Chapter Seven
Marissa turned to face Connor. “No, thank you.”
“Step aside.” When she hesitated, he put his hands on her shoulders and gently moved her. Marissa instantly felt the impression of his fingers through her thin T-shirt. Unexpected flares of awareness hummed from her head to her toes. His touch was brief but created such a powerful reaction that Marissa didn’t know what to do about it.
This was the first time Connor had touched her since she’d returned to Hopeful and he’d already released her from his hold physically. But emotionally she felt a connection that took her back to their days together. And that totally disconcerted her.
If she responded so intensely to a passing contact, she could only imagine what a more intimate exchange might be like. The chemistry that had burned so brightly all those years ago was still present for her. Which made Connor dangerous to her peace of mind.
“You can just leave it here,” she said the instant he entered her apartment.
“You plan on sleeping in your hallway? Don’t be silly.” He carried the headboard to her bedroom. He slid it into place and eyed her entire bed. “Hey, I recognize this.”
Connor remembered the bed from the one time that he’d stolen into her bedroom when her parents were out. He’d parked his car a block away.
“Your mom came home early and almost caught us. I had to crawl out your bedroom window and climb down that old oak tree.”
“You don’t remember me but you remember the bed?” she said. “That’s just weird.”
“I don’t forget something like that.”
“Like what?” Like loving her? Like thinking she was “the one”?
“Like almost getting caught by an angry parent,” he said.
That figures. It was all about him. Not her. She refused to show how much that fact aggravated her. “I’m surprised. I would have thought it would have happened to you a lot in high school.”
“All through high school, I went steady with Becka and her parents adored me. They were very liberal about house rules so there was no need to crawl out of windows and risk breaking my neck climbing down a huge tree.”
“Isn’t that just peachy for you.” She quickly moved aside but tripped over a plastic box sitting on the floor. She ended up making a swan dive onto her mattress. Since Connor reached out to grab her, she pulled him down with her. He rolled so he didn’t squish her.
They faced each other. She was so close she could see all the hard-to-decipher colors in his eyes. At the moment they seemed more gray than green or blue. His eye color was as hard to pin down as the man himself.
Yet here she was, pressed against him. She could feel the beat of his heart against the palm of her hand braced on his chest. They were both wearing worn jeans but he looked much sexier in his than she did in hers.
At the moment, which seemed frozen in time, sex was all she could think about. She knew she should move but she couldn’t seem to actually do it. Would kissing him be as good as she remembered? Did she dare find out?
No, she couldn’t risk it. Not yet. Spurred by fear, she leapt off the bed as if catapulted.
“Sorry about that,” she said, determined to sound nonchalant and blasé. “I didn’t mean to squish you like a pancake.”
He got to his feet much slower than she did. “No problem. You didn’t squish me.”
Of course there was a problem as far as Marissa was concerned. A huge gigantic problem. She was still attracted to Connor. She couldn’t let him see that. So she calmly walked out of the bedroom instead of shoving him out the door like a frenzied maniac.
He looked around the living/dining area with its meager furnishings.
“So are the rest of your things in storage?” he said.
“What?”
He pointed behind her. “Your things.”
“This is everything.”
The surprised look on his face made her regret her honesty. She didn’t want his pity, which she feared would be his next expression. So she took preemptive action by saying, “I’m into minimalism.”
“Even minimalists need a table to eat off of,” he said.
“I’m having one delivered soon.”
“I thought you said this was everything.”
“Everything that I have right now. Tomorrow I’ll have a table and chairs.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. And why do you care about my furniture, anyway? Are you Nate Berkus or something?”
“Who?”
“Never mind. Thanks for your help but I’ve got a lot of stuff to do.” Now she did rush him to the door, careful not to slam it in his face but to act totally normal.
The second he was gone, she called her sister. “Meet me on Chestnut Street. We’re getting that free dining table.”
“You’re in luck. I’m already on Chestnut Street. I was going to surprise you. I’ve already loaded the chairs.” Jess drove a hybrid SUV.
