Page 5 of Love On Deck
“Of course,” she says in a long-suffering tone. “It’s just that we haven’t seen you.”
Oh, here we go,he thinks and sighs. “I know, sis, I know.”
Connor takes another drink to mask his relief at not being on the hot seat any longer. He and Casey have gone around and around about Connor’s season schedule and how much easier it is for Casey to fly to Oklahoma than for Connor to fly to Austin. He’s even offered to pay for her plane fare. She never takes him up on it and then gets put out when they only see each other at Thanksgiving and Christmas every year.
“What about you, Andrew?” asks Will. “Any plans for the day?”
Andrew says, “I’m hoping for some sun today. I’ve spent way too much time behind my desk and not enough—”
“On it,” Connor murmurs to himself.
Andrew’s gaze flicks to Connor, but Connor can’t tell if Andrew actually heard him or not. With his big blue eyes, wispy blond hair, and muscular frame, the man looks like a cross between Adonis and a cherub, and he’s fucking hot.
“—time out on the lake,” Andrew finishes.
The conversation flows about Andrew’s love of the water and water sports while they finish their beverages.
The sun slants in through the window and Connor shifts in the warmth. He unbuttons his cuffs and rolls up a sleeve.
“Connor Kulyk—is that another tattoo?” asks Casey, bringing the conversation to a halt.
Shit. He’d forgotten.
“Casey,” says Will, settling a hand on her arm.
“No. We talked about this. We agreed.”
Connor’s heart rate ticks up a notch. Again. And he takes a deep breath. Again. “No, Casey. I agreed that your opinions are just that—your opinions.”
“They’re permanent,” she says.
Connor sighs. “Yes, Case, tattoos are permanent. Sometimes that’s the point.”
Casey huffs and looks at Andrew. “How do you feel about tattoos?”
Connor stiffens. Jesus Christ. She’s always got to make a fucking point.
Andrew shrugs, and Connor’s relieved to see the slight upturn of the man’s lips. Lips that— Nope, not going there.
“To be honest, Casey,” Andrew says, “tats can be pretty appealing.”
“Really?” She puts on her prim face and Connor shudders internally at how like Baba his sister can be. Which is why he’s kept his orientation to himself.
Andrew nods. “Really,” he says, an eyebrow rising and the timber of his voice lowering. His gaze strays to Connor’s arm.
Casey blushes, Will chuckles, and Connor wonders what Andrew would think about the rest of his ink since he hadn’t allowed him to see them last night.
“But they’re so…random.”
“They generally do have meaning, honey,” says Will. “Even if we don’t understand them, they have meaning for Connor. I mean, did you know he has the date of your parents’ death on his collarbone?”
Casey’s eyes boggle a bit. She looks from Will to Connor.
He tugs down the collar of his tee shirt and shrugs. “Our life completely changed that day, Casey. It’s just there to remind me.”
She sobers and nods, as if giving her okay for that one. Connor takes another breath, resisting the desire to snap at her. She waves a hand at the music staff, treble clef, and the series of notes that line the inside of his right forearm from wrist to elbow. “And that?”
“You played the trumpet for Christ’s sake. You should know music when you see it.”
