“Riggghhttt . . .”
“Okay.” I mumble and kiss her chastely on the cheek. I know Connor is waiting to finish dinner, and I have no inclination to stand out here all night and argue with her. “Have fun tonight.”
“You too big sister,” she laughs as I stomp back up the stairs.
After we finish eating, we set about clearing the table and the counters. Connor begins washing the dishes as I wipe down the sauce that splattered on stove.
“I made a huge mess, didn’t I?” he snorts as I toss the sponge on the back of the sink. I can’t stop myself from letting my eyes graze over his exposed chest and abs. I want so badly to get closer and inspect each tattoo, trace them with my fingers. But if Connor notices my intrigue with his body and body art, he doesn’t let on, which I’m grateful for.
“Things just got a little out of hand,” I laugh. Yanking a dishtowel out of the drawer next to me, I join him at the sink and begin drying what he’s washed. The jukebox is clicking as the record changes and after a few moments, Hey, Baby by Bruce Channel begins to play.
Connor raises his head as he listens for a moment. “Dirty Dancing?”
I can’t help laughing. “Yeah, it’s in Dirty Dancing. I love that movie.”
“Patrick Swayze was boss,” Connor notes.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” I sigh. “All I ever wanted was to be Baby.”
We continue doing the dishes, and before I know it we’re swaying side to side as we stand next to each other. It’s a moment before either of us realizes we’re doing it. When we do, we both bust out laughing, but Connor surprises me. He grabs my hand with his soapy one and pulls me to him. Warm water drips down my arm, from where our hands are joined, tickling my skin, but I don’t pull away. My back arches as instinct tells me to move closer to him, but Connor holds me steady, preventing it. There’s space between our bodies as we move, but we’re both smiling. I can’t remember the last time I danced. Feels like it’s been a million years. As we move, my gaze follows the thick vein that runs up his arm and the one that runs from his neck to the back part of his jaw. Connor sings the words and twirls me a few times before he lets me go.
Still smiling, he turns back to the dishes. “Sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
I like this playful side of him. He looks so dangerous and rough on the outside, but he’s quite funny and easy going. “That was fun. You’re a good dancer,” I note, as I take the dish he’s just washed and dry it. “I can’t remember the last time I even danced.”
“Well, there weren’t many dance offs where I’ve been for the last eight years,” he jokes. “Maybe we need to get out one night, hmm?”
“Maybe. Lexi knows all of the cool places to go. Maybe I’ll make her our escort.”
He smirks. “Let me know. I’ll see if I can pencil you in,” he jests.
Connor joined me for dinner two more times the same week. The first night we grilled burgers, and I taught him how to use his cell phone. On the second night, he helped me rearrange my living room furniture. But other nights he took off on his Harley. I never asked him where he went, but I was curious. If I had asked, I’m sure he would have told me, but I know it was none of my business.
We decide to go into town on Sunday to visit his grandmother, Grams, at her nursing home. Meryl Elouise Stevens is eighty-three-years-old and the life of the party even in her motorized wheelchair. The nursing home has called me a few times over the last few years to discuss her ‘flamboyant behavior.’ Meryl apparently had a gentlemen friend visiting her in her room late at night. They were caught a few times, but the last straw was when the guy had a heart attack.
On top of her.