than when I last saw you in Toronto. Are you doing some hot young thing?” Connor’s attention moved to the large, renovated cottage sitting behind him. “They’ve got to be crawling all over you.”

His friend laughed. “Are you kidding? After the way my ex-wife took me to the cleaners there’s no way I’m getting on that horse anytime soon. Even for a one-nighter.”

“How’d she get the better lawyer?”

Tristen laughed again and tipped his head as though asking Connor how much he wanted to hear. “I pretty much rolled over and played dead.”

“Uh...” Connor shifted, unsure what to say to the toughest negotiator he knew.

“She showed me that nobody liked who I’d become.” Tristen’s face tightened, but before Connor could puzzle it out, the man’s expression turned to one of lightheartedness. “So here I am. Like the place?”

They both looked at the two-story clapboard house, which featured a fair amount of stonework along its bottom.

“Love it.”

“Thanks. Did it all myself.”

“What?” Connor tried to hide his disbelief.

“Kidding. I tried, though. Turns out I’m not great at plumbing or wiring. But I designed what I wanted, and got in there when I could, and helped. Turns out stonework’s my thing. You don’t have to be able to measure things quite as precisely.”

“Stonework?”

Tristen took a few steps to the side and pointed to the chimney that extended up the other side of the building.

“Wow.”

“Did a patio out back, too. Want to see it?”

Connor shrugged, trying not to compare the man’s pride with that of a new parent.

Tristen led him from the parking area and across a veranda that was similar to Maya’s, but in better shape. Rounding a corner of the cottage-turned-year-round home, they found themselves on a stone patio overlooking the water.

“Laid them all myself. I have them in sections in hopes that the frost won’t heave it too badly. So far, so good.”

Connor nodded, his focus drifting to the cushy outdoor furniture sitting under an awning a few feet away. Man, that looked comfortable. And the way his quads were still aching from his dash to save Tigger two days ago, nothing had ever seemed more welcoming.

Tristen moved to a small outdoor kitchen and opened a fridge. “Beer?”

“Yeah.” Connor peered over the small wet bar to check out the space. He withdrew his hand as his friend offered him a bottle. “Actually, you know what? I’m trying to cut back.”

Tristen sized him up, then returned the beer, along with his own. He pulled out two bottles of water instead and passed Connor one. “Going to run a marathon or something?” he asked lightly, taking a seat in the outdoor living room.

“Something like that.” Connor eased himself into a chair, hating the way his abs screamed at him. The good news was that it no longer took him all day to get in one hundred crunches. Too bad it still hurt, as though someone was spearing him repeatedly.

“So? How’s the city? How’s Connor MacKenzie Enterprises? Done any amazing real estate deals since I’ve been gone?” He downed half his water, then set it on the stone-topped table, which was actually more like a large ledge around a built-in fire pit.

Connor licked his lips. The last thing he wanted to do was talk business. He gave a small shake of his head and pointed to the renovated cottage with his bottle. “I love this place. So quiet.” He could almost see Port Carling from their location on the small bay, but not quite. There was a low drone in the background from passing boats heading to town. “Does it get busy?”

“Yeah, weekends in July and August. You can tell when it’s a weekend, like today, but it’s still not too bad. I don’t mind the sound of boats. Smells a hell of a lot better than Toronto’s traffic.” Tristan let out a laugh and crossed one leg over the other, slinging an arm over the back of his seat.

“Ever miss the city?”

“Never.”

“Yeah. I’m not missing it as much as I thought I would.”

“How long have you been out here?” Tristen asked.

“Less than a week.”

“How long are you taking?”

“Two weeks, I guess. One left to go.”

“Good on you.”

Connor sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s weird, though. I’m not as stressed about being disconnected as I think I should be.”

Tristen nodded, taking another gulp of his water. “Once you get over the withdrawal, it doesn’t seem as vital any longer, does it? As though it loses its meaning.”

Connor fidgeted with the label on his bottle of water.

“So?” his friend asked.

Connor looked up to find Tristen watching him in a way that told him the man knew exactly why he was there.

“I’m burned out.” He rubbed his forehead, feeling haggard, washed up.

