His words unleashed a rush of insecurity within me. He’d had dozens, maybe hundreds, of women. Was the mystery of not remembering that night the only real appeal I held for him? “What if it’s not worth it? What if I’m not worth it?”
“I think we both know that ain’t the case.”
I squeezed the balled up panties in my hand. They were an excellent reminder that I needed to get moving. “As much as I’d love to discuss this further, I really do need to go.”
Con dropped his arm from the back of the couch and checked his watch. “It’s five thirty. You gonna be able to sneak into Daddy’s house without raising the alarm?”
Shit. Given that it was still nearly pitch black outside, I’d hoped it was earlier. My father would already be up. Although, if I were lucky, he might already be gone.
“Let me worry about that.” I thought about pulling up in front of our house in the Garden District on the back of Con’s bike. Yeah. Nope. “Although, I guess I should probably take a cab…” I let my words trail off.
Con’s arrogant smirk snapped back into place as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t worry, princess. I get it. I can drop you off around the corner. Your walk of shame will be short, at least.”
The bitter tone that had crept into his voice sliced away a little of the pleasure of last night. It seemed like our differences loomed larger than ever. But did they really? I was standing in a multi-million dollar mansion on Lake Pontchartrain. The difference between Con and me wasn’t the money we had in the bank, because I had a sneaking suspicion that Con might have more than I did. The difference was wrapped up in how we felt about that money. Con seemed to hate it. Distrust it. Resent it. Whereas I accepted it. Appreciated it. Wanted to use it to change lives. Although Con was doing more than his part with respect to changing lives—his gym and his boys were proof of that. I wasn’t sure if we could get beyond this divide. It was ingrained, possibly unchangeable. But then again, maybe not.
I met Con’s dark blue eyes. “I’d love a ride. Thank you.”
Vanessa on the back of my Harley should have been all sorts of wrong. But it wasn’t. It felt too damn right. Just like it had felt too damn right falling asleep last night with my arms wrapped around her. But that wasn’t something I would let myself get used to. I’d trained myself early on not to get attached to things. Like the foster families of my early years who’d had no problem tossing me back into the system over some stupid kid prank I’d pulled. Or even something as simple as a stuffed animal. If it wasn’t mine to keep, I didn’t let myself get used to it.
So I ignored the feel of Vanessa’s arms wrapped around my stomach as I changed lanes and eventually glided into the parking lot of a bookstore a few blocks from her house. Taking my Harley any further into the quiet streets of the Garden District would alert the neighborhood to the presence of a guy who didn’t belong. Didn’t matter that I still owned a damn house on those streets. Just like the lake house, I hadn’t been able to let it go after Joy and Andre were gone. It seemed wrong to sell something they’d loved so much. But it was a house for a family, and I was pretty fucking sure I’d never have one of my own. I couldn’t go through losing another one.
I cut the engine and climbed off the bike, once again helping Vanessa with her helmet. I hoped she never got the hang of it because it gave me an excuse to touch her.
Fucking pathetic.
I needed to kick my own ass.
She scooted off the bike, careful to keep from flashing the world with her goods. I knew because I watched closely.
“You good?” I asked.
She nodded, smoothing her clothing into place.
“Thank you. For the ride. For last night. For everything.”
“Don’t mention it.”
I sat on the bike sideways, watching as she turned and took one step away from me. But I wasn’t ready to let her go. I grabbed her hand and hauled her back into my arms. I crushed my mouth to hers and stole whatever words might have spilled from her lips.
She’d never know it, but that kiss was to brand her as mine.
I released her, and she stumbled back on her heels, eyes wide. She lifted a hand to that luscious mouth I’d just devoured.
I couldn’t stop the grin from forming on my lips. “Have a good one, princess. I’ll be in touch.”
Hennessy was waiting in the alley at Voodoo when I killed the engine and walked my bike into my garage.
“Heard you had some trouble last night,” he called from where he leaned against the brick wall.
I dropped my helmet on the seat. “Yeah.”
“And you were conveniently unavailable even though witnesses put you at the scene.”
Fucking assholes. Apparently my staff needed to learn they were supposed to be helpful in their statements to the cops—but only to a point.
“Well, detective, I’m conveniently available now. And flattered that you’re waiting on me at,” I looked down to check my watch, “just shy of six o’clock. Slow morning?”
“Slower than yours, it seems.”