Page 32 of Where We Bloom

I’ll never be back here again anyway.

I feel him ease onto what I assume is the highway because he picks up speed, and I look around to see where we are. It’s not too far from my family’s ranch, actually.

I don’t know why that surprises me.

But I don’t say anything.

“Are you all right, then, beautiful girl?” he asks.

Connor’s Irish accent has always done things to me. It makes my stomach clench and my core tingle.

It’s sexy as hell.

But add in the compliments, the sweet touches, the light brushes of his lips? I can hardly resist him.

Damn him.

“I will be,” I mutter and cover my eyes, blocking out the sunlight. “Once I find all of the pieces of my skull and put them back together again.”

Before long, he pulls into my driveway.

“Wait for me.” He turns off the engine, then pushes out of the vehicle and hurries around to my side, where he opens the door and helps me to my feet. “I’m walking you in. You can argue, but it’s still happening.”

I’m wobbly enough in these stupid heels that I don’t protest.

I let him lead me to the door, and I unlock it, and we step inside. It’s already late afternoon on Sunday, and I feel my shoulders fall in disappointment.

“What’s wrong?” he asks with a concerned scowl.

“I lost my whole day off,” I reply as I kick out of the heels and rub my hands over my face. I don’t even want to think about what last night’s makeup must look like right now. “I have to get ready for work tomorrow already, and I missed family time at the ranch.”

“I’m sure the family understands,” he says. “What can I do to help?”

Damn him for being so nice to me right now.

“You’ve helped plenty,” I remind him. “And I’m about to turn into a pumpkin. Don’t worry, I’ll call Blake. You can go.”

He shoves his hands in his jeans pockets and frowns at me. Dammit, he looks too good standing in my house. Like he could just help me in the kitchen or sit with me in my library even though said library is tiny, and I don’t need to imagine this man hanging out with me at home.

“Connor.” It’s a whisper, and finally, he nods.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he says as he turns away. “I’ll come to you anytime, or I’ll send whatever you need over. I mean it.”

I don’t know why, but that makes me scoff. “I don’thave your number.”

“Yes, you do,” he says over his shoulder. “It’s in your phone. Get some rest, bumble.”

And with that, he leaves me standing here, and I’m a fucking mess.

But this is what I asked him for. I asked him to bring me home and leave me alone, but now I want him here with me.

I’m pissing myself off.Get it together, Billie.

First, I call Blake.

“Tell me how you’re feeling,” he says in greeting.

“Like hammered shit.”

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