“Well, a vacation is a good start.” His friend’s brow furrowed and he focused on the water below. “I thought you’d be the type to work until you dropped.”

“Apparently I’m at risk for a heart attack, stroke…the works.” Connor took another swallow of water, hoping to dispel the desperate lump that had formed in his throat.

“You’re pulling my leg!” Tristen sat forward, echoing Connor’s pose, with elbows resting on the faded knees of his jeans.

“Wish I was.” He took a few more gulps of water, struggling against the undertow of emotions.

“What are you going to do?”

Connor swallowed hard. He took in the quiet getaway Tristen had created for himself. “How…” He cleared his throat. “How did you…”

“Leave it all?” The large dog had found them, and he plopped his massive head in Tristen’s lap, momentarily distracting him. He roughed up the dog’s head affectionately, then tipped his own head back and forth a few times so Connor couldn’t tell if he was imitating the dog or weighing his reply.

“Well,” Tristen said finally, “how much do you know about my final year in Toronto?”

“Not much. I went to call you one day and you’d pulled up stakes.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t in a good space when I left.”

“Understandable.”

Tristen let out a long breath. “Basically, I was working too much. You know how it is. I never saw the wife or the kid. She wanted another, but I was never around, and so it never happened. You know how all that goes. You try and make them happy with the big house, the diamonds, and the Escalade in the driveway. Anyway, she got tired of it and left me. Got a fancy lawyer. Same story as half the guys on Bay Street. But I was tired and began to wonder why I’d done it all. Why did I make all those cutthroat deals and rise like cream if she didn’t care and it didn’t make her happy? Work and deals lost their meaning when she left me. It may sound odd, but I discovered I didn’t know her, my kid, my friends or even myself. So I gave her half the business, then sold my half and said good luck.”

“You walked?”

“Yep.” He leaned back, crossed his legs again. “I came up here, bought this fixer-upper in October three years ago. Been renovating it ever since.”

“You’re not working?”

“I have savings. She got only half, right? Don’t need a lot other than for renovations. Oh, and taxes. The taxes around here are enough to give you a coronary. But I love it. It’s quiet. The neighbors are hardly ever around. Deer walk through my yard. Nobody is yelling at you for letting squirrels live in your trees, or if you don’t rake your leaves and they blow into someone’s yard. It’s peaceful in all the ways I need.”

“Being retired, don’t you miss working?”

“Of course. Anyway, I couldn’t pull out entirely. I still sell a little real estate here and there, but nothing major. And I don’t try to undercut people anymore. I got tired of being that hard-assed, ruthless son of a bitch everyone admired but dreaded, you know? Everyone deserves a fair deal.”

Connor nodded, understanding where Tristen was coming from. People were in awe of Connor and his success, but also jealous and sometimes snarky about it. Especially if he came up well ahead of someone else in a deal.

“So, did it…” Connor leaned back, enjoying the comfort of the cushions, unsure how to frame his next question. “Your identity…”

Tristen gave him a crooked smile that had to be a hit with the ladies, and said, “My pride and vanity? Did it take a hit?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure you don’t want a beer?”

“Trying hard not to die here, man.”

Tristen leaned forward. “It’s that bad?”

Connor nodded, and his friend tucked his shaggy hair behind his ear, his broad shoulders stretching his shirt with the mild effort. “Well, you know what they say. Work hard until you retire, then die the next day. You’re just such an overachiever that you’re trying to have it all now.”

“That’s why we’re friends, man. You always dish your manure fresh and straight up.”

Tristen laughed, but suddenly turned serious. “Yeah, it hurt my pride a little. Still does when people from my past act as though I broke down or something. But the thing is the so-called ‘hole in the world’ that I left back in Toronto got filled in pretty damn fast. Some other guy stepped up and took my place. People probably don’t even remember me anymore. I wasn’t as vital or as irreplaceable as I had believed. And yeah, my name is on a lot of papers for some major building projects and land deals in the city, but nobody is going to create a statue or name a park for me. My daughter doesn’t even know what my favorite color is. How sad and pathetic is that? She still sends me a tie for my birthday. That’s how little we know each other.”

“She doesn’t come out?”

“She’s seventeen.”

