The Connaghers Series Boxed Set Page 16

  Lightly, her hands cupped his cheeks. Startled, he jerked his eyes open. She leaned over him, so lovely and innocent he wanted to roar his pain like a mindless beast.

  “I’ve dreamed about it too, many times. I’d go on my knees for you.”

  The fist threatened to bust its way through his gut, matching the fierce surge of relief in his heart. He breathed deeply, slowly, waiting for the pulse to ease. “We’ve got plenty of time. I refuse to rush you, darlin’, not with this.”

  His body protested, but he forced himself to help her fix the bodice of her dress, when what he really wanted to do was throw her onto his desk and bury himself between her thighs. Every muscle in his body strummed with need. “I’ll be honest, Rae. I’m walking a fine line right now. I’ve never been so close to losing control. I still want you to push me. Test me as hard as you can, whatever you need. I don’t have any regrets. But damn it all to hell, this is killing me.”

  A slow, sexy smile curved her lips. “Five years ago, I thought your final was going to kill me.”

  “Payback’s a bitch.”

  15

  Enthusiastic clapping followed Conn’s speech. Dean Strobel presented his award as Drury’s favorite professor for the fourth year in a row. His colleagues crowded around him, slapping him on the back, laughing, snapping pictures.

  Miss Belle dabbed a hanky delicately at her eyes. “I’m so proud.”

  Blinking back tears herself, Rae smiled and let the old lady take her hand. Conn made his way to them. Joy bubbled up inside her as his eyes locked on hers, heating and sparking.

  “Congratulations,” she whispered, unsure how much celebration he’d think appropriate. He surprised her by gathering her close and planting a big noisy kiss on her mouth.

  Dean Strobel made a rueful sound as she joined them. “Miss Belle, I do believe your grandson is finally settling down.”

  Conn kept his arm around her waist, drawing her against the heat of his body. “Dean Strobel, let me introduce you to Rae Jackson.”

  From her memories of her college years, Rae braced for a grim and reserved welcome. The dean shocked her with a warm smile, actually taking her hand between both of hers. “I’m so glad to finally meet you, Rae.” She tugged Rae closer, bending down to whisper loudly in her ear. “You made him work harder than any student here at Drury, so keep him on his toes.”

  “I wager our boy worked her just as hard.” Miss Belle arched her brow at Conn, a wicked smile curving her lips. “Nothing would make me prouder right now except a dozen grandchildren running around.”

  Heat seared Rae’s cheeks.

  “He’s got it bad,” Dean Strobel agreed, releasing Rae. “I watched you both like a hawk.”

  Rae resisted the urge to bury her face in Conn’s chest. What if the dean had caught them that last day of finals? Or just now? What if she asked why Rae had left college, or worse, why it had taken so long for her to come back? Her head pounded until she felt sick.

  “We were both very good, Dean.” Conn laughed and tightened his arm around her. “Very good indeed.”

  Rae dug her thumb into his side, grating on a rib hard enough he grunted softly.

  “Knowing you, Verrill, I seriously doubt that,” Miss Belle sniffed loudly. “You obviously did something horrific to scare her away for so long.”

  Rae turned toward him, clutching a handful of his shirt beneath the coat. Her face felt crisped to a cinder. How much did they know?

  “Yes, horrific.” Conn’s voice softened and he wrapped his other arm around her so he held her protectively. “Don’t worry, though, Miss Belle—she’s definitely making me suffer for my indiscretion.”

  “Ha,” Miss Belle said. “She needs my parasol to do it justice. It’ll be my wedding present to the both of you.”

  Wrapped tight against him, Rae felt the vibration of his cell phone. She stepped back and Conn pulled it out to check the number. The furrow between his eyes warned her immediately that something might be wrong. “Excuse me a moment.”

  He stepped aside, his voice low. All she caught was, “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

  “Mason?” Dean Strobel asked softly, her brown eyes concerned.

  “Yeah. You know what tonight is.”

  “Oh dear. That poor man.” Miss Belle dabbed at her eyes with the hanky, and this time, Rae thought she might have actually seen a little suspicious moisture.

