Page 53 of Where We Bloom

Ihaveso manyquestions. First of all, Connor was married.Freaking married.I want to know all about that. How long were they married? When? How long have they been divorced? He says they’re still friends, so was the divorce amicable? She’s on the board of directors, so does that mean that he sees her often? None of it is my business, but I really want to know.

We’re headed toward Bitterroot Valley, and I turn to watch his profile as he drives. His jaw is tight. His left hand grips the wheel, but his right holds my hand, not too tight. It’s as if he’s holding stress all over his body, but he’s making a conscious effort to be gentle with me.

His gaze drifts over to me, and those amazing eyes, so fucking green it almost makes me ache, smile at me. His lips inch up on the side, and he raises an eyebrow, as if to ask,are you okay?

And I smile and nod at him. He gives my hand a squeeze and turns his attention back to the highway.

About twenty minutes later, he pulls into a gas station and stops next to the pump, turns off the engine.

“You pump your own gas?” I ask him, surprised.

“Not often,” he admits with a laugh. “But I do know how. Do you need anything from inside?”

“I’m going to quickly use the restroom,” I reply, unbuckling my belt. I hurry inside and find the public restroom, cringe at the state of it, then hover over the toilet, relieving myself.

When I get back outside, Connor has pulled the Jeep into a parking spot, making room for someone else to pump gas, and before I can climb in, he walks straight for me, frames my face, and kisses the hell out of me, right here in the parking lot.

Gripping his wrists, I lean in, pressing my breasts against him, soaking this man in. I feel like a selfish idiot. I wasted so much time. I should have just had a conversation with him months ago, but I didn’t know.

I can’t read minds, for fuck’s sake.

And, I can admit, neither can he.

Finally, he pulls away and rests his forehead against my own.

“I’ve been thinking about that since we got back on the road,” he confesses. “It should hold me over until we get into town.”

I smirk and tap my hand against his chest. “There are places to pull over in case you change your mind.”

With a wink, I climb into the Jeep and secure my seat belt as Connor walks into the gas station. Holy hell, theman’s ass in those jeans could end wars. When does he have time to do all of this working out? Between his arms and his abs and that ass, he has to spend time in the gym, but I know he’s as much of a workaholic as I am, and I don’t have time to go to the gym.

Okay, I couldmaketime. I’m awake all night, but no one wants to work out when they can’t sleep. Besides, I haul boxes of books all day, so I do lift weights.

A few minutes later, he walks out of the gas station, and I feel my jaw drop because cradled in his arms have to be at least ten brands of bottled water.

“What did you do?” I ask with a laugh as he swaggers over to me, a half smile on his delicious lips.

“I bought every brand they have,” he says, standing next to me. “So you can choose the one you like the best.”

I blink at the bottles, then up at him, and feel my heart soften even more. “This one is my favorite.” I point at the one by his elbow and pluck it from his arm. He sets the rest of the bottles in the cooler in the back seat.

I open the water and take a drink, and as I’m sliding it into the cup holder, Connor sits next to me. Just like every other time he’s sat next to me, I feel calm. Happy.He’s so thoughtful. Intentional.

Then Blake’s words come to my mind.

“He didn’t sleep so he could monitor your breathing and make sure that you weren’t in distress. Maybe stop assuming what Connor does or doesn’t think and pay attention to what he does.”

“Thank you, Connor.”

“For what? Water?”

“No, and yes. For being so thoughtful and looking for water I would drink.”

He shrugs. “No problem, angel.”

Angel.

He’s called me that from the beginning.Doesn’t that show you what he feels about you, Bee?

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