Nothing but Trouble

Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

IT WAS ALMOST midnight when Jenny and I stumbled through the door, holding each other up. Connor stood in the kitchen, watching us, and his smile gave way to concern when Jenny walked into the doorframe.

She made it through on the third attempt, hobbled over, and patted him on the cheek. “See, we made it back. I told you we would. We can look after ourselves.”

He caught her as she tripped over her own feet and lowered her onto one of the wooden chairs that sat around the old oak table. Head lolling, she kicked off her shoes.

“Bloody heels. Whoever invented those should be shot,” she slurred.

I collapsed onto the seat next to her. “You said no weirdos, Jenny. You lied.”

“Trevor’s not so bad.”

“He collects tractors.”

“This is the country. Most men around here love their farm machinery.”

“His bed’s shaped like a tractor, and he uses a tractor wheel as a coffee table.” He’d told me all about it, with every painful detail. “He recycled a plough and made it into a coat stand. Oh, and the best bit, he wants to go to his wedding on a tractor. He asked if I was okay with that?”

Jenny let out an unladylike snort and Connor covered his mouth.

“Okay, I’ll give you that one. He was a bit odd,” she said, then dropped her head onto the table and closed her eyes. Seconds later, a gentle snore came from her lips.

I looked up at Connor. “Probably I should go to bed.”

“Probably you’re right.”

I went to get up, only it didn’t work out so well, and I ended up sprawled at his feet. Jenny was definitely right about the stilettos. I never should have borrowed them.

“You okay, babe?” Connor pulled me to my feet. Wow, look at those muscles!

“Yeah, I’m good.” I clutched onto the counter for support.

He shook his head at me, and before I knew it, I was cradled in his arms as he strode out the door.

I clung around his neck, inhaling his musky scent. He was all man. And he was carrying me! It was like that scene in The Bodyguard where Kevin Costner carried Whitney Houston. I might have sighed.

Connor walked across the car park, the silver moonlight tracing the angles of his face. His warmth flooded into me, and the contours of his abs rippled against my side. As he walked, the gentle rocking motion made me feel...queasy.

A lump rose in my throat as I struggled to get down, and I just made it to the nearest bush before losing most of a bottle of wine and several neon-coloured cocktails. Probably the surrounding plants would die from that little lot. I certainly felt like I was about to.

Movement behind brought me back to reality. Oh heck, Connor hadn’t run at the first heave and not only that, he was holding my hair back. Death couldn’t come soon enough. I looked around for a high bridge or passing freight train, but of course there wasn’t one.

“You okay, babe?” he whispered, his lips grazing my ear.

“No.” No point in lying. I’d just thrown up in front of the hottest guy I’d ever met, or indeed was ever likely to meet, and now he’d made me feel worse by being so damned nice about it.

I shuddered as he slung an arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “We need to get you into bed.”

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all evening.” A vision of Connor with fewer clothes on flitted through my mind, and I gave myself a mental slap. No, I was not going there. He’d meant it in a kind way, not an I-want-to-strip-you-naked-and-do-bad-things way.

Once more, I found myself in his arms, and this time we made it back to my bedroom. Well, bathroom. Connor propped me up in front of the sink and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I closed my eyes. If I did that, the blonde eyesore I’d become would disappear, right?

“Brush your teeth,” he said.

“Huh?”

“Your mouth’ll taste like s**t, and it’ll make you feel better.”

As I tried to put toothpaste onto the brush with shaking fingers, I swayed a bit and grabbed for the basin. Connor’s arms snaked round my waist and held me up until I spat and rinsed, branding me with his touch.

My efforts earned me a half-smile. “Well done. Now, bed.”

He made no attempt to undress me as he tucked me under the duvet, just drew it up to my chin and turned off the main light, leaving me only the glow of the lamp on the nightstand. My eyelids grew heavy, and I could keep them open no longer. There was a pause before Connor’s footsteps crossed the room and then the door clicked shut.

But before that, before he walked away, had I imagined his warm breath on my cheek and the brush of his lips against my temple?

I didn’t know how to face Connor the next morning. What must he think of me? Hmm… How about if I just packed and snuck out? I could call a taxi, and it would be here in fifteen minutes. Okay, thirty, because I’d need a shower first, and...

My door opened.

“It lives,” said Connor as he walked in with two steaming mugs of coffee. The aroma tickled my nose and I inhaled deeply. Delicious.