  “Sorry to have to take my award and run,” Conn started to apologize, but Dean Strobel waved him toward the exit. “I’ll make sure he gets to class tomorrow.”

  “You’re a good friend, Conn.”

  They left quickly, Conn’s face still grim.

  “Conn, you drive. Rae Lynn, take the front. I’ll sit in the back so I can talk with your friend.”

  “He’s not going to want to talk about it.” He slid behind the wheel, his voice short and clipped. “Frankly, he’s scared of you. After he sobers up, he’ll be embarrassed that you saw him this way.”

  “So he should,” Miss Belle replied tartly. “Why don’t you tell us what you know so I can help him.”

  Conn reached over and took Rae’s hand, his thumb brushing back and forth on her knuckles. “Mason teaches mathematics and while he’s a little nerdy,” he arched a brow at her, daring her to say he was, too, “he’s been my best friend since I moved here from Texas. He married the love of his life shortly after I moved here, and I was his best man. Julie worked for the state patrol, cruising I-44 mainly to catch the drug trade moving up to St. Louis. It’s a dangerous line of work, and Mason wanted her to quit. He made a comfortable living, he loved her, and he wanted her to be Mrs. Susie Housewife with a passel of children. But Julie loved her job, and she felt a calling to serve the community.

  “They fought about it a lot: Mason pressured her; Julie felt defensive. I stayed out of it but listened to them both. They’d certainly been there for me when I went through a rough patch.”

  Rae knew exactly what he meant. He’d gone to them for comfort after she’d left college and never returned. Her heart ached. She’d hurt him, but she’d been hurt too, and she hadn’t had anyone to talk to. That’s why she’d written him so many letters.

  “Right before Julie left for work one night, they had a particularly nasty fight. Just a few hours later, she was killed on a routine traffic stop. She’d stopped to help a family in a stalled vehicle, and a passing car struck her.” His voice tightened along with his fingers. “Mason fell apart. His worst fear had happened, and I think he felt guilty. Their last moments had been an ugly fight, and he could never take back the hurtful words.”

  Conn parked the car in front of Dooley’s, an old-fashioned pub where graduate students and professors usually hung out. “I’ll be right back.”

  Sitting in the dark, Rae thought she heard whispering from the back seat. She shifted in the leather seat as quietly as possible. Miss Belle leaned to the side, whispering quietly as though she had someone sitting right beside her.

  Chills raced down Rae’s spine. She opened her mouth to ask if the old lady was okay, but the back car door opened.

  “It’s going to be okay, Mason. I’ll take you home and you can sleep it off.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know you had company. I wondered why you weren’t in your Mustang.” Looking from Miss Belle to Rae in the front, the man straightened, visibly trying to bring himself together for the ladies in the car. “Oh hell, that’s why you’re dressed up. I forgot about the award! Damn it, Conn, why didn’t you tell me to buzz off when I called?”

  His voice was slurred and thick, but Rae suspected he was more upset than drunk, although the fumes of alcohol definitely wafted into the car.

  “You’re more important than an award. Of course I came when you called.”

  “I shouldn’t have called,” Mason muttered, swiping a hand across his face wearily. He let Conn help him into the back seat. “You’re too good a friend.”

  “You should always call. That’s what frien
ds are for.” Conn hurried around the car and slid into the driver’s seat. “Don’t you remember how many times I called you in the middle of the night, and what did you always tell me?”

  “It’s going to get better,” he whispered. His gaze locked on Rae, sharpening with interest despite his condition. Then his eyes swam with tears and he shuddered, closing his eyes. “But your love didn’t die.”

  “Mason Wykes.” Even Rae flinched at the intensity in Miss Belle’s voice. Reluctantly, Mason looked up at the old lady beside him. “Your love has been very patient with you, but now it’s time to let her go.”

  The hair on the back of Rae’s neck stood straight up. The old lady’s voice was hollow and distant, and the temperature inside the car plummeted at least ten degrees.

  “Why are you being so selfish?”

  Mason spluttered, but Miss Belle pushed onward with the strength and determination of a cavalry charge.

