Nothing but Trouble

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

THE CLOSER WE got to Reading, the more fidgety I became. What if Connor hated my house? The decor still screamed “old lady,” and there wasn’t much I could do about that unless I managed to complete all my challenges.

And what would happen with Terry? I only hoped he agreed to go quietly.

When we drew up outside the house, the curtains were open and everything lay quiet. The only sign of habitation was the plume of smoke rising from behind the garage.

Wait a second. Smoke? Why the hell was there smoke?

Lost for words, I pointed at it, my hand trembling.

Connor’s eyes followed my finger. “I take it that’s not supposed to be there?”

I quickly shook my head.

Connor was out of the car in an instant, pausing only to help me down and tow me along with him. Together we marched around the side of the house.

Well, Terry had made himself right at home, hadn’t he?

He and four of his no-good mates from uni were slumped in plastic garden chairs, shouting at a flat-screen TV visible through the open summerhouse door. A fifth waste-of-space flipped charred-looking meat on a family-sized barbecue, the origin of the plumes of smoke.

Connor marched right up to the lot of them and lowered his voice to a growl. “What the f**k?”

Terry turned from his position on a sun lounger—one of Edith’s, I noticed. “All right, Ella? You should have said you were coming back. We’d have got extra burgers.”

Connor tucked me in behind him. “You’ve got ten minutes to get off Ella’s property before I help you on your way.”

Behind Terry, I noticed the rest of his little gang sidling away. Angry Connor was not a sight anyone wanted to be confronted with.

“Keep your hair on, mate. I know Ella. We go way back.”

“I know exactly who you are, and I also know she doesn’t want you here.”

“No need to be so touchy. She’s just helping out an old friend.”

I couldn’t leave Connor to fight this on his own. It wasn’t his battle.

“We’re not friends, Terry. You cheated on me with Demi.”

“But that was just s*x. It didn’t mean nothing. I needed a bit of time with someone that got what they were doing down there, know what I mean? Demi was a b***h, anyway.”

Oh. My. Goodness. Did he just tell Connor I sucked in bed? Or rather, that I didn’t suck? It wasn’t my fault Terry smelled like old socks and made me want to gag. Or that he made those weird animal noises when he got close to coming that threw a bucket of cold water over my libido.

Did I say any of that? No, I just stood there open mouthed as Terry’s face took on a look of smugness.

“What you did was horrible,” I finally managed to get out.

“Oh, lighten up.” He jerked a thumb at Connor. “You’ve been quick enough to hop into the sack with someone else.”

“You can’t stay here.” Because if he did, I might be tempted to punch him.

“Look.” His tone turned wheedling. “I’ll get some grass seed for the burnt bits before I go, and I’ll even empty the chemical toilet.”

I looked round, taking in the charred patches of lawn that spoke of the disposable barbecues he’d used before getting a proper one. And what toilet? Tell me he hadn’t been shitting in the summerhouse?

I didn’t get the chance to ask because Connor dove forward and rugby tackled him. There was a bit of a struggle, and seconds later Terry got carried to the front of Edith’s property and deposited on the pavement.

Connor pointed down at where the tarmac changed into gravel. “Cross that line and I’ll kill you, got it?”

Terry had gone white with a hint of green by that point. He nodded quickly.

Without another word, Connor put his arm around me and steered me back up the driveway.

“That was easier than I thought,” he said.

In the garden, Terry’s mates were still standing around, unsure what to do with themselves. I noted they hadn’t lifted a finger to help.

“You’ve got five minutes to clear that.” Connor pointed at the mess outside the summerhouse. “Before I call the cops and get all of you arrested for criminal damage.”

After a few beats, they shuffled to the shed with the enthusiasm of the undead. Connor supervised as they carried everything out to the kerb, including the bloody porta-potti.

“Don’t s’pose you can give us a lift, mate?” one of them tried, eying up Connor’s truck.

Connor simply stared at him until he backed away, tripping over Edith’s potted pelargoniums as he did so.

Soon, all that remained was a sad-looking lawn and a broken deckchair. Connor threw that in the wheelie-bin, and the dead flowers we found in the porch with a card from Mike attached joined it.

