Tempted Again (11 page)

“That’s okay. I can bring that in.”

“I’m sorry the guys couldn’t stay long enough to put the bed together for you.”

“It’s together. This is just the headboard that goes against the wall. No problem. You go on. I’ll take care of this.” Marissa gave her an awkward hug. “Thanks again.”

Jess was gone a moment later.

Marissa eyed the headboard before trying to lift it on her own. Damn, it was much heavier than it looked.

Then she heard a familiar male cop voice ask, “Need help?”

Chapter Seven

Marissa
turned to face Connor. “No, thank you.”

“Step aside.” When she hesitated, he put his hands on her shoulders and gently moved her. Marissa instantly felt the impression of his fingers through her thin T-shirt. Unexpected flares of awareness hummed from her head to her toes. His touch was brief but created such a powerful reaction that Marissa didn’t know what to do about it.

This was the first time Connor had touched her since she’d returned to Hopeful and he’d already released her from his hold physically. But emotionally she felt a connection that took her back to their days together. And that totally disconcerted her.

If she responded so intensely to a passing contact, she could only imagine what a more intimate exchange might be like. The chemistry that had burned so brightly
all those years ago was still present for her. Which made Connor dangerous to her peace of mind.

“You can just leave it here,” she said the instant he entered her apartment.

“You plan on sleeping in your hallway? Don’t be silly.” He carried the headboard to her bedroom. He slid it into place and eyed her entire bed. “Hey, I recognize this.”

Connor remembered the bed from the one time that he’d stolen into her bedroom when her parents were out. He’d parked his car a block away.

“Your mom came home early and almost caught us. I had to crawl out your bedroom window and climb down that old oak tree.”

“You don’t remember me but you remember the bed?” she said. “That’s just weird.”

“I don’t forget something like that.”

“Like what?”
Like loving her? Like thinking she was “the one”?

“Like almost getting caught by an angry parent,” he said.

That figures. It was all about
him
. Not her. She refused to show how much that fact aggravated her. “I’m surprised. I would have thought it would have happened to you a lot in high school.”

“All through high school, I went steady with Becka and her parents adored me. They were very liberal about house rules so there was no need to crawl out of windows and risk breaking my neck climbing down a huge tree.”

“Isn’t that just peachy for you.” She quickly moved aside but tripped over a plastic box sitting on the floor. She ended up making a swan dive onto her mattress.
Since Connor reached out to grab her, she pulled him down with her. He rolled so he didn’t squish her.

They faced each other. She was so close she could see all the hard-to-decipher colors in his eyes. At the moment they seemed more gray than green or blue. His eye color was as hard to pin down as the man himself.

Yet here she was, pressed against him. She could feel the beat of his heart against the palm of her hand braced on his chest. They were both wearing worn jeans but he looked much sexier in his than she did in hers.

At the moment, which seemed frozen in time, sex was all she could think about. She knew she should move but she couldn’t seem to actually do it. Would kissing him be as good as she remembered? Did she dare find out?

No, she couldn’t risk it. Not yet. Spurred by fear, she leapt off the bed as if catapulted.

“Sorry about that,” she said, determined to sound nonchalant and blasé. “I didn’t mean to squish you like a pancake.”

He got to his feet much slower than she did. “No problem. You didn’t squish me.”

Of course there was a problem as far as Marissa was concerned. A huge gigantic problem. She was still attracted to Connor. She couldn’t let him see that. So she calmly walked out of the bedroom instead of shoving him out the door like a frenzied maniac.

He looked around the living/dining area with its meager furnishings.

“So are the rest of your things in storage?” he said.

“What?”

He pointed behind her. “Your things.”

“This is everything.”

The surprised look on his face made her regret her
honesty. She didn’t want his pity, which she feared would be his next expression. So she took preemptive action by saying, “I’m into minimalism.”

“Even minimalists need a table to eat off of,” he said.

“I’m having one delivered soon.”

“I thought you said this was everything.”

“Everything that I have right now. Tomorrow I’ll have a table and chairs.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. And why do you care about my furniture, anyway? Are you Nate Berkus or something?”

“Who?”

“Never mind. Thanks for your help but I’ve got a lot of stuff to do.” Now she did rush him to the door, careful not to slam it in his face but to act totally normal.

The second he was gone, she called her sister. “Meet me on Chestnut Street. We’re getting that free dining table.”

“You’re in luck. I’m already on Chestnut Street. I was going to surprise you. I’ve already loaded the chairs.” Jess drove a hybrid SUV.

“I’ll be right there,” Marissa said, grabbing her keys.

“No need. One of the Roberts brothers is helping me. Stay put. We’ll bring the furniture later. Sometime tomorrow. We’ve got someplace else to be right now. “

“Okay. Thanks.”

Marissa spent what was left of the day finding a place for her things. Since she had more space than things, that wasn’t real hard. Still, she’d moved things around a few times until she got it the way she wanted. The bedside table on the right or the left? She moved it three times and still couldn’t decide, distracted as she was by the memory of Connor sprawled beside her on the bed.

She made the bed with the new comforter set and sheets her mom had given her as a housewarming present. There. She eyed the results with approval. This was a bed Connor had never seen…and wasn’t likely to anytime soon.

A short time later her nesting mode was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at her door.

Thinking it must be her sister with the table and chairs, she opened it without checking. An Angelo’s Pizza delivery teenager stood there. “I didn’t order a pizza,” she said.

“It’s already paid for,” he said.

“There must be some mistake.”

“No mistake, ma’am.” He handed her the pizza.