  “She’s waiting for you to accept her death before she can leave. She lingers with you, unable to move on, mourning your grief. She hates what you’re doing to yourself. She rails at you, but you can’t hear. You’re blind and deaf to everything but yourself. Until you fix the breach in your heart and accept her passing, she cannot rest in peace.”

  Despite the harsh reality in the old lady’s words, her eyes were kind and she patted Mason’s shaking hand.

  “She’s here with us, right this very moment, and she says she needs you to forgive yourself. Her death was not your fault.”

  Shoulders shaking and hands fisted, Mason made a low growling moan through clenched teeth. “It is my fault. We argued all the time about her job, and that night… She said she was leaving me.”

  Conn shifted, drawing Rae’s attention. The muscles in his cheeks flexed, but his fingers were gentle on hers. He must not have known the extent of his friend’s marital problems.

  “She’s laughing. She said to tell you that not even your mumblings about Runge Kutta could make her leave, whatever that means.”

  Mason choked back a laugh and tears ran freely down his cheeks. “A joke she always made. My doctorate thesis was on different methods of numerical analysis. She’s here? Truly?”

  “Yes,” Miss Belle answered softly. “She says she would never have left you in a million years. Those words were spoken in anger. Even now, she’s still here with you, waiting until you can say goodbye. Don’t you want her to have the peace she deserves? She’ll wait for you on the other side, but you’ve got to let her go.”

  “How?” Mason’s voice broke. “How do I say goodbye to someone when losing her ripped my heart out of my chest?”

  “What’s the number one thing you want to say to her?”

  Pressure built in the car, the air thick and cold. Shivering, Rae, held onto Conn’s hand and tried to tell herself nothing odd was happening. He turned off the tree-lined side street into a driveway of a modest-sized family home, and parked. Nobody moved.

  “Tell her, Mason,” Miss Belle urged. “Now’s the time to say what you didn’t say to her that night. This is your last chance to make things right.”

  Chills erupted down Rae’s arms at the words of her motto. What if Conn had died in an accident before she’d ever had the chance to explain why she’d run? If she’d never had the chance to kiss him and feel his strength wrapped around her? Her throat hurt and tears burned her eyes.

  “I’ll always love you, Julie,” Mason whispered. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry about everything.”

  “She loves you, too, and she wants you to let her go. She wants you to live. Put away your grief, especially your guilt, and live again, Mason.”

  “Julie,” Mason whispered, his ragged voice shaking in the silence. “I love you, baby. Goodbye.”

  The last word hung on the air, vibrating, and the tension suddenly popped. Rae jumped, and Conn’s hand tightened convulsively on hers.

  Miss Belle’s voice sounded tired. “Help him to bed, Conn.”

  Muttering and crying, although he’d surely deny it later, Mason proved to be a handful for Conn to wrestle out of the car. His friend was never going to forget that people had seen him like this, falling down drunk and morose. Conn finally got him up out of the car and headed for the house. Mason stumbled into him and they both nearly went down in a heap.

  Rae appeared, taking Mason’s other arm and hauling some of his weight up across her shoulders.

  “Thank you, kind lady.” Mason stared at her like he’d never seen her before. “You’re Conn’s Rae, right?”

  She shot a wry glance at Conn. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Conn’s Rae. He liked the sound of that.

  Huffing and puffing, they struggled to get him up the steps. Conn propped his friend up against the wall and dug in his coat pockets to find his keys.

  Mason squealed like a little girl and squirmed against her. “Sorry, ticklish,” he gasped out, laughing. “Don’t bother. It’s not locked.”

  Conn tested the door handle. “Son of a bitch. Why not hang a ‘Come on in’ sign for all the burglars in the neighborhood?”

  He pushed the door open and heaved Mason back up from the wall.

  “Nothing to steal. Anyway, I don’t care.” His voice caught and a shudder went through him. “I haven’t cared in a long time, have I?”

  “You care about a lot of things, buddy. You care about your students, and you certainly care about me.”

  “I don’t give a damn about you,” Mason muttered, but he rubbed his eyes and sagged against him.

