The master bedroom was pitch black when something roused me from sleep. My entire body stiffened when I realized a large hand was pressed flat to my belly, and that hand was attached to a very large, very warm body spooned against my back.
“It’s me, Noemi. You can relax.” Conner’s tired voice melted around me like warm butter.
“I just picked a side,” I murmured sleepily.
He grunted. “There’s shit all over the dresser.”
“And the bathroom, too.” I grinned to myself. “My house, my shit.”
Seemingly too tired to argue, he only huffed before his breathing drifted into gentle snores.
The next time I woke, light seeped into the room from the edges of the drapes. Conner was no longer curled around me, though one of his hands still lightly held my forearm from where he lay as though he’d managed to keep tabs on me even in sleep.
He didn’t budge when I slipped from the bed. I wondered how late he’d come home. Not wanting to bother him and nowhere near comfortable enough for him to hear me pee, I used a guest bathroom before heading to the kitchen.
Conner had a surprising number of breakfast options, including bagels in the pantry and cream cheese in the fridge. Since he’d cooked for me the evening before, I thought I might throw some pancakes together. But first, coffee.
I opened cabinets until I found a coffee bar with an espresso machine and a Keurig. Next to it was a box of Starbuck’s Pike Place Roast cups, and behind that, a box of Green Mountain Hazelnut cups. Conner didn’t strike me as the type to drink novelty-flavored coffees. And because I loved to torture myself, I began to wonder if these had been purchased for someone else. Perhaps … a female someone.
My lips pursed tightly as though I’d tasted something bitter.
It had never occurred to me to ask about his prior relationships. That wasn’t true. It had crossed my mind, but an appropriate time had never presented itself. Normally, in a relationship, that sort of thing naturally came up over time as a couple learned about one another. We’d gone the fast track. I was married to this man and had no idea about his dating history. Hell, he could have been seeing someone when this whole thing started.
I groaned.
“I can show you how to use the machine.”
I startled at the sound of Conner’s voice. “Crap, you scared me. Make some noise when you walk.” The conviction in my voice trailed off the second my eyes landed on his shirtless form strolling in from the living room.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Will I ever get used to that sight?
Joggers hung low on his hips. Every inch of his delectable chest and arms were on display. Ink covered his entire left arm and shoulder. The designs were done entirely in black and bled onto his chest and back. He had a smattering of dark hair on his chest and muscles for miles—the thick, mature kind that couldn’t be bought in a gym.
“Um … I know how, actually,” I mumbled. “My mom was a huge coffee fanatic. We had a cappuccino machine at home. This one isn’t so different.”
“We can switch to cappuccino if you prefer. Doesn’t much matter to me.” He flipped a switch on the fancy machine.
“I think espresso sounds good.” New place, new routines. Having morning espresso with my husband might actually be nice.
“There are bagels and cream cheese if you want.”
“I saw that. You like them, too?”
“Not much of a breakfast person myself.”
“Then why …” I stopped, realizing he’d bought them for me. He’d bought all of it for me.
Well, damn.
There he went being all sweet again. It was strange. He wasn’t flowery or poetic, but a softer side lurked beneath that gruff exterior.
“Um, I had thought about making pancakes for us, but if you don’t want anything, a bagel works great.” I pulled the bag of bakery bagels out of the pantry and hunted down a serrated knife for slicing. Once I’d cut my bagel and found the toaster, I turned and leaned my back against the counter’s edge.
Conner had the coffee brewing and was retrieving something from the dining table. “Here, this is for you.” He handed me a brand-new iPhone. “My number and a couple others are programmed in already. Bishop is in there. If you can’t get ahold of me, call him.”
“Thanks.” I hadn’t thought about it, but I definitely didn’t want to keep using the phone my dad had given me.
“You have an idea of what you want to do?”
I stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t expect you to sit here all day just because we’re married. What did you do before?”
“I was in school, then Mom died, and Dad didn’t really let me do anything.” I felt oddly self-conscious telling him that. I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t my fault my father was an asshole or that I’d lost my mother, but admitting to having zero purpose in life felt embarrassing.
“What did you plan to do before all that happened?”
