Johnny (Connelly Cousins #2) (11 page)

“Right. What else?” he muttered.

Johnny stalked away, up the stairs, where he knew she could not follow, only to come down a few minutes later, fully dressed. He pulled on a black leather jacket, then tied a bandana around his head to keep the hair out of his eyes. He scrawled a number on a notepad by the phone.

“This is my cell in case there’s an emergency.” He tossed the pen to the side, avoiding her gaze, taking long strides toward the door leading to the garage. He needed some space to think, but he wouldn’t hesitate if she needed him.

No matter what she thought.

“You’re leaving?” Her voice sounded so small, he almost changed his mind and turned around. Almost. But his Irish temper got the best of him. And this whole situation – the sheer power and force with which he suddenly found himself caring for her – frankly scared the shit out of him.

“Yeah. Turns out I’ve got better things to do than babysit. Don’t wait up.”

She flinched as if he had struck her. Yeah, that was low, even for him. He probably wouldn’t have said it if his heart hadn’t felt like it had been stomped on by an elephant with a bad attitude. He stormed out without another word. A minute or two later he was spitting gravel behind him as he tore away from the cabin on his Harley like a bat out of hell.

S
tacey positioned herself in front of the big windows, staring off into beautiful scenery she didn’t see. There was only one thing she was looking for, and that was Johnny returning. To the cabin. To her.

She tried writing, but accomplished nothing more than staring at the same page for an hour. Instead of scenes, her mind saw only the hurt look in his beautiful green eyes before they’d gone cold.

She felt terrible about that. When she sat back and thought about it, he had done nothing but take care of her. Never once had he said or done an unkind thing. Almost as if he really cared.

Yet she found it hard to believe he could have serious feelings for her. A weekend fling? Sure. But more than that? Doubtful. They’d only just met, after all, and she was, well, like she was. Her fears were even more confining than her chair. Not exactly girlfriend material for someone like him. Johnny was the embodiment of life and power and passion – everything she had once been.

If only she could have met him then; they might have had a chance.

She’d been so different then. That Stacey wouldn’t have cowered under the sheets because of a thunderstorm. That Stacey never would have questioned why a hot, sexy guy like Johnny was keeping time with her. And that Stacey would never have let him walk out the door like that. She would have jumped on his back, dug her nails into that hard, muscled chest, and given him a damn good reason to stay.

Depression embraced her like a familiar friend. She exhaled heavily and looked down at her uncooperative legs. The accident hadn’t just taken her ability to walk. That she could deal with. It was what it had done to her soul that was the real paralysis.

But despite everything, she couldn’t regret what she’d done. Even if she had known the consequences of going out to help that day, she would have done the same thing, because
that
Stacey had loved life, been connected to the world around her.

Now she sat staring out a window feeling sorry for herself.

Stacey gripped the arms of her chair, fighting back the wave of self-pity trying to swallow her whole. Indulging in such negativity was a slippery slope, one she’d already been down too many times in the last five years.

It had gone on long enough.

She
would
get through this. Everything happened for a reason. Maybe this was exactly the wake-up call she’d needed.

And what exactly was she crying about, anyway? She’d gotten everything she’d wished for. Well, almost everything, she thought, looking down at her legs. She’d wanted to get past her writer’s block, and she had. Wanted to reconnect with Lina. Also done. Wished to be held in the arms of a man and made love to again. Granted, ten-fold.

Unfortunately for her, falling fast and hard for Johnny hadn’t been part of the original wish. That had been entirely her own doing.

Love at first sight was a concept best left in her stories, but being with him had just felt...
right
.

Stacey rolled away from the window, back to the now-stiff, stale pancakes.  Her appetite was non-existent, but she nibbled on one anyway and played the what-if game.

What if she’d kept her insecurities to herself? Chances were, she wouldn’t be sitting in this gorgeous cabin alone, too bummed out to even write. So what if it was a limited time, no-strings kind of deal? Johnny would still be around, and they’d be doing something a hell of a lot more fun than this. Just thinking about that wicked smile, his incredible body, those sexy male grunts he made right before he came...