“I’ll be right there,” Marissa said, grabbing her keys.
“No need. One of the Roberts brothers is helping me. Stay put. We’ll bring the furniture later. Sometime tomorrow. We’ve got someplace else to be right now. “
“Okay. Thanks.”
Marissa spent what was left of the day finding a place for her things. Since she had more space than things, that wasn’t real hard. Still, she’d moved things around a few times until she got it the way she wanted. The bedside table on the right or the left? She moved it three times and still couldn’t decide, distracted as she was by the memory of Connor sprawled beside her on the bed.
She made the bed with the new comforter set and sheets her mom had given her as a housewarming present. There. She eyed the results with approval. This was a bed Connor had never seen…and wasn’t likely to anytime soon.
A short time later her nesting mode was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at her door.
Thinking it must be her sister with the table and chairs, she opened it without checking. An Angelo’s Pizza delivery teenager stood there. “I didn’t order a pizza,” she said.
“It’s already paid for,” he said.
“There must be some mistake.”
“No mistake, ma’am.” He handed her the pizza.
She took it while still protesting. “Who paid for it? Hold on.” She grabbed her phone off the kitchen counter and speed dialed her mom. “Did you or Dad order a pizza for me?”
“No. But that was a good idea. Maybe your sister ordered it.”
Marissa eyed the nervous delivery guy suspiciously. “Was it the sheriff? Did he pay for the pizza?”
“I’m not allowed to say, ma’am.”
Okay that was the second time the teenager had called her “ma’am.” Her glare broke down his resistance. “Yes, it was the sheriff.” He took off before she could interrogate him further.
“Why would the sheriff order you a pizza?” Marissa’s mom asked over the phone.
“Never mind. It’s just a mistake,” Marissa said. “I’ll call you later.”
Without waiting to consider the consequences, she marched the few feet to his door and knocked. He opened the door, still wearing the dark blue T-shirt and worn jeans he’d had on earlier.
“I don’t want your pity pizza.” She shoved the box at him.
“Okay. Bad idea.” Connor took the pizza and slammed the door in her face.
Marissa stood there a second, stunned. Then she bammed on his door.
The instant he opened it, she said, “Don’t slam the door on me. That’s rude.”
“So is shoving a pizza in my face.”
He was right. “It wasn’t your face,” she muttered.
“You know what I mean.”
“I was angry.”
“No kidding,” he drawled. “Don’t blame me for the crap your ex did to you.”
His accusation stung. “I don’t. I blame you for the crap you did to me.”
“That was ten years ago. Get over it.”
“I’m trying to.”
“By shoving a pizza at me?”
“Yes.”
“And how’s that working for you?”
“It sucks,” she admitted morosely. “Everything sucks. Except for the pizza. Does Angelo still make the best pizza ever?”
“You haven’t tried it since you’ve been back?”
She shook her head. She didn’t have extra funds for eating out. She’d applied every penny to getting a security deposit for an apartment. Her credit cards were maxed out so she couldn’t get a cash advance. “I’ve been too busy,” she said. “Anyway I’m sorry if I overreacted to the pizza thing. Have a good night.” She turned and hurried toward the haven of her own place.
“Hold on a second.” He put a hand on the box. “It’s still warm. Will you have a hissy fit if I offer it to you?”
Her pride wouldn’t allow her to take his generous offering. But her mouth was watering. She didn’t have much food in the house yet. “That’s okay. But thanks.”
“You’re sure?” He held it out enticingly.
She nodded but couldn’t seem to move away. It’s as if the smell of tomato sauce and cheese and basil had her mesmerized. She blamed it on the pizza, not on Connor.
“Have a slice,” he said. “You know you want to.”
“Maybe just one slice…”
“You can take it with you if you’re afraid to come in.”
“It’s not a matter of being afraid.”
“Right. Well, there is the matter of me having a dining table while you don’t.”
“Only until tomorrow.”
“The pizza won’t last that long. Come in and eat.”