Connor didn’t have a wife on the horizon, but he could see how any relationship he might start could very well end the way Tristen’s had if he didn’t make some major lifestyle changes.

“You gonna quit the rat race?” his friend asked. “I know of a nice little year-rounder not too far from here that you could get at a fair price. Needs a bit of winterizing, but it would allow you to modernize it at the same time.”

Connor laughed. “You’re still the same guy, angling for a commission, aren’t you?”

Tristen’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “If you quit the rat race, you can’t go cold turkey, Connor. That kills men like us. You need a project even if it’s joining the Lions Club or serving coffee at the local coffee shop three days a week. Don’t just go pulling the plug, or it will get pulled on you. You know what I mean?”

Connor’s heart lurched. Was his cold turkey vacation going to cause him to keel over?

“I can see what you’re thinking,” Tristen said. “Vacations are okay. You need them. What I’m talking about is for you to ease out—if you’re considering pulling out. Or throw yourself into something new. Fill yourself with something fresh and rewarding.”

“Like a job.” Why did that sound so unappealing to his ears?

“Or a girl.”

“Are you looking? I hear they have a thing for old money and you’re last name rings a bell in that regard. Pun intended.”

“Always looking.” Tristen shot him a wink. “But never seeking, my friend.”

Connor smiled and finished his bottle of water. The idea of coordinating a transfer out of the rat race was exhilarating but also exhausting.

* * *

Maya stared at the pages sent from Accounting. How on earth was this math supposed to add up to the lumberyard being worth that much? Yes, everything balanced, but some of those numbers couldn’t be correct. Knowing she’d get an earful, she hiked up the hill to perform due diligence, trying to talk herself out of making the call. There were more pros than cons to contacting the office. In fact, the only con would be that James would get bent out of shape again—but only if Em told him that Maya had called. And she could handle that if it meant she could finally rest assured before Connor signed the deal.

She punched in the number for Em’s home phone and paced a path through the underbrush on top of the hill.

“Em? It’s Maya. Sorry,” she added quickly. “It’s the weekend and I know I’m a pain, but I can’t get the math to work for the sawmill.”

“Maya, we have—”

“Accountants, I know. But I can’t figure out how Connor is going to come out ahead on this deal. I know I’m just an assistant, but I can’t ignore this, as I simply can’t see a sawmill being worth this much. And why would he want a lumberyard in the first place?”

“I have a call coming in,” Em said. “I’ll phone you back in a few minutes, okay?”

“Fine,” Maya grumbled. She hung up the phone and rested its cool plastic against her chin. A boat puttered into the strait and Maya hurried down the hill, wondering if it was Connor returning from his trip ashore to visit his friend. When she got within sight of the dock, she relaxed. It was Connor. Smiling, she made her way to his side as the man in the boat pushed off. He was handsome. And familiar.

“Who was that?” she asked Connor.

“Tristen Bell.”

“Oh, a Bell.”

“Yeesh. Women and old money.”

Maya laughed. “There are a few of them around these parts, you know.” She gave him a haughty smile. “Plus, I’ll have you know that some of us are looking for love. Not someone with a big fat bank account and a name that makes gold diggers woozy.”

“That’s what they all say until you buy them a Porsche.” He slung an arm around her shoulders and she hoped he wasn’t planning on having her support him all the way up the hill. Her ribs were still tender where Daphne had landed on her, and he was pushing against the sore spot. “So, what did you do this afternoon?” he asked. “Enjoy having the cottage all to yourself?”

“Yeah, an afternoon off because your incoming work slows on weekends.” She snorted and pushed his arm off her shoulder as they moseyed up the path. “I sunbathed nude on the dock and had an orgy in the woods.”

“Damn. I missed all the fun.”

“Yep.” Her cell started ringing, and she hurried back to the dock for better reception. “I’ll see you up there,” she said to Connor.

“Boyfriend thanking you for the orgy?” He waggled his eyebrows.

She held up the phone. “It’s Em.”

She answered the phone, hoping he’d take the hint and leave so she could say whatever came to mind without worrying about him interrupting or getting offended with whatever cockamamie idea popped out.

“Hi, Maya here.”

“Hello. Maya? I’m not sure how much I can help you with the lumberyard deal. Maybe I could put you in contact with someone on James’s team.”