She sighed. What-ifs were a waste of time and effort. The only thing that mattered was what was.

She
was
in a wheelchair, at least for now. She refused to give up hope. Miraculous advances were being made every day.

She
was
a strong, independent woman. A survivor. And life was filled with ups and downs.

Tossing the half-eaten pancake back on the plate, she began to clear the table. That was when she saw her phone, now fully charged and blinking at her.

There were two text messages from Lina, asking if she was okay. Stacey tapped out a quick reply. “
Doing great. Loving the view.
” There was no point in saying anything more than that.

One from her agent, asking about the book. “
In writer heaven. Great progress. You will be pleased.
”

And six missed calls from her doctor.

Elena Hamilton was the latest in a series of specialists she’d been assigned to, a nice woman in her forties that had a very capable air about her. Stacey tapped the callback icon and took a deep, calming breath.

“Dr. Hamilton’s answering service.” The sing-song voice echoed across the line.

“This is Stacey Mallory. Is Dr. Hamilton available?”

“Is this an emergency?”

How the hell was she supposed to know? She wasn’t the one who called six times. “No, just returning her call.”

“Dr. Hamilton is away at a conference this week. I can leave a message for her to call you,” The musical voice told her.

“Okay,” Stacey agreed, leaving her mobile number with the service. She could wait. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere.

* * *

J
ohnny flicked his booted foot, downshifting as he made the final turn into the town proper. He’d been driving around for a while, but the farther away he got from the cabin, the worse he felt.

Yeah, he
might
have overreacted, taking off like he had, but it was better than telling Stacey the truth. That he’d woken up with crazy thoughts, thoughts that would have probably earned him a good laugh. Grown men didn’t start talking about their fucking
feelings
and shit after two days, no matter how good the sex was. 

He’d thought maybe she’d felt something too, but it wasn’t as if he was going to come out and ask like some chick. His plan had been more subtle: to spend the day with her, doing something other than rocking her world, as kind of a test. The way he figured it, if there
was
something going on there, he would get the same vibes out of the sheets as in.

Then she’d gone and made that crack about babysitting, acting all nonchalant and shit, insinuating... well, he didn’t really know what she’d meant by that. But as he’d driven down the mountain, something started niggling at the back of his mind. Why would something so ridiculous even cross her mind?

By the time he’d checked out the third job site, he thought he might have figured it out.
Lina.
Stacey must have thought Lina sent him up to the cabin. It was the only thing that made sense.

Johnny straddled his bike and whipped out his mobile, intent on getting some answers. It went right to vmail, so he called Kyle. Lina’s husband was even more protective of her than he and Michael had been, so chances were, she was with him. Good man, Kyle.

“Johnny, man. What’s up?”

“Is Lina with you? She’s not answering her damn phone.”

“Yeah, hang on.”

“Johnny?” Lina said into the phone. “Sorry, I forgot my phone at the house. What’s wrong? Is Stacey okay?”

“You haven’t talked to her?”

“No. I called earlier, but her phone went right to voicemail. Aren’t you at the cabin?”

“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Can you meet me at
Daideo’
s in ten?”
Daideo
was what they called their maternal grandfather, Conlan O’Leary. Johnny could kill two birds with one stone by meeting Lina at the diner – satisfy the gnawing ache in his stomach and get some answers.

Lina murmured something to Kyle; Johnny heard Kyle’s low, rumbling response. “Sure. Kyle says he won’t be done for a while yet.”

“Cool.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were seated in the prime corner booth reserved for family. Johnny placed his order for his usual – bacon cheeseburger with the works, fries, and large soft drink. Lina just requested a Sprite.

“Not on a diet, are you?” Johnny teased.

“No. I picked up subs earlier and Kyle and I ate in the shop.”

“Since when did that ever stop you from raiding the bakery case?”