Hang on a sec. He hadn’t even knocked!

“You can’t walk in here like that!”

“Just did.”

“What if I’d been naked?”

“A guy can live in hope.” He dropped onto the edge of the bed and looked down at me. I expected to see annoyance, but what I saw was worry. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” I admitted, turning my head and burying my face in the pillow. “I threw up in front of you.”

“At least you didn’t throw up on me.”

That made me giggle. “That would have been worse.”

“Trust me, it is.”

There was something about the way he said it. “Wait, someone’s done that to you?”

I thought he wasn’t going to answer, he paused for so long. “Other way round.”

“You threw up?”

“My date never spoke to me again.”

That new piece of information sunk in. Connor puked on a girl? How, when I’d never even seen him drink? “But you’re always so sensible.”

“I haven’t always been that way.” He stood up. “I’ll see you outside.”

His confession made me feel a little bit better, but a couple of nights out had taken their toll, and I was shattered when I got outside. My tiredness showed up in my riding ability, or rather the lack of it.

When we’d ridden out yesterday afternoon, with Folly cantering along nicely beside Captain, I’d finally got the hang of sitting still, but this morning my balance deserted me.

“I can’t do it,” I said, frustrated.

Connor patted Folly on the neck, no doubt commiserating with her for having an i***t on board. “You can, but you’re not in the right frame of mind today. We’ll go for a hack this afternoon, the horses have got tomorrow off, and we can start fresh on Tuesday.”

Tuesday. We’d be well into week two then. “Jenny said there was a dressage competition on Saturday. There’s no way I’ll be ready for that.”

“You don’t have to win; you just have to get round. If you focus for the rest of the week, you’ll do it.”

“I don’t see how I can.”

He took a step closer and laid a hand on my knee. “Babe, you need to lay off the wine. It’s not helping you.”

How did I explain it was the wine that gave me courage? When I was tipsy, I could imagine another, braver girl inhabited my body. One able to look him in the eye without shrinking away.

He squeezed my leg.

“Okay,” I blurted.

I was rewarded with a grin, teeth included.

It was when we were walking back to the barn after dinner at Jenny’s in the evening that he leaned down to me. “Tomorrow, I’ll prove you can have fun without alcohol.”

“What?”

“Wear jeans.”

Before I could ask what on earth he meant, he’d disappeared into the darkness, leaving me to spend a sleepless night worrying about what he had planned.

The next morning, I got up early to put Folly in the field and muck out then took a shower. Remembering what Connor said, I pulled on a pair of black skinny jeans and a turtleneck jumper. Hopefully that would meet with his approval.

I smothered a yawn as I sat down for breakfast, and Annabel sneered at me. “Late night?”

“I didn’t sleep that well.”

“I can tell by the big, black circles under your eyes.” Beside her, Felicity giggled. “You should get a decent concealer. What were you doing all night, plotting what you can try next to snag Connor?”

“No, I—”

A roar from outside interrupted me. A blur zipped past the window, and we all ran to look, just in time to see Connor swing his leg over a black motorbike and take off his helmet.

Seconds later, he arrived at the door and grinned at me, then his smile faded as he looked past my shoulder. “Good morning, Annabel, Felicity.”

Felicity said, “Good morning,” but Annabel merely scowled.

Connor shrugged and looked back at me. “Ready to go, babe?”

I poked my head out the door. “On that thing? You expect me to sit on that? It’s a death trap on wheels.”

He laughed. “No, it’s a Suzuki GSXR.”

“You can ride it?”

“No, I flew it here on a magic carpet.”

Yet again, I’d managed to sound stupid.

“I’ll go for a ride, Connor,” Annabel purred from beside me, obviously having a change of heart.

He gave her a scathing look. “I bet you would.”

Turning his back on her, he took my hand. “Come on, you can tick off something else from your list.”

I’d been so busy freaking out at the thought of having him between my thighs, I’d forgotten all about that. Could I pass up on the chance of completing another challenge? I’d achieved precious little so far, and who knew if another guy would be willing to take me out on a motorbike again?

“Will you go slowly? I like slow.”

“I will.” He leaned in close so nobody else could hear. “But not on the bike.”

Call an ambulance. My heart was going to give out if he kept saying things like that. I fanned myself then stopped when Annabel stared at me.

“Put this helmet on.”