“I’d rather get your vibe on this first.” Maya stared out across the water, her attention drifting to where they were building a new cottage. Everything was changing. Everything was uncertain. But nothing was heading where she wanted it to go. Heck, she hadn’t even heard the usual chaos emitting from the far side of Baby Horseshoe Island, where the teen camp was.

“Is something amiss in the state of Denmark?” Connor asked, startling her.

Maya held her thumb over the phone’s speaker. “I can’t vouch for Denmark, but I think Toronto might be a safe bet.” She waved him away, ignoring how he was rubbing his chest as he did whenever she got in deep with his business, and moved to the end of the dock.

“So, what do you need?” Em asked.

Maya lowered her voice, flicking her gaze over her shoulder to ensure that Connor was, indeed, heading up to the cottage. “The sawmill doesn’t fit Connor’s profile. I can’t see how he’s going to make money from owning it. And its valuation seems inflated.”

“Connor has gone over everything already. In this economy it is good to diversify and have some primary industries in your portfolio.”

“It feels like a bailout.”

“James knows what he’s doing.”

“Did he bring this deal to Connor?”

“As far as I know.”

“Em? Is this a bad time for Connor to take a vacation?”

“It’s never a good time for the CEO to leave the office.”

Maya pushed a hand through her curls, wanting to get Em to the point where they could discuss office conspiracies, as she had at least one in mind.

“You can trust me, Em. I need your help to figure out why I have a bad feeling about this deal. We need to save Connor.” She glanced up the hill to where he was finally disappearing into the dusk and trees. “Is there a relationship between anyone working on the deal and the lumberyard owner, maybe? A connection? Anything?”

“I can look into it. You really think something is up?”

“Do you think it’s possible someone other than CME might be benefiting from this deal?”

“It is a possibility,” Em said carefully. “When you’re dealing with millions of dollars and massive deals, people can get greedy. But they’re signing in less than a week, Maya. The timing on all of this is very inconvenient.”

“Then we’d better hurry. You search for connections and I’ll dig deeper into the valuation. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Maya hung up and wondered how someone such as Connor could let something like this slip past him. Was James really that good, or was she that far off the mark?

* * *

“Maya, stuff like this happens all the time.” Connor downed the last of his orange juice and pushed away from the table. He needed to escape before she had him several hours deep into her projects. It had been all he could do to walk away from her and her call with Em last night on the dock.

“This is important, Connor. Imagine you had a child with a cleft palate and cleft lip. Wouldn’t you want little baby MacKenzie to feel less pain before and after reconstructive surgery? To have the best shot at proper healing? These guys have an invention that will ensure that. Medical devices are a growth industry—five percent per year. It’ll be a home run, Connor. They just can’t get the licensing in place in time to give this thing a real shot at making it.”

Damn her. She was making him feel, making that tug to jump in so friggin’ irresistible.

“So?” he said. “You’ve been to business school. Use your connections to nudge things along.”

“My connections?”

He almost laughed at her confused tone. “Yeah, you know. The people you hung out with. Built connections with, added to your network. Hobnobbing?”

She stared at her plate, face blank.

“You did network?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course!”

“So then, get on your phone. See who can help you out.”

Maya smiled and pushed away from the table.

“Finish your breakfast first.”

She promptly pulled her chair back in place. Laughing, Connor walked to his room to put on his trunks. Today he would try swimming around the island, and spend the afternoon thinking about early retirement and whether it was something he should implement.

He took his time going down the winding path to the water, breathing in the summer morning air. Closing his eyes, he tried a new method of being present in the moment, counting the number of bird species he heard calling to each other. The distinctive chick-a-dee-dee-dee of the chickadee, the knocking of a woodpecker. A nuthatch walking upside down on a tree to his right. Damn. He’d opened his eyes. He sucked at being present.

Ditching his towel and sandals on a chair, he dived into the lake, coming up several feet from the dock. He slowly warmed up with a back crawl, determined to make it around the island by taking it easy.

The water felt good, and he wondered if he’d be able to keep swimming when he returned to the city. It would have to become part of his routine. He laughed and choked on a mouthful of water. There was no way swimming would stay in his routine once he returned. A few late night meetings and he’d sleep through his opportunity to swim. Add an early morning meeting, and soon he’d be completely out of the habit.