She was weak. She wanted pizza. Badly. Now. She stepped inside. “Just for a minute…”
She vowed she’d set a new record for “eat and run” even as she took a slice and the paper napkin he offered her. Then she had to sit down at his dining room table—a nice pine job that looked like it was handmade—because it was rude to stand there and eat like a feral rabbit. Not that rabbits ate pizza.
She could hear her mom saying “What? Were you raised by wolves? Take your elbows off the table. Close your mouth while chewing.” Marissa had been all of five at the time. She liked to think she had better manners now.
She closed her eyes and briefly focused on the taste of the pizza. “No one makes a pizza like Angelo’s,” she said.
“Mmm.” Apparently Connor’s mom had taught him not to talk with his mouth full as well. A moment later he said, “Would you like a beer?”
She shook her head.
“I ran into Jose earlier today,” Connor said, offering her another slice before taking a second for himself. Seeing her eyes widen, he added, “No, I did not arrest him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
She’d actually been thinking how sexy Connor’s hands were but was not about to make that confession. Instead she kept chewing and enjoying. The thin crust was so crisp and there was something both spicy and sweet about the tomato sauce that made it unique and delicious.
“Apparently he was hired to spray-paint a guy’s car.”
Marissa nodded because her mouth was still full.
“So you knew about that?” Connor said, She nodded again.
“You didn’t think to share that info with me?”
She shook her head and kept chewing.
“Why not?”
She pointed to her mouth, indicating she was unable to reply at the moment.
“I’ll wait,” he said.
She swallowed and dabbed her mouth with the napkin.
“So?” he prompted her.
“Angelo’s Pizza is even better than I remember.” Connor’s touch was also better than she remembered. What had they been talking about? Oh yeah. Jose. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in Jose’s job.”
“We’re supposed to be working together on this project.”
“On Jose’s artwork?”
“You know what I mean,” he said.
“That was something he arranged outside of our group.”
Connor moved the pizza box closer to her, inviting her to take another slice. She took it. Her willpower was clearly nonexistent—at least where the pizza was concerned.
“What else has he arranged outside of the group?” Connor asked.
“What’s with the interrogation?” she countered. At this rate, this would be her last slice of pizza.
“I’m a cop. It’s what I do.”
“What made you leave Chicago and come back to Hopeful?”
“Now who’s conducting an interrogation?”
“It’s just a simple question.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Fine. Forget I asked.” Marissa knew her voice sounded huffy and she didn’t care. “Thanks for the pizza.” She moved to stand up but his hand on her arm stopped her. It also stopped her heart for a second. Again with the humming from her head to her toe. What was all that about?
“I didn’t mean to bite your head off,” he said gruffly.
Since she didn’t expect him to apologize she had no response for that.
Finally she said, “If you don’t want to talk about it…”
“I was ready for a change,” he said.
She sensed there was a lot more to it than that but didn’t press him. At least she didn’t mean to press him. But the words tumbled out of her mouth anyway. “Was it a woman?”
He glared at her. “No, it wasn’t a woman.”
“Okay.”
“It was work stuff, okay?”
“Okay. I can tell it’s a touchy subject with you.”
“I am not touchy. Touchy is for wimps.”
“Right. God forbid you should be a wimp or be touchy or actually have some emotions.”
“Hey, I have emotions. Too many damn emotions sometimes.” His voice turned dark and rough.
She saw the pain flash in his eyes and felt guilty for bringing up something that was so difficult for him. “I’m sorry.”
He regained control of his expression “You’re sorry for what?”
She could tell he didn’t want her referring to the reasons for his departure from Chicago again so she tried to lighten the situation a little. “Sorry I gave you a hard time about the pizza. Angelo’s is indeed awesome.”
“We had some good times back then, working there.”
“And eating there,” she said. “I think we tried every possible combination on the menu no matter how outlandish. Pineapple and spinach.”
“Pineapple, spinach and shrimp.”
“That was pretty good actually,” she said. “It’s when we added broccoli to that mix that things went terribly wrong.”
He laughed. “That was bad. Very bad.”
