Page 29 of Love Her

Chapter 14

Felicity

It’s fine. I’m fine.

Everything is fine.

Connor is just following me home. He’s being a gentleman. Who says chivalry is dead? Sure I actually said that a few months ago but what do I know? Maybe I should turn some music on, get lost in a country song. Yes, I should do that. Except my hands are shaking like a house on a fault line.

We’ll pull up in front of the house and I’ll wave him off. It’s going to be fine. Not like I’m inviting him inside. Should I invite him inside? Oh God, why am I so awkward? I know why. Because I have next to no experience with men. I’ve not had more than a casual conversation with a person of the male gender since I met with the attorneys after my divorce.

It’s also been a long time since I’ve been attracted to a man. And I’m attracted to Connor. Boy am I. My fingers itch to touch his trim beard. The idea of that same beard tickling my neck sends a shiver through my spine. A warm feeling in my lower belly has my heart racing and my mind scurrying to keep up.

He’s handsome and has a bad-boy vibe that oozes from his pores. The pheromones are real. Glancing to the rearview mirror, I confirm he’s still behind me as I flip the signal to turn onto my street. Slowly, I pull into the driveway and kill the engine. Sitting with my hands gripping the steering wheel, I run multiple scenarios through my head. I could thank him politely and excuse myself to wash my hair. Or, I could just wave and run into the house and slam the door. No, that sounds a little harsh.

A loud banging on the window scares me and I scream like a star of a horror movie. Hand to my chest I turn to the noise and see Connor with a concerned look on his face. Opening the door, I begin to step out when the seatbelt chokes me and keeps me in place. Ohmygosh. You’d think I’ve never been around a person before. I just ate two slices of pizza while talking about my favorite ice cream and thoughts on mustard for goodness sake.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“No problem,” I mutter as I untangle myself from the seatbelt and grab my purse. Slamming the door, I adjust my shirt and blow the hair from my face. “I made it safe and sound. I’ll have my dad take a look tomorrow when they get back.”

Looking at the dark house, Connor pauses before returning his attention back to me. “You mentioned they were out of town. Where’s Clem? A friend’s house too?”

I wish she was with a friend. Things are getting better for her in the new class, but I still worry about the way she’s being treated. “With my folks actually. They took her to Austin.”

Unable to look him in the eye, I’m suddenly very interested in the grass. Connor clears his throat and takes a step back. “Okay, well if you need anything before they get home, you can give me a call.”

“Thanks. Oh I don’t have your number. You know, in case I need a jump. I mean my car needs a jump.” Hello ground. If you could open up and swallow me whole that’d be great.

“My cell is on the roster.”

“Oh, right. Okay.”

“Yeah . . . so I’ll just be going. Have a good night.”

He makes it halfway down the driveway when my mouth makes things more uncomfortable. “Did you want to come in for some pie?”

Turning to face me, a huge grin takes over his face, and I think I forgot how to breathe. “I like pie.”

Motioning for him to follow me, I walk up the front steps and unlock the door. The living room is dark, but the light over the kitchen sink gives enough of a glow that it isn’t impossible to see. Flipping the switch for the lights, the room comes to life and I kick off my shoes next to the door.

“Let’s see what kind Mom made this morning. I think she was aiming for pecan, but there may also be an apple. She tends to get overzealous with baking.”

Connor follows me as I deposit my purse on the table behind the couch. My parents have remodeled the house since I was little. Removed a wall here and there, opening up the kitchen and dining room into the living room. It almost doesn’t look like the same house but still on the doorjamb to the laundry room are the hashmarks from each of my birthdays until I was fourteen and refused to let my mom measure me anymore.

I bend and open the oven door to find two pies as I expected. Pulling both from their resting place, I set them on the counter and turn to Connor. Not standing on the other side of the island as I expected, he’s wandering around the room looking at my mom’s pictures. She loves displaying her family for all to see. The photos range from my great-grandparents’ wedding to the kids’ current school pictures. The only photo to be replaced is my wedding photo. I didn’t want that memory.

“My mom is a true romantic. She considers photos a lifetime memory of an important moment. Most people think to only capture the big milestones—weddings and births. My mom likes the shots of real moments. Catching a couple gazing at one another or a child blissful with a bottle of bubbles.”

“Yet you still have the traditional moments hung as well. I like it.” He takes a step to the left and barks out a laugh. I know exactly what he sees.

“Don’t laugh. I was seventeen.”

“You’re orange,” he sputters between laughs.

Smacking his arm, I join in the laughter. “I know. It’s awful. A do-it-yourself spray tan was not my best look. But I was homecoming queen and my mom insisted that be hung.”

I can tell he’s trying to hold back a comment and I don’t wait for him to spit it out as I move along to a small frame on the bookcase. It’s my favorite of the bunch. Candid and capturing a moment, the photo was taken on the day I made a promise to myself and my kids. Lifting it from the shelf, I run my finger across the glass.

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