He needed to find a way to have it all. Being away from the office for a week without contact hadn’t been nearly as bad as he’d feared. He was even beginning to enjoy not having anything pulling at his attention. He could stay with one line of thought without distraction.

On the far side of the island, the current turned against him, and the waves grew as the wind ripped across the open lake. Hugging the shore, Connor took his time, watching for places he could climb out if need be. The way the waves were eroding the bank here and there created small inlets that he could possibly use if he didn’t mind getting dirty.

A few minutes later he found himself back between the two islands, sheltered from the waves and wind.

Almost there.

When he reached the dock again, he smiled and swam to shore so he could walk out of the water instead of trying to haul himself up onto the dock with his burning arms.

He heard a light, friendly voice, and spotted Maya on the dock. When she saw him emerging from the water like a sea monster, she turned away, holding her cell to her ear.

She was reminding someone who she was and where they had met.

Good, the girl was contacting her network.

He stood on the dock in a growing pool of lake water. He smiled and toweled himself dry. He felt strong. Alive. Virile.

This morning he’d awoken to a partial. Better than what he’d had in ages. The hope he’d felt—the relief—was overwhelming to the point of tears. He could fix himself. In one week he would be at his brother’s wedding as best man, and he was going to look good.

He gazed at Maya’s long legs from under his towel as he rubbed it through his hair. She shifted position, her frustrated mood revealing itself even though her voice hid it perfectly. She clicked off the phone and turned to him, the smile on her face tight.

“What?” he asked.

“You made it around the island?” Her voice still had that light, friendly tone she’d been using on the phone, but he could tell her calls hadn’t gone well.

“I did. Did you go?” She shook her head. “Why not?”

“Lots of work to do.”

“Don’t sacrifice your health for my work.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’m not. I just know what should be a priority.”

“Because you’ve been good at following them?”

“No, I haven’t. That’s why I know what they are.” He tossed his towel on the chair beside him and squared off with Maya. “You find someone to help?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because apparently my network doesn’t remember who the hell I am.”

“Ah.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the boathouse. He couldn’t help but smile. He’d met so many ambitious people similar to Maya, who knew everything, except how to hang out and be human, not realizing that human connections were still ninety percent of business. “You handed out cards like they were candy at a parade, but didn’t chat up the crowd?”

“There wasn’t time. And anyway, people don’t need me nattering on about stupid things, or acting like a desperate student or grad.”

“Maybe they do.” He watched her for a moment. “How many people remembered you?”

Maya turned to stalk up the path, and Connor called out, “Try Nolan McKinley. Tell him I sent you. Get his direct line from Em.”

Maya turned slowly. “Thank you. I will.”

“And take the time to be friendly and real. It’s not all just business, you know. Remember? It’s like dating.”

“You sound like my sisters and mother.”

“Smart women.”

“Apparently,” Maya said with a heavy sigh. 

* * *

Connor straightened his tie and studied himself in the mirror above the bureau. Was he too dressed up for a movie? What was Maya wearing? Man, he hadn’t been this nervous getting ready for a date since high school, and going to Finian’s new film with Maya and her sister and that dumbass tree guy wasn’t even a real date.

He needed to stop thinking. The more he thought about Maya these days, the more he found that his own life wanted to blend with hers. It was as if the old Connor had been an immovable, impenetrable statue made of metal, which had somehow rusted while he’d been busy digging through never-ending paper. Now he felt that, if he reached out to touch it, that statue would crumble before him, becoming nothing more than a pile of oxidized dust.

Who was he? He had no clue.

Connor buttoned his shirt cuffs and studied his reflection again. Whoever he was, he looked pretty good. Almost like the old Connor who used to take on the world.

He dug through his bag for his wallet, and wondered what Toronto would be like without Maya. What if she moved to the city? Would he be able to feel her presence the way he did on the island? Would they meet up for drinks after work? And the bigger question, would he finally get his gearshift working, and be able to treat her as a real man should?

He sighed and adjusted his fly. Not even forty and his johnson was letting him down.