Day was turning to dusk when we finally started unloading our own cases. Connor brought less stuff than me, a state of affairs I found a little depressing considering he’d been staying with Jenny for twice as long. He carried everything upstairs and dumped it in the larger of the two guest rooms.

“We can unpack tomorrow,” he said.

Not having had a man stay before, I was unsure of the etiquette. Should I offer him a wardrobe for his things? Or would that seem too forward? A wave of tiredness washed over me. Connor was right—we could deal with the issue in the morning. At the moment, I needed food.

“Been a long day,” Connor said after we’d grabbed a quick dinner. Nothing exciting, just reheated lasagne from the freezer.

We leaned against the kitchen counters opposite each other, waiting for the kettle to boil. The thought of having to reach into the cupboard for mugs brought on a yawn, and I barely had the energy to reach up and cover my mouth.

“That’s the spirit, babe, open wide.”

I snapped my jaw shut, and he laughed. Only it wasn’t funny. Terry had basically told him I was terrible in bed, and the shame of it was, he was probably right.

Connor took a couple of paces and ended up by my side. “What’s wrong? You look worried.”

We’d come too far for me to lie to him. “It’s what Terry said.”

“About jumping into bed with me? I know you’re not the kind of girl who hops from one guy to the next without a second thought.”

“No, not that.”

“What, then?”

“About me not knowing what to do.” I cast my eyes down at the floor.

He took half a step back and turned my chin up so I couldn’t avoid his gaze. “I taught you to ride a horse, right?”

I nodded.

“That’s not the only thing I’m gonna teach you to ride. And in the bedroom, I’m the f*****g professor.”

Oh my giddy aunt, it was a good thing I was leaning on the cupboard, because I wouldn’t have stayed standing otherwise.

He leaned closer and murmured against my lips. “Babe, I’m gonna light you up.” His finger lightly stroked between my legs. “Then I’m gonna blow you out.”

I clutched at his shirt to hold myself up, and he laughed again.

“I don’t care what that punk said. If he reckoned you were s**t in bed, it’s because he didn’t know how to use it. And I...” He leaned his hips forward into me so I felt his hardness. “Know how to use it.”

I ground against him. We were both wearing far too many clothes. I reached down between us, and for the first time, I gripped his bulge. His eyes hooded and his arms snaked around me, pulling me forward for a searing kiss.

I gasped as our lips met, but it wasn’t from pleasure. “Could you loosen your arms a bit?”

He sprang back. “f**k, babe, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“I’ll be okay.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should have been more careful.” He looked furious with himself.

I leaned forward and captured his lips with mine. “Don’t,” I whispered against them.

With his hands gently resting on my hips this time, we made out until my lips and chin burned from his stubble. My skin wasn’t the only thing on fire, though. If I didn’t get some relief from the ache between my legs soon, I was going to self-combust. When we broke for air, I couldn’t help sighing.

“What is it?” Connor asked.

“I just... I just want you.”

“Feeling’s mutual, babe.”

“Maybe we could, I don’t know… I could prop myself or something.” I heard the tinge of desperation in my voice, but I didn’t care. Damn these stupid ribs! They still ached like hell when I lay flat.

“The first time I’m inside you, I’m not holding back. We’re waiting until you can take it.”

And he thought that would cool me down? By the time I could “take it,” I’d be nothing more than a puddle on the floor.

“That’s not helping.”

He leaned forward and kissed me again.

“Still not helping.”

He reached for my zipper. “You gotta promise to tell me if you hurt.”

Better. “Mmmm.”

His fingers stilled, and he looked at me sharply. “Babe, you gotta promise.”

“I promise,” I breathed.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he slid my jeans down. My limbs were so wobbly that when I tried to kick a foot out of one of the legs I ended up lurching inelegantly to the side. Luckily, Connor caught me before I lost my balance and lifted me up onto the kitchen island in front of him.

Then he dropped to his knees.

It didn’t take many swipes of his tongue before I gripped the edge of the counter and screamed, a wild mewl that for a second I didn’t even realise came from me.