I shrugged. “I wasn’t exactly sure. The kind of things that interested me weren’t really career-type pursuits.”
“Like what?”
I debated how silly I’d look telling him the truth when the toaster ejected my bagel behind me and sent me shooting away from the counter. Slamming into his hard chest, I gasped, looking up into molten sapphire eyes.
“Excuse me,” I whispered.
Conner’s hands moved from my arms where he’d caught me and trailed down to my lower back, pulling me snug against him. He brought his face down to my neck and inhaled. “You always this jumpy in the morning?”
Now I was jumpy and breathless because his cock quickly grew hard between us. We didn’t have sex last night, but how long would he wait? How would I know when I was ready?
A flurry of questions rained down on me, prompting me to wiggle free.
“Gotta grab my bagel before it burns or gets cold or something,” I mumbled, scurrying back to the toaster.
When I glanced over at my new husband, his mouth was quirked upward in a knowing smirk.
“This is yours also.” He went to his wallet on the counter and pulled out a black card, sliding it across the island to me. A credit card. And it had my name on it.
My eyes widened.
Conner’s narrowed. “Let me guess, that asshole kept your money hostage as well?”
“You say that like I had money,” I answered softly.
He shook his head and returned to the coffee machine, retrieving his freshly poured cappuccino. “Well, you have money now. Think about what you want to do. I have to run some errands this morning, but I’ll be back after lunch. You okay until then?”
“Yeah, of course.”
He nodded and took his coffee to the bedroom, presumably to get ready. Somewhat bemused, I plopped myself on a barstool and spread cream cheese on my bagel. How very strange. I didn’t know what I’d expected from Conner, but this wasn’t it. Maybe I’d been hasty to assume he was incapable of caring for me. Maybe what he was offering would be enough. If I had freedom and a certain degree of respect, I could be happy. Probably. And if I had money, I could access the things I needed to get my brother away from our dad.
Then what, genius? You think Dad will just let Sante go?
The few bites I’d had churned in my stomach. Was I willing to run? Could I gather enough money to escape with Sante? Did I want to do that? And if I didn’t, what did that say about me as a sister? Didn’t I have to at least try to save him?
The remainder of my appetite shriveled up and disappeared.
I needed to hear Sante’s voice and reassure myself he was okay. I wasn’t sure why. I just needed to, but I didn’t want to call when Conner was around. He already thought poorly of my brother, and I didn’t want to somehow make things worse.
While I waited for Conner to leave for work, I debated which phone to use. I still had the disposable phone he’d originally given me. That would ensure no one tracked my end of the conversation, but knowing Sante’s phone would be monitored made any efforts at privacy pointless. I might as well use the new phone and trust that my new husband was telling the truth about not stalking my every move.
I called my brother the minute I was alone, relieved when he answered.
“Yeah,” he barked over the line, answering the unknown number with a degree of authority that made me smile.
“Hey, little brother. It’s me.”
“Em! How are you?” All pretense melted from his voice. “I’ve been so worried.”
“I’m just fine. No need to worry about me.” I wished I could tell him all about Conner, but I didn’t want my father to hear. The less he knew about my husband, the better. “What have you been up to?”
“The usual, mostly,” he said vaguely.
“Mostly?” I didn’t think I was prying, but when Sante replied, his voice was strained.
“You know I can’t talk about that stuff, Em.” His defensive response startled me.
“Yeah, I didn’t mean to be nosy. Wasn’t sure if you meant you’d gone out on a hot date or whatnot.” I tried to play it off, but worry knotted my stomach.
He was silent for several seconds. “There’s stuff … Ah!” He cut himself off with an angry burst. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad to hear you’re okay. Look, I gotta go. This your new number?”
“Yeah. Call me anytime.”
“Great. Take care, and I’ll be in touch.” He hung up before I could reply.
Shit. What the hell is going on with him?
I needed to have an open conversation without our father looming over us. I stared at the burner I’d dug out of my things while unpacking and wondered if I couldn’t do the same thing for Sante that Conner had done for me. Could I get a disposable phone to him undetected? Surely, I could manage that. And from there, who knew what might be possible.