Connor entered the living room and found Maya waiting for him. She took him in, not breathing, then turned away, busying herself with finding the boat key, which he’d noticed was always kept on the mantel.

“Do I look okay?” he asked. He immediately felt like a woman for the way he cared way too much about what her answer would be.

“It’s just a small-town movie theater. You’re fine.” She lifted out the skirt of her dress. It was something soft that clung to her curves in a way that made him want to create a sculpture of her. She was a Greek goddess, demure and incredible, easily the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He reached for her, then pulled back his hand. He had to keep his focus. He needed her, but he wasn’t ready. Not yet. He had to make sure he was worth the wait, because he knew she would be.

If she was still there.

* * *

Maya couldn’t look at Connor. If she did she might be tempted to run a hand down his arm, and he’d been giving off weird vibes. Was being on a fake date with his assistant bothering him? If so, then why had he stepped in and offered to go with her?

Because he was a nice guy. He’d saved her from going on a blind date with one of Shawn’s friends, then turned around and saved her niece. And right now, he was also helping Daphne by going out tonight. He probably didn’t even want to be on a date with Maya.

Wait, did he like Daphne? Was that why he’d offered? He wanted to be closer to Daph?

Maya glanced at him as she parked down the street from the movie house. No, he couldn’t. He didn’t. Not the way he looked at her. Maya was the only one. Or at least the only one this week.

Maybe Connor didn’t find her sexy.

Maybe he knew their night of getting it on had been too much, gone too far. She’d been too forward. Too bold. But he was an alpha, a powerful businessman. Why the hell would he want demure? She’d seen the way he responded when she came on to him. He wanted her, and he loved it when she pushed him and tried to steal his control. It was a game they both enjoyed. So what the hell was going on? What did she need to do so he’d drag her into bed and satisfy her needs?

She pressed the tips of her fingers into her forehead. That wasn’t a very ladylike thought, but nothing about Connor made her want to act like a lady.

Men. They were more confusing than a messed up Rubik’s Cube. All she wanted to do was peel off the stickers and put them back on the way they were supposed to be.

“You okay?” Connor asked.

“Yeah, great.” If wearing one’s sexiest dress and being barely looked at was the new definition of great.

Wow. She was officially driving herself crazy. Connor was her boss. He was here as her pretend date. End of story.

She yanked on the parking break, knowing she should have stayed back at the cottage and worked. Sitting beside Connor for two hours would either make her want to jump his bones or else think about work. And chances were it would be the latter, given all the emails she’d have to deal with when she got back to the cottage.

“I wish Hailey was here.” Maya palmed her car keys, missing her eldest sister. Maybe it was knowing that Hailey was living a new life—a whirlwind one with a movie star that was already sweeping her away to new worlds where the rest of the sisters couldn’t go, and couldn’t relate to.

“She’s in Hollywood?” Connor asked.

“Yeah, celebrating the movie’s release with Finian. She’s such a colossal pain in the ass, and acts as though she’s solely responsible for our lives. However, she deserves the way hers is finally taking off.” Now if only Maya’s would, too. Maybe that was why she was so edgy tonight. It was as though she was on the verge of missing something important in life and she didn’t know what it was, only that it was slipping away. “Do you have siblings?”

“Yeah, I have a brother.” Connor’s voice was quiet.

“So you know what it’s like.”

“Sure.”

“You don’t get along?”

“Nah, we do,” he said quickly. He opened his car door, his moves tight, as though he was holding back emotion.

Very curious.

She allowed him to take her hand and lead her past the small park beside the theater, not letting go as they stood in line. She felt jittery trying to figure out what his hand-holding meant. Casually, she allowed her chest to rub his arm as she checked behind his tall build for her family. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and the tune he’d been humming faltered. Okay, so she did have an effect on him. Major relief on not being alone on that one.

Daphne, laughing and smiling, met them in line.

“Where’s Shawn?” Maya asked.

“He canceled. I think he’s afraid of Connor.” She grinned up at Connor, who let out a laugh before apologizing.

“Where’s the little munchkin?” he asked.

“Babysitter. This is an action flick.”

Connor smiled, his attention distant. “Right.”

What was going on with him? Why all the distance? But at the same time, he was still holding Maya’s hand. Which felt great—she didn’t want him to let go. Not ever.