She took it while still protesting. “Who paid for it? Hold on.” She grabbed her phone off the kitchen counter and speed dialed her mom. “Did you or Dad order a pizza for me?”

“No. But that was a good idea. Maybe your sister ordered it.”

Marissa eyed the nervous delivery guy suspiciously. “Was it the sheriff? Did he pay for the pizza?”

“I’m not allowed to say, ma’am.”

Okay that was the second time the teenager had called her “ma’am.” Her glare broke down his resistance. “Yes, it was the sheriff.” He took off before she could interrogate him further.

“Why would the sheriff order you a pizza?” Marissa’s mom asked over the phone.

“Never mind. It’s just a mistake,” Marissa said. “I’ll call you later.”

Without waiting to consider the consequences, she
marched the few feet to his door and knocked. He opened the door, still wearing the dark blue T-shirt and worn jeans he’d had on earlier.

“I don’t want your pity pizza.” She shoved the box at him.

“Okay. Bad idea.” Connor took the pizza and slammed the door in her face.

Marissa stood there a second, stunned. Then she
bammed
on his door.

The instant he opened it, she said, “Don’t slam the door on me. That’s rude.”

“So is shoving a pizza in my face.”

He was right. “It wasn’t your face,” she muttered.

“You know what I mean.”

“I was angry.”

“No kidding,” he drawled. “Don’t blame me for the crap your ex did to you.”

His accusation stung. “I don’t. I blame you for the crap
you
did to me.”

“That was ten years ago. Get over it.”

“I’m trying to.”

“By shoving a pizza at me?”

“Yes.”

“And how’s that working for you?”

“It sucks,” she admitted morosely. “Everything sucks. Except for the pizza. Does Angelo still make the best pizza ever?”

“You haven’t tried it since you’ve been back?”

She shook her head. She didn’t have extra funds for eating out. She’d applied every penny to getting a security deposit for an apartment. Her credit cards were maxed out so she couldn’t get a cash advance. “I’ve been
too busy,” she said. “Anyway I’m sorry if I overreacted to the pizza thing. Have a good night.” She turned and hurried toward the haven of her own place.

“Hold on a second.” He put a hand on the box. “It’s still warm. Will you have a hissy fit if I offer it to you?”

Her pride wouldn’t allow her to take his generous offering. But her mouth was watering. She didn’t have much food in the house yet. “That’s okay. But thanks.”

“You’re sure?” He held it out enticingly.

She nodded but couldn’t seem to move away. It’s as if the smell of tomato sauce and cheese and basil had her mesmerized. She blamed it on the pizza, not on Connor.

“Have a slice,” he said. “You know you want to.”

“Maybe just one slice…”

“You can take it with you if you’re afraid to come in.”

“It’s not a matter of being afraid.”

“Right. Well, there is the matter of me having a dining table while you don’t.”

“Only until tomorrow.”

“The pizza won’t last that long. Come in and eat.”

She was weak. She wanted pizza. Badly. Now. She stepped inside. “Just for a minute…”

She vowed she’d set a new record for “eat and run” even as she took a slice and the paper napkin he offered her. Then she had to sit down at his dining room table—a nice pine job that looked like it was handmade—because it was rude to stand there and eat like a feral rabbit. Not that rabbits ate pizza.

She could hear her mom saying “What? Were you raised by wolves? Take your elbows off the table. Close your mouth while chewing.” Marissa had been all of
five at the time. She liked to think she had better manners now.

She closed her eyes and briefly focused on the taste of the pizza. “No one makes a pizza like Angelo’s,” she said.

“Mmm.” Apparently Connor’s mom had taught him not to talk with his mouth full as well. A moment later he said, “Would you like a beer?”

She shook her head.

“I ran into Jose earlier today,” Connor said, offering her another slice before taking a second for himself. Seeing her eyes widen, he added, “No, I did not arrest him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

She’d actually been thinking how sexy Connor’s hands were but was not about to make that confession. Instead she kept chewing and enjoying. The thin crust was so crisp and there was something both spicy and sweet about the tomato sauce that made it unique and delicious.

“Apparently he was hired to spray-paint a guy’s car.”

Marissa nodded because her mouth was still full.

“So you knew about that?” Connor said, She nodded again.

“You didn’t think to share that info with me?”

She shook her head and kept chewing.

“Why not?”

She pointed to her mouth, indicating she was unable to reply at the moment.

“I’ll wait,” he said.

She swallowed and dabbed her mouth with the napkin.

“So?” he prompted her.

“Angelo’s Pizza is even better than I remember.” Connor’s touch was also better than she remembered. What had they been talking about? Oh yeah. Jose. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in Jose’s job.”

“We’re supposed to be working together on this project.”

“On Jose’s artwork?”

“You know what I mean,” he said.

“That was something he arranged outside of our group.”

Connor moved the pizza box closer to her, inviting her to take another slice. She took it. Her willpower was clearly nonexistent—at least where the pizza was concerned.

“What else has he arranged outside of the group?” Connor asked.

“What’s with the interrogation?” she countered. At this rate, this would be her last slice of pizza.

“I’m a cop. It’s what I do.”

“What made you leave Chicago and come back to Hopeful?”

“Now who’s conducting an interrogation?”

“It’s just a simple question.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Fine. Forget I asked.” Marissa knew her voice sounded huffy and she didn’t care. “Thanks for the pizza.” She moved to stand up but his hand on her arm stopped her. It also stopped her heart for a second. Again with the humming from her head to her toe. What was all that about?

“I didn’t mean to bite your head off,” he said gruffly.

Since she didn’t expect him to apologize she had no response for that.

Finally she said, “If you don’t want to talk about it…”

“I was ready for a change,” he said.