Page 13 of My Favorite Mistake

Connor’s shoulders drooped as he exhaled. He cast a glance at Liza, who turned her eyes toward him and gave a quick, impish smile before looking back at the screen, and he needed to get the hell out of here before he did something he regretted.

He stomped out of the room and toward the back of the house.

“After you clean up, have Liza set this thing up for you!” Jimmy called after him. “We got a real company email now! Shit! Where’s this stuff been all my life?”

Connor growled in the back of his throat as he marched toward the kitchen to grab a coffee before getting in the shower. Brennan was lounging on the sofa in the adjoining living room and glanced up at him.

“Wellshit.” Brennan’s brow pulled low. “Who pissed in your Cheerios?”

“Fuck off, Riley.” Connor opened a cabinet to grab a mug and then reached for the carafe as Brennan stood from the sofa and entered the kitchen.

He stood close to Connor and lowered his voice significantly. “Did you see that out there?” Brennan lifted his eyebrows as a mischievous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Connor knew exactly what his best friend,gentleman rake—AKA New Orleans’ most eligible bachelor and even more notorious manwhore—Brennan Riley meant bythat out there.

Connor glowered at him. “If you so much as eventhinkaboutthat, I’ll skin your ass.”

Brennan laughed heartily as he slapped Connor’s shoulder. “Aside from the fact that I don’t take orders from you, Sarge, I don’t think I need to remind you that I don’t mix business withpleasure.” He slipped his hands in his pockets, leaned against the counter, and inclined his head toward the hall. “I was actually thinkingyoumight be interested inthat,and I could help you out. However, since my personal policy slipped your mind and you’ve got a damn chip on your shoulder, I think I’ll go chat her up just to piss you off.”

Connor slammed the carafe back under the coffee maker and took an aggressive step closer to Brennan. “Donotchat her up. And there’s no way inhellI’m interested in that.”

Brennan pulled in his chin and drew his brows together. “Why in the hell not? Did you get a good look at her? She’smagnificent.”

Brennan looked down the hall again, and the muscle in his jaw twitched. Connor had half a mind to deck him for what heknewwas going through Brennan’s over-sexed brain.

As if reading Connor’s mind, Brennan turned to look at him again with a shit-eating grin. “Oh wait. Ohno,” he said, feigning sympathy. “That last time you took home a hot little number was more months ago than I can even count. So, tell me, Sarge. Has it just beenso longthat your shit doesn’t even work anymore?”

Connor inclined his head and lowered his voice, still looking at Brennan with severity. “I’ve been there and donethatalready, and I’m notdoingthatagain.”

Brennan eyed his face, his gaze shifting back and forth between Connor and the hall. “Wait…she’sthe ex? As in,theex?”

Connor made a face that required no further explanation, and Brennan looked at him with an expression of concern that Connorhated.

“No fucking way,” Brennan mumbled, glancing at Liza again before looking back at Connor. “Are you okay—"

“Don’t.” Connor gulped the coffee and relished in the scalding sensation that rushed down his throat. “Just leave it alone. The last thing I need isyoumollycoddling me or some shit.

“I’m not.” Brennan jingled the change in his pockets as he lifted and dropped his eyebrows. “Just looking out for you, Sarge. I know all that was—”

“You can just keep your trap shut about it, Riley.” He marched out of the kitchen. “And you canalsokeep your damn snake in your trousers.”

Before Brennan could say anything else, Connor shoved his way through the bathroom door, shutting it loudly and locking it behind him. He dropped the pack on the floor and wrenched on the shower.

Cold water.

He neededcoldwater. For a lot of reasons, many of which had little to do with the fact that the mere sight of Liza obviously still did very noticeable things to him. He stripped off his sweaty clothes, and then braced his palms on the counter, staring at himself in the mirror.

He studied his appearance. Other than a few crow’s feet, a couple of creases on his forehead, and thicker stubble on his sharp jaw, he looked the same. Ten years out of the Army left him with slightly longer hair, but the daily running had maintained his peak physical form. There wasn’t a single gray hair amidst the light brown. Unless Liza had gotten a blow to the head that wiped her memory clean, there was no way she didn’t recognize him. Andthat lookon her face indicated she was well-aware of who he was.

How had she ended up there? Part of him was convinced she’d sought out the job because of him, but why in the fresh hell would she do that after he’d—

He clamped his eyes shut as the memory of what he’d done to her gave way to the picture of Morales, pale and blue on Scott and Ophelia’s lawn, all of which gave way to the ghost-like faces of his long-lost brothers-in-arms, and if Connor didn’t want to end up in a fetal position on the bathroom floor, he needed to get control of himself.

He shoved away from the counter, throwing the shower curtain aside and stepping in, and the shock of cold drenching him shook him out of his tortured mind. He rubbed his eyes and his thoughts drifted to Liza’s face.

More mature and elegant, but still classic and captivating as it had been. Full lips. Elegant, arching brows, and lush, obsidian lashes over big, hazel eyes. It wasn’t all that different fromLizzie’sface, which was what she’d gone by way back when, and what the hell was that all about? There was a reason she was here, and he was going to figure it out.

He just hoped he wouldn’t implode in the process.

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