Melanie joined them, her hair tucked in a ponytail, no contacts. “Were we supposed to bring a date?” She glanced down at her baggy shirt and paint-splattered capris.

“Um, Melanie, this is Connor MacKenzie…my boss.” Maya gave her a pleading look, hoping she would let his presence slide.

“Hello.” Melanie shook her head, grinning in a way that made Maya want to rattle some sense into her. He was her boss. Quit grinning like that! Yes, Connor was a major, totally beddable hunk, but he also had a big say in where her future went from here.

“Um, Maya?” Daphne asked tentatively.

“Hmm?”

“Weren’t you going to bring Mom?”

“Say wha—shit!” Maya checked her watch, laid a hand on Connor’s arm and said, “Wait here. I’ll be back in a flash.”

Melanie sighed and began walking off. “I’ll go get her.”

“No, I will. Besides, didn’t you drive your moped?”

“It’s a full motorbike.”

“You’re not taking Mom on that thing.” Maya backed away from the group. “Really, I’ll return soon! Save Mom and me seats.”

Melanie, arms crossed, raised her eyebrows in amusement.

Connor strode toward Maya. “I’ll come with you.”

“It’s okay. We might miss the beginning.”

“I want to go where you go.”

That sounded amazingly great. Was there time for her to lead him somewhere sexy and romantic, where clothes weren’t even an option, such as her bed? Because that was where she really wanted to go.

* * *

Maya squealed her tires as she pulled into the parking lot of the nursing home. There in the entry was her mother, waiting in her wheelchair. Was Maya the worst daughter in the world or what? Never mind what Connor must think of her.

She hustled up the ramp and through the automatic doors, putting on a cheerful smile. “Hi, Mom! How are you?” Without waiting for an answer, she began wheeling her outside.

“I thought you were going to be here—oh!” Catherine stared up at Connor, who had come out of the car, handsome and welcoming.

“You must be Maya’s mother, Mrs. Summer. I’m Connor MacKenzie, her boss over on Nymph Island, for the time being. You have a fine, smart daughter, Mrs. Summer.”

Maya shot Connor a relieved smile as her mother grinned up at him, her mood lightening. “Call me Catherine, sugar.”

Connor gave her a lopsided grin. “Sure thing, Catherine sugar.”

Her mom laughed, and Maya wheeled her to the passenger side as Connor held the door for them.

“And how are you enjoying Nymph Island?” Catherine asked him.

He moved to help her into the car, while Maya quickly unlocked the chair and flipped it flat so she could put it in the trunk. He replied, “It is wonderful. Very quiet and relaxing.”

“Some might say magical,” her mother teased.

Maya slammed the trunk closed. “Mom, don’t start.” She checked Connor’s reaction, hoping he didn’t think her mother was off her rocker.

“I saw fairy houses,” he said. “What are those about?”

Maya replied quickly, “Just a tradition. It’s…it’s nothing.” Her mother gave her a look of understanding as Maya took the driver’s seat, Connor making himself at home in the back.

There was nothing like taking your boss on a date with your mother, and talking about the mystical beings she secretly believed in.

Outside the theater, Connor gently elbowed Maya out of the way, taking care with Catherine in a way that lit her up from the inside with pleasure and adoration. Maya knew the feeling, as the man had a way about him. No wonder she’d forgotten to pick up her mom: Maya was living with the guy.

As Connor pushed the wheelchair up to the ticket window, she nudged his arm, mouthing “Thank you.” He gave a nod, seeming almost bashful. He was so real, so present, she wanted to hug him and never let go.

Simone stepped out of the lobby before they could ask for tickets. “It’s sold out. Come on, I have your tickets and Mellie saved seats.”

“Thank you.” Maya gave her a hug, funneling all the appreciation she felt for Connor toward her friend.

“Oof! You’re welcome. I’ll let you sit beside the hunk if you let go.”

Laughing, Maya released her, and followed Connor, who was still pushing her mother’s chair. He parked it in the dark cinema beside the row of familiar faces, and Maya let out a gasp as Finian took to the screen. He seemed so large. So real. So…so like someone Hailey should be with. Forever.