She shared a smile with him. It had been so long since she’d had a fun moment like this. She’d forgotten how wonderful it could feel. Or how addictive it could be.
Her eyes met his and she couldn’t look away. She felt like a teenager all over again, caught up in a crush, so wild about the guy in front of her that she couldn’t even think straight.
She wasn’t that girl anymore but there was still a bit of her left inside Marissa. Enough to make her breathless. Enough to make her yearn for something more.
She nervously licked her lips.
His gaze shifted to her mouth. Was he going to kiss her? Would she let him? Yes, yes…no, no. No, she really shouldn’t.
She moved back and almost slipped from her chair. “I should be going.”
“Okay.” He followed her to the door. “Here, let me.” He leaned around her to open it for her, his arm brushing against her body, his warm breath stirring her hair.
She was momentarily trapped in the seductive cage of his arms before he stepped back. The door was open now. She really should make a break for it before she gave in to the wildly inappropriate thoughts racing through her mind.
“Hey, I’ve got your table,” Jess said, making Marissa jump.
The spell was broken. For that’s what it truly felt like, as if Marissa had been caught up in some kind of enchanted moment. The problem with those kinds of moments is that they weren’t real. And they didn’t last.
Getting free furniture was real.
“Need my help?” Connor asked as he had earlier.
Marissa noted the way he eyed her sister.
“No, I’m good,” Jess said. “Tim is doing the heavy lifting.”
The young hottie came up with stairs with a toothpaste-
ad perfect smile. “Where do you want this?”
Marissa hurried inside her apartment to show him the empty dining area. The table came apart, with the legs separate from the top. Tim made fast work of putting it all together while Jess lingered in the hallway with Connor.
“Jess, I need your help in here,” Marissa called out.
Her sister came inside. Tim had gone down to bring up the chairs. “We should really be helping Tim carry those,” Marissa said.
“He likes doing things for me.”
“I’m sure he didn’t like the way you were flirting with my neighbor.”
“What were you and Sheriff Hottie up to?”
“Nothing.”
“Fine. Be that way. I can’t stay and talk anyway.”
“I thought you and Tim had to be someplace.”
“We did. And now we’re off somewhere else. Wait until Mom hears about your hanging out with your sexy neighbor.”
“Do not tell her.” Marissa added a warning look that should have worked but didn’t. Damn. It used to work when they were kids. Life was so much more complicated now.
Now Jess was into bargaining for her silence. Come to think of it, she’d done that when they were kids, too. “I won’t tell her if you go to that divorce support group meeting Mom keeps going on about,” Jess said. “I’m tired of Mom bugging me to bug you.”
“I’ll go this week.”
“You better.”
“And you better keep your mouth shut.”
Jess smiled and made a zipping motion across her lips.
* * *
Marissa was not looking forward to attending the divorce support group tonight but she had no choice. Not only had she made that bargain with her sister but her mother had continued nagging Marissa all week about going to the meeting. Attending tonight seemed like the lesser of two evils. At least Jess seemed to have kept her promise and not told their mom about Marissa being in Connor’s apartment.
Marissa walked into the crowded room on the second floor of the Hopeful Park District building and selected one of the few empty chairs from the semi-circle. She liked it because it was closest to the door. The Park District offered its meeting rooms to a number of support groups in the evenings as well as classes like Cooking for One or Clearing Clutter. She’d rather be in one of those classes instead of where she was, but she’d promised to attend so here she was, feeling nervous and vulnerable.
As Marissa took her seat, several women turned to look at her.
Marissa only recognized one of them—Flo from the post office. Flo was not someone you would ever overlook. Her oversized glasses with the bold black frames were guaranteed to ensure she stood out in a crowd. Her long hair was dyed vivid black and always held back in her trademark ponytail. She hadn’t changed her hairstyle or glasses since Marissa was in high school.
“Welcome. We’re glad you’ve joined us,” Flo said. “Would you like some coffee and cookies?”
“Thanks.” As she helped herself to the offered goodies, Marissa worried that she might be turning into one of those people who couldn’t turn down free food.
“Okay then, let’s get started,” Flo said.
