P.S. I'm Pregnant. Heidi Rice
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Mr Brod… I mean, Connor. I’ve got something to say and I…’ She rushed the words and then came to a complete stop, her tongue stalling on the apology she’d worked out.
Then Gino stepped up to the booth. ‘Hello, Daisy luv. What’ll it be? The usual?’
Daisy stared blankly at her friend, struggling for a second to remember what her usual was. ‘No, thanks, no muffin today.’ She’d probably choke on it. ‘Just a latte, not too heavy on the froth.’
‘As always, my lovely,’ Gino said as he jotted the order on his pad, his broad cockney accent belying the swarthy Italian colouring he’d inherited from his mother. ‘What’s your poison, mate?’ he asked, addressing Brody.
‘Espresso.’
‘Coming right up,’ Gino replied. Then to Daisy’s consternation he tucked his pad under his arm and offered Brody his hand. ‘Gino Jones, by the way. This is my place,’ he said as Brody shook it. ‘Haven’t seen you in here before. What’s your name?’
Daisy rolled her eyes. She’d forgotten what a busybody Gino could be.
‘Connor Brody,’ Brody replied. ‘I moved in next door to Daisy a few weeks back.’
Gino frowned, releasing Brody’s hand. ‘You’re not the bloke who—’
Daisy coughed loudly. Good God, had she blabbed to Gino about Brody too? Why did she have such a big mouth? ‘Actually, we’re in a hurry, Gee,’ she said, slanting Gino her ‘shut up, you idiot’ look. ‘I’ve left Ju alone on the stall and the market will be heaving soon.’
‘No sweat,’ Gino said carefully. ‘I’ll go get your drinks.’ Then he shot her his ‘don’t think I won’t ask you about this guy later’ look and left.
‘You know, it’s funny,’ Brody said, although he didn’t sound at all amused, ‘but people around here don’t like me much.’ The statement sounded slightly disingenuous, but Daisy suspected that was wishful thinking on her part.
Her stomach sank to the soles of her shoes as guilt consumed her.
Time to stop messing about and give the man the apology she owed him. And she better make it a good one.
‘Mr… Sorry, Connor.’ She stalled again, forced herself to continue. ‘I’ve behaved pretty badly. Climbing into your garden, accusing you of…’ She paused. Don’t say you thought he killed the cat, you twerp. ‘Of not helping to find Mrs V’s cat. And then…’ The blush was back with a vengeance as he watched her, his face impassive. ‘This morning I forced you to make love to me. And then I ran off without saying goodbye. I feel completely ashamed of my behaviour… It was incredibly tacky and I’m awfully sorry. And I’d like to make it up to you.’ She stumbled to a stop, not sure what else to say.
His expression had barely changed throughout her whole rambling speech. Maybe he’d looked a little surprised at first, but then his face had taken on this inscrutable mask.
‘Hmm,’ he said, the sound rumbling up through his chest. For some strange reason, Daisy’s knees began to shake. She crossed her legs.
He cocked his head to one side. ‘That’s a lot of sins you’ve to make up.’
‘I know,’ she said, hoping she sounded suitably contrite.
To her surprise, he reached across the table and took her hand in his, threading his fingers through hers. ‘What makes you think I was being forced, Daisy Dean? Did it seem to you I wasn’t enjoying myself?’
She gulped past the dryness tightening her throat. How had they got onto this topic? ‘No, it’s not that. It’s just. I was rather demanding. I don’t think I gave you much of a choice in the matter.’
She ought to tug her fingers away, but somehow they’d got tangled up in his. Just as her stomach was now tangled in knots.
He rubbed his thumb across her palm, making her fingers curl into his. ‘You’d be wrong about that,’ he said. ‘You gave me a choice and I took it. With a great deal of enthusiasm.’
His thumb began stroking her wrist, doing appalling things to her pulse rate. She was just about to muster the will to pull her hand away when he let her go and sat back.
Gino cleared his throat loudly and slid their coffees onto the table.
‘Here you go, folks.’ Gino sent Daisy a searching look, raising his eyebrows pointedly, before leaving them alone.
No doubt Gino was as confused as she was. Why had she been holding Brody’s hand? Letting him caress her like that? It wasn’t as if they were intimate. Well, not in the proper sense.
She wrapped her hands around her coffee mug to keep them out of harm’s way. ‘I’m so glad there are no hard feelings,’ she said.
At least she would be glad, once she’d got away from that penetrating gaze.
‘Not about making love to you, no,’ he said, the Irish in his voice brushing over her like an aphrodisiac. ‘There are no hard feelings about that. I enjoyed it, a lot. And, I think, so did you.’ It wasn’t a question. ‘But as to the rest,’ he continued. ‘There you’ve more explaining to do.’
Her cup clattered onto the table and coffee slurped over the rim. ‘I do?’
‘Why did you run off?’
‘I don’t know,’ she lied, and then felt guilty again when he lifted one dark brow. He wasn’t buying it.
‘It was a bit too intense,’ she said. ‘And I don’t usually jump into bed with men I hardly know.’ She clamped her mouth shut. Half the truth would have to do. Because she was getting the weird sensation she was being toyed with, lured into some kind of a trap. Which was preposterous, of course, but Daisy never ignored her instincts.
‘That’s good to know,’ he said. She took a gulp of the hot coffee and then reached for her bag. ‘I’m so glad we got all this settled. I’d hate for us not to be friends. Especially as you live right next door.’
Which made the whole thing even more awful. How was she going to face him every day if her hormones went into meltdown every time she looked at him? She’d have to get that little problem under control and quickly. But for now she decided distance was probably the best medicine. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she slid out of the booth and offered her hand. ‘I’ll see you around. The coffees are on me. I’ll tell Gino to put them on my tab. Thanks for being so understanding.’
He clasped her hand, the warm, rough feel of his palm sending little shivers up her arm—and held on. ‘Sit down. We’re not finished.’
‘We’re not?’
He nodded at the booth seat. ‘There’s still the matter of the making up to settle.’
‘What?’ She plopped back in her seat, not at all sure she liked the commanding tone.
‘The making up.’
Finally he let her hand go. She tucked it under the table, her fingers tingling.
‘You said you wanted to make up for what you’d done,’ he said calmly. ‘And we’re going to have to sort it now, because I don’t have much time.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I’m catching the Eurostar to Paris in a little over an hour. I’ve got eight days there and then I’ll be two weeks in New York.’
Daisy’s shoulders slumped with relief. Thank you, God. She had no idea why he was telling her his itinerary, but at least she’d have over three weeks before she had to see him again. She should be well over this silly chemical reaction by then. ‘That’s wonderful. I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time. I’ll miss you,’ she added, a tad concerned to realise it was the truth.
‘Not for long, you won’t,’ he said, the predatory smile that tugged at his lips concerning her a whole lot more.