“I can’t believe your sister had sex with him,” Simone announced. A few people nearby laughed, having heard about the whirlwind fire-and-ice romance the two had begun only weeks prior.

“I knew Hailey would be good for him!” called a knowing voice a few rows back.

“Wilma Star, is that you?” asked their mother, peering through the dark.

“To rights it is. How are you Catherine? I told my cousin back in Blueberry Springs—”

 A chorus of shushing silenced the woman who then whispered loudly, “I’ll catch up with you later so we don’t get thrown out for chatting.”

“Come for poker night at the home, Wilma. It’s Tuesdays at three.”

“I hate to break it to you, honey, but that’s not ‘night’.” Mrs. Star laughed and the shushing got more insistent.

“This is like knowing a movie star by proxy,” Connor whispered.

“You know him once removed,” Maya whispered back, as she got settled in the seat beside him.

The movie was great, but the best part was how halfway through it Connor placed his arm around her shoulder, drawing her against his side.

Oh, yes. Good things were going to happen between them. Again.

* * *

Connor held the door to the cottage for Maya, then closed it behind them. He loved her perfume. How gentle and flowery it was—a complete contradiction to the woman he’d come to know and admire.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw a movie in a real theater,” he said as she switched on a battery-operated lantern.

“Really?” Maya turned to him in the kitchen’s weak light, her body nudging up against his as they stumbled into each other. He placed his arms around her to steady them, burying his nose in her hair.

“You smell good.” He inhaled the scents that had clung to her, hiding beneath her perfume. “Sunshine, lake water, sunscreen and popcorn. You are a perfect summer scent.”

“You smell pretty awesome yourself, Connor.”

He grinned at the compliment. “It’s the aftershave.”

“Power, money, and seduction.”

He laughed and grasped her arms, holding her in front of him as his eyes adjusted to the light. “Money, power, and seduction?” This woman was going to destroy him, she was such a turn-on. How was he going to continue to resist her? How was he not going to reveal his cards? Because when she saw him unable to…

He spun her around so her back was to him. Time for a distraction. Maybe give her another orgasm, then disappear so she’d never have to know how broken he was, and how far he was from being the man she deserved.

He could have anything he wanted in the world except the one thing he craved.

Maya lowered her head to the side so he could place his lips on the spot where her neck and shoulder joined, and he skimmed her waist with his hands. She pressed into him and his touch crept higher, lightly gliding over the sides of her breasts, then up to her neck. He trailed his fingertips down the delicate bare skin, continuing as though gravity was in control, lightening his touch as it traveled over her collarbone. She shivered and he allowed his hands to explore of their own accord. Over the swell of her chest, across her hard nipples and down to her rib cage, where he gripped her, spinning her back around to face him, lowering his mouth to hers.

Her tongue licked his lips, wrestled with his own as the two of them fell against the fridge, needing its support as their bodies clicked into overdrive. Their kissing frantic, they bumped their way to the counter, Maya’s hands running wild over Connor’s back, his neck. Through his hair. Cupping his butt. He shoved his hips against hers and swept an arm across the countertop, knocking things off in his frustration and an unreleasable sexual buildup.

She pushed him away, toward the bedrooms.

He couldn’t. He reached in front of her and closed her bedroom door before she could enter, pinning her against its solid wood panel. There was no way he could leave her like this, but no way he could expose his secret.

He placed her hands against the door frame like an officer preparing to frisk her. Moving his crotch to her ass, he ran his palms down her front, over her legs, shimmying her dress up her thighs in a move so slow he knew it would try her patience. He breathed on her neck as he explored the front of her panties, then her bare stomach, her head dropping back onto his shoulder when his caresses hit her just right.

“I want you in my bed, naked, Connor.”

“Patience, Maya. It will be worth it when the time comes.”

She spun in his arms. “The time is now.”

“No, it’s not.”

He danced his fingers over her shoulders, sliding them into the neckline of her stretchy dress, letting it drop to the floor. “My terms, Maya.” He skated his hands over her lingerie, loving the smooth satin, and the way he could feel the damp warmth between her legs as he petted her slowly, softly.

“What about what I want?”

“Trust me, spitfire. Our dreams will collide when the time is right.”