Connor helped me to fasten the strap under my chin, and steam hissed out of Annabel’s ears as I hopped up behind him onto the tiny pillion seat. I felt around. Where were the handles?

“What do I hold onto?”

He grinned and looked down at himself before pulling his helmet over his head. “Me.”

The vibrations from the engine rippled through me when Connor started it up. With the Uglies still watching, I gingerly put my arms around his waist, keeping them loose, trying to ignore the sensations between my legs. I hadn’t had time to gather my thoughts when Connor twisted the throttle, and the bike surged forward.

I couldn’t help shrieking as I grabbed on for dear life. As he accelerated along the lane, I ended up plastered to his back, the scent of his leather jacket invading my nostrils.

The bike tilted as he went round a corner, and I squealed again. What if it fell over? Didn’t he care about gravity? Apparently not, since I could hear his laughter over the throb of the bike as another bend came up.

“Slow down,” I yelled.

“Babe, we’re only doing forty.”

We were? It seemed much faster with the tarmac rushing by so close to my feet. I didn’t even know where we were going. All I could do was cling on as Connor sped through the countryside, cottages and fields and hedgerows and streams zipping past in a blur.

It took a while, but when I didn’t die I began to enjoy myself. Shivery thrills raced through me as I leaned into the turns with him, and the slow burn between my legs made me fidget. I itched to reach down and relieve it, but that was out of the question. Was it possible to have an orgasm from riding a motorcycle? I didn’t know, but I was well on my way to finding out.

The peak of ecstasy was coming close when Connor pulled into the car park of a quiet country inn, and a groan escaped my lips. “Why did you stop?”

He pointed at the blackboard next to the door. It advertised what claimed to be the best full English in the South of England. “I interrupted your breakfast.”

As if on cue, my stomach let out a grumble.

“See,” he laughed. “It agrees with me.”

When we walked in the door, he waved at the guy behind the bar to get his attention. “Two full Englishes and a couple of coffees, please.” Then he took my hand and led me over to a table in the corner. My palm sizzled where it touched his, and I had to concentrate to stop myself from panting.

When he let go, I slid into a bench seat on the far side and Connor took the chair opposite. “So, what do you think of the bike?”

I wanted to dissolve into mush but tried to play it cool. Even then, I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “It’s all right.”

His expression matched mine. “You love it.”

“It’s all right,” I repeated.

“I’ll get you to say those three words by the end of the day.”

“Nice to see you’re up for a challenge.”

“I’ve got my own list, babe.”

Why did I feel so flustered when he gave me his secret smile? The one that made me want to peel off his clothes and lick him all over? I shoved that thought away as the guy from the bar brought our drinks to the table and tried to regain my composure as I concentrated on adding cream and sugar.

“So what else do you have planned for today?” I asked.

“Not a lot,” he admitted. “This was a spur of the moment thing. I called up an old buddy yesterday evening to borrow the bike. I figured we’d ride around a while, have lunch, maybe dinner?”

A whole day with the perfect excuse to wrap myself around Connor? The chance to spend a couple of hours eating good food and trying to pretend I wasn’t drinking him in with my eyes? “Sounds good to me.”

It was ten o’clock and pitch black by the time we got back to Linden Hollow, and I peeled myself away from Connor with difficulty. We’d gone west and ridden around half of Wiltshire, broken up only by a shared bag of chips for lunch then a cosy dinner in an out-of-the-way pub.

He put the bike on its stand and helped me off, holding me up as I stumbled sideways.

“You okay?”

“My bum’s numb and my legs are stiff.”

“Stiffness has been a problem for me today too.”

Oh good, at least I wasn’t the only one. “It’s a shame the bike isn’t yours to keep.”

“So you love it now?”

“It’s all right.”

He walked forward, pushing me back against the fairing. “Say it.”

I looked away and giggled. “It’s all right.”

He pinned me in place with his hips, and suddenly his earlier comment about stiffness made sense. I gasped, given no choice but to look at him when he gently grasped my chin and turned my head.

“Say it,” he murmured.

His lips hovered inches from mine, and his breath washed over my face, still chocolatey from the dessert we’d shared. My legs started to buckle, and he held me up. Did he know what he did to me?

“I love it,” I whispered back, and at that moment I suspected I wasn’t only talking about the bike.

Every nerve ending begged him to kiss me, but he stepped back, leaving me a gooey mess. “That’s one of my challenges ticked off.”