He prolonged the ecstasy by sucking gently at my most sensitive spot, the sensation so intense it bordered on pain. I saw stars. No, scratch that. I saw supernovas. By the time the feeling subsided, I was shaking like a jelly on a Power Plate.

Holy mother of orgasms!

Connor got to his feet and kissed me again, softly this time, without the desperation that had been there a few minutes ago. I tasted myself on him, something I’d always imagined would make me cringe, but on Connor’s tongue it sent a fresh wave of heat flooding through me.

“You scream any louder and I’m gonna have to gag you,” he said once he pulled back.

“Mavis next door is deaf, and the kids the other side have always got their music on.”

“f**k, don’t tell me things like that.”

“Just saying.”

“When I get back, and you’re healed, I’m gonna bury myself balls deep in you and then I want to hear you scream my name.”

“It’s a deal,” I whispered.

I fell asleep reluctantly that night as I knew it would be my last beside Connor for a week. How I wished we could fast forward to a time when not only was he back, but I could cuddle him properly. Simply holding hands was no longer enough for me.

As he breathed quietly alongside, I mused over the bizarre twist of fate that brought us together. If somebody told me a month ago that I’d have lost my heart to a guy who shovelled poop for a living, I’d have helped them straight back to the nearest asylum. It was hardly the stuff of fantasies, was it? But Connor embodied everything I wanted in a man. Kind, dependable, and trustworthy, with the added bonus of being tasty enough to eat.

And now a new phase beckoned. We hadn’t spoken about the future beyond a few weeks, but I couldn’t help imagining it. Until my last day at Payright, “impulsive” wasn’t even in my vocabulary.

Connor said he didn’t have his own home in America. Most of the time he stayed in his brother’s spare room, or occasionally with his parents.

“Doesn’t that get awkward?” I’d asked.

“My brother travels a lot for work, and his wife goes with him. I’ve got the house to myself most of the time, so I’ve never got around to buying my own place.”

If I managed to complete Edith’s list and inherited her home, was there any chance he’d want to live in it with me? Would he consider swapping San Francisco for the joys of Berkshire? I closed my eyes and leaned back into the pillow. There was no point in daydreaming until I’d ticked off a few more challenges.

With that in mind, I texted Grant as soon as I woke up.

Me: Any chance you could fit me in for driving lessons next week?

A few minutes later, he replied.

Grant: Monday at three? I’ll bring Valium and body armour.

Me: Oh ha ha very funny. See you Monday :)

Maybe I could achieve something before Connor came back? Oh, who was I kidding? If I just managed to not crash it would be a miracle.

As Connor slumbered, I watched the hands of my Mickey Mouse clock sweep closer to the hour of agony. Connor’s train to the airport left at one, and even though my chest ached from yesterday’s exertions, I insisted on going to the station with him.

“You should stay home and rest,” he said as we lay in bed.

I shook my head, biting my lip as I held back tears. What would Connor think if I broke down? Women probably cried over him all the time, and I didn’t want to add to the list.

“At least let me get the groceries?”

“Okay.” A sniffle escaped and I turned away.

“You all right?”

“I might be getting a cold.”

“You want me to pick up some Nurofen?”

“Yes please.” Maybe the pills would dull the ache in my heart.

As Connor’s train pulled out, I felt like I should be in one of those old movies where the girl runs along the platform, waving her handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes.

Instead, I managed a sniff that had the businessman reading the paper next to me looking up in disgust, and then smeared my mascara.

As I dodged round a couple of lost-looking tourists wheeling their suitcases, I got one last look at Connor through the window, smiling sadly back at me, a scruffy hat pulled low over his eyes.

I was hollow inside as I sat on the bus back to Edith’s. I’d spent over a month with Connor around, and the thought of just a few days without him felt like someone had scooped my heart out and put it in cold storage. What was wrong with me? When Terry went to Benidorm for a week with his mates last year, I’d helped him lift his suitcase into the taxi then gone back to watching MasterChef.

Connor hadn’t even got to the airport yet, and I was ready to plead on my knees with him to come back. Was this what love felt like? I had little experience in matters of the heart, but if it was, I’d fallen in it.