“Since I just don’t feel like it,” she snapped. “Now quit stalling and tell me what’s going on.”

Johnny narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he got the distinct impression Lina was hiding something. He had more important things to worry about, though.

“Why would Stacey think I was babysitting her?”

“Oh, crap,” Lina murmured. That’s when he saw it – the hopeful, matchmaking gleam in Lina’s eye. His sister was a hopeless romantic. No wonder Stacey questioned his presence at the cabin.

“Yeah, oh crap,” Johnny sighed. “Seriously?”

Lina bit her lip. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not my fault you decided to go to the cabin. That was Fate.”

“Fate, my ass. You know I like to crash there sometimes. You couldn’t have mentioned that your friend was staying there?”

“Maybe I did and you just weren’t listening,” she sniffed.

“And maybe you didn’t and was hoping I’d just happen to wind up there.”

Lina said nothing for several moments while the new server, a young woman named Bailey, brought their food and drinks. Lina thanked her, then snagged a French fry from Johnny’s plate and pointed it at him. Oh yeah, she wouldn’t look him in the eye. He knew guilt when he saw it.

“Sounds like it was a good thing you did though,” Lina said.

“Yeah,” he agreed, thinking of Stacey huddled and trembling under the covers. “What’s the deal with that?”

“That’s not my story to tell. If you want the details, you should ask Stacey.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think she’s too keen on talking to me right now.”

Lina pinned him with a fierce glare. “John Daniel Connelly. What did you do?”

“Me? Why do you assume
I
did something?”

“Because I know you and I know Stacey. What did you do?”

In between bites of burger and fries, Johnny gave her the G-rated version. Lina’s eyes were glittering when he paused long enough to swallow and take a drink of soda. They weren’t quite as bright, though, when he wrapped up the story with his abrupt departure earlier that morning.

“She thinks I sent you up there,” she said with a frown. “Why didn’t you set her straight?”

“How the hell was I supposed to know that’s what she thought?” Johnny argued.

“You couldn’t, I guess,” Lina conceded. “But I still don’t understand why you left.”

“Because...,” he started. How was he supposed to explain it to Lina without sounding like a total pussy? She was so into those damn romance novels, believed in all that
croie
stuff. If he said anything about the crazy thoughts that had been running through his mind, Lina would latch onto it with both hands, and he didn’t know if he was ready for that. He was having trouble wrapping his own mind around it.

“Because you really like her,” Lina finished for him slowly, realization dawning, “and it bothers you that she thinks you were just there to perform a service.”

“Jesus, Lina. Perform a service? Really? I’m not a man-whore.”

Lina raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth lifting in the trademark Connelly smirk.

“Okay, maybe I am,” he admitted. “But it wasn’t like that. Not with her.”

Her smirk faded quickly. “Then you’ve got to set her straight.”

“How can I set her straight when I can’t even explain it to myself?”

“It’s simple,” Lina said, waving her hand. “Just go up there. Grovel a little. And if you can’t say it, then show her.” The smirk was back. “You know, Johnny-style.”

“Shut up about that shit, will you?” he said, but he was smiling a little too.

“Seriously. And for the record, I think what she said was kind of a test.”

Johnny shook his head. For as long as he lived, he would never understand the way women thought. “A test?”

“Yeah. She wanted you to deny it. Because I bet she’s feeling the same thing you are, and it’s freaking her out, too.”

S
he must have dozed off at some point, because the sun was setting in a glorious array of colors when the loud ringtone startled her. Rubbing against the stiffness in her neck, she checked the caller id.

“Dr. Hamilton.”

“Stacey?”

“Yes.”

“I am so glad you called,” Elena Hamilton said in her crisp, brisk voice. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days. The results of your latest tests came in.”

Stacey clutched the phone.
The tests.
Yet another reason she had agreed to fly across the country to see Lina. If she wasn’t at home, she wouldn’t have to face the results of the tests.

“Stacey?  Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. I’m on vacation, so I haven’t been checking my messages regularly.”