Marissa hurried back to her chair. They went around the room saying their names so fast that Marissa couldn’t keep up with them. Was the woman to her left named Amy or Sammy?
“We have a new visitor tonight.” Flo nodded at Marissa. “Do you want to introduce yourself and tell us about yourself?”
She’d rather eat ground glass but had little choice other than to reply. “My name is Marissa.” She hadn’t considered the possibility that she’d have to do much talking tonight, not right off the bat. She wasn’t comfortable baring her soul to strangers. She also worried she might have bits of dried fruit stuck in her teeth from the oatmeal raisin cookie she’d eaten. “And um…I’m just here to listen and observe.”
The group gave her a collective frown.
“I’m divorced,” she hurriedly added in case they thought she was crashing their meeting for the food and drink.
“Her mom warned me that she could be shy,” Flo said. “So I’ll introduce her. Marissa Bennett is a local girl who left home to go off to college. She met a man she thought was her Prince Charming. They got married, but one day she came home to find her s.o.b. of a husband was in bed with another woman.”
“That’s almost as bad as me discovering my ex had two mistresses,” a pretty woman with short dark short hair said. She looked like she’d be more at home in an episode of Real Housewives of Atlanta than in Hopeful, Ohio.
“But having him clear out your bank account and take off to the Cayman Islands is even worse,” another woman said.
“Ladies, it’s not a competition,” Flo said.
“If it was, I’d win for worst divorce,” the woman to Marissa’s right maintained.
“At least you were married for a dozen years,” Flo said. “Poor Marissa here couldn’t even hack it for a year.”
Their eyes widened.
“You were married less than a year?” the woman on Marissa’s left asked in amazement.
“She signed the divorce papers on their one-year wedding anniversary,” Flo replied on Marissa’s behalf.
“That’s rough,” Atlanta Housewife admitted. “Did you at least get a good settlement?”
“She had to come back home and move in with her parents,” Flo said. “Do you think she’d do that if she got a good settlement?”
“I have my own place now,” Marissa said.
“She moved into my building,” Flo said.
Great. Marissa didn’t realize that Flo lived there, too.
“That’s a very safe place,” Atlanta Housewife said. “The sheriff lives there.”
“I know.” Marissa wondered when the situation had gotten so totally out of her control. Probably the minute she’d walked in the door. No, it was when Flo had spoken for her. Marissa chastised herself for not taking control then. And for not paying attention when they’d done the speed roll call. But she could fix that if she took immediate action. “I’m sorry. I was so nervous that I didn’t catch everyone’s name. Could you please start over and introduce yourselves again?”
And bingo, that’s all it took for them to beam at her and start talking all at once. Marissa couldn’t keep up but at least the spotlight was off her for a while. Across the room Marissa caught the empathetic look of a young woman close to her own age. Her name was Deb Kirsch and as the evening progressed, she was the one person who made Marissa feel like she’d found someone with a similar viewpoint.
* * *
Connor had heard that Marissa was attending a divorce support group meeting tonight. It was hard to keep secrets in a small town. Hard but not impossible.
No one knew the exact details of his reasons for leaving Chicago. They figured city life had burned him out and who wouldn’t prefer a great town like Hopeful to gritty Chicago.
Connor had almost been tempted to confide in Marissa and that surprised him. So did the other ways in which she tempted him. Being in bed with her made him hard. He wanted her…bad. One of his few nights off and here he was, home alone lusting after the girl next door. The sexy hot librarian next door.
His X-rated thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone. He could tell by the ringtone that it was his mom.
“You’re not calling me while you’re driving, are you?” Connor said.
“No. You know I signed Oprah’s No Phone Zone Pledge. I’m calling you from a parking lot and the car is turned off.”
“Everything okay?”
“Fine.”
“How are you and GM enjoying Hershey, Pennsylvania?” Connor always called his grandmother “GM.”
“Oh, we’re done with Hershey. We’re here.”
“Here, where?”
“Here in Hopeful. We’re about five minutes away from your place. See you soon.”