  “The hell you don’t. Why else do you drag yourself out of bed at six a.m. to bang swords with me?”

  “Because I’m a geek who loves the Renaissance Period almost as much as differential equations.”

  Instead of dragging him up the flight of stairs, Conn chose the couch in the den. He knew Mason often slept there because he couldn’t bear the memories. He’d threatened to light up the whole place and burn it to the ground, but Conn knew the memories would still eat him up.

  “Speaking of the Renaissance, did you know that only the Bible has more editions than Euclid’s Elements? I love the simplicity of his geometry.”

  Laughing, Conn tugged Mason’s shoes off. “Did you finish grading your midterms, Dr. Wykes?”

  “Oh God, no. I should have the grades ready for the students tomorrow, too.”

  With a groan, Conn shot a rueful gaze at Rae. He’d hoped to ask her to the cottage after dinner tonight, but if he had to grade calculus midterms, he’d be up half the night. “How many do you have left to grade?”

  “Just a few, probably twenty or so. You don’t have to grade them, Conn, really. I’ll get up early in the morning and finish.”

  By his muddled words, Mason was already half asleep. “You’re going to be lucky to make it to class at all in the morning. What time’s your first class?”

  “Mmm, nine o’clock. Plenty of time. I’ll just—” A snore escaped.

  “I’ll call you, okay? Just to make sure you’re up.”

  The lucky bastard didn’t make a response other than deeper breathing. It was going to take Conn at least three times as long to finish those blasted tests, assuming he understood the answer key. Digging around on the cluttered coffee table, he found the stack of tests.

  Shit, twenty my ass. Aloud, he muttered, “I’m going to be up all night.”

  Mason stirred and tried to lift his head but fell back against the cushion. “You’re a good friend.” Then he lapsed back into la-la-land.

  “You are a good friend,” Rae whispered.

  Raising his gaze to her face, he felt his heart stutter and die in his chest. He loved her more than he’d ever thought possible. She’d only been back in his life for a few days, but it didn’t matter. He wanted her more than anything he’d ever wanted in his entire life. If he lost her…

  Mason was an oak compared to how he’d react if he lost her again.

  “I wish—” She sighed, turning her face aside.

  No
hiding, not from him. He strode over and gently turned her face back to him. He kept his fingers on her face, gentle but firm, stroking over her cheek until she spoke again.

  “I wish I’d called you. I mean, before, when I was scared. I was afraid to hear your voice, afraid you’d talk me into doing something I wasn’t ready for, but now…” Her delicate face strained beneath his fingers with regret.

  “Anyplace, anytime, you call me, Rae. I’ll be there for you. I swear it.” He drew her against him, offering the shelter of his body and the strength of his embrace. “I won’t ever coerce you into something. If you’re in doubt, scared, or in trouble, call me. I’d do anything for Mason, but for you…”

  His voice trembled with emotion. She wrapped her arms tighter around his waist and tried to lighten the mood. “Slay dragons? Endure torture? Walk the plank?”

  Keeping his face somber, he said, “I’d even surf the net.”

  “My God,” Mason said, pushing up on his elbows. “You do love her. You won’t even read my e-mail.”

  “No, but I’ll grade your calculus tests, so we’re even.”

  “Get out of here and let me get some sleep.”

  “You’ve been asleep twice already.”

  Mason grouched, rolling over onto his side and throwing his arm up over his head. “If you two love birds would leave me alone, I’d stay asleep. Call me around eight a.m.”

  “Will do.” Conn headed for the door, his arm around Rae.

  “Conn?”

  He paused, looking back over his shoulder, but Mason hadn’t raised up again.

  “Thanks.”

  “Anytime, Mason. Anytime.”

  16

  Dear Dr. Connagher:

  I’m feeling rather beaten down today. So of course I felt like I should write to you.

  On our first anniversary, Richard gave me a puppy, a cute little miniature poodle mix I named Buddy. I adored the little dog. He went everywhere with me during the day, hanging around at Daddy’s office, riding in the truck with me to jobsites. He was always perfectly mannered for me.