Johnny (Connelly Cousins #2) (4 page)

She went up on her toes and cupped his face with her long-nailed hands and crushed those pouty lips against his.

The woman had a damn fine ass, and that little flicking thing she did with her tongue promised a good time. He briefly reconsidered, but then her triumphant smirk completely turned him off.  He gave her a gentle nudge instead and returned his focus to the game.

Johnny lined up his shot. He sank the two, then the six off a sweet bank into the corner pocket, slightly annoyed with himself. Since when had bold, confident women been a turn-off?

They weren’t. He loved women who knew what they wanted, women who grabbed life by the balls (especially when his balls were involved). So what the hell was his problem?

The cue ball just kissed the five, not enough to send it into the side pocket. He cursed.

“Tough break,” his older brother commented with a predatory grin. Johnny groaned; this was going to be the third game in a row Michael kicked his ass. As if the cocky bastard needed another reason to gloat. Johnny watched sullenly as Michael cleared the table, one ball at a time. Again.

“Had enough, pup?” Michael asked, flagging down the young waitress in the too-tight
Tommy’
s T-shirt.

“Yeah.”

“Want to shoot a few darts?”

“Nah. I think I’m done for the night.”

Michael looked pointedly at the beer in Johnny’s hand. The same beer he’d been nursing all night. “What crawled up your ass?”

Johnny scowled. He wished he knew. “Off night, I guess.”

Michael grunted. His green eyes discreetly scanned the room, just as they had a dozen times in as many minutes. 

“What are you looking for?”

“Someone to adjust your attitude, little brother.” His visual scan stopped near the door and the latest arrival. “Bingo.”

Johnny followed his gaze to the flaming pixie cut. Yeah, his brother knew his weakness. She was cute, but not what he needed. He liked
real
redheads, the ones with fire in their souls, not the ones that came out of a bottle.

And women who had enough hair for him to wrap around his fist. “Pass.”

“Yeah, you’re right. What about that one?” Michael inclined his head toward another, this one a strawberry blonde with the curves of an old-fashioned pin-up girl. She turned and gave them a big, bleached-white smile. Johnny waited for the familiar tingle, some measure of interest from his groin, and came up empty.

“Nah.”

“You’re starting to worry me.”

He was starting to get a little worried himself.

When the strawberry blonde started making her way over to them, Johnny made up his mind. “I’m just going to head out,” he told Michael, grabbing his jacket.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Just need some space.” It was the one thing guaranteed to get his brother off his back, at least for now. As an Army Ranger (now inactive), Michael understood the need for personal space better than most.

“I hear you. You mind if I...?” Michael glanced toward the woman.

“Knock yourself out.”

Johnny grabbed his jacket and slipped out the private back entrance to where his Harley sat, waiting. The night had been a total bust; he was feeling agitated and more than a little revved up. All night long he’d refused one proposition after another, and it was pissing him off royally, because he had no idea
why
, except that it didn’t feel right. Since when did spending a few hot and heavy hours with a pretty, willing, young woman ever
not
feel right? 

It was barely midnight and here he was, riding his cycle to nowhere in particular, alone. Being on his bike gave him some measure of peace, at least. The wind on his face, the rumble of his customized Harley beneath him, with nothing but the open road and the full moon as companions. The moon lit a silvery blue fire in his veins, fueled by the cool, crisp air across his overheated flesh. As soon as he passed the town limits, he opened up the throttle, riding the adrenaline rush like a wave junkie during an approaching storm.

Johnny found himself unconsciously heading toward the nearby mountain. The narrow, serpentine roads were exactly what he needed. Tight switchbacks, steep grades, and nothing but a few strips of thin, corrugated, galvanized steel to keep him from an unintentional freefall over the cliff-like edge.

It took a while, but eventually the adrenaline burned away, leaving him feeling drained. He pulled off at an overlook near the peak and scanned the valley below. The twinkling lights of Birch Falls winked back at him; the river shimmered like a dark, pearlescent ribbon in the moonlight.

Johnny took a deep breath, drawing in the chill, clean air. He missed being up here, surrounded by nothing but forests and sky. At one time, he’d spent every summer at the nearby lake with his family. The memories made him smile. He and Michael would leave the cabin at dawn and hike all over this mountain. They’d build elaborate forts, then spend the day playing Army or being spies. Lina would always try to tag along, and they’d try to sneak out without her.

He could still picture her standing there, eyes wide, clutching her stuffed Snoopy, begging to go with them while their mother tried in vain to talk her into doing something else. Neither he nor Michael had ever been good at denying her when she looked at them like that, and more often than not, they’d given in and taken her with them.

Now look at them. Their parents were gone. Lina was married to a biker and one of his best friends. And Michael, well, Michael had taken the whole Army thing to heart and become a goddamned Ranger.

And him? He’d taken over the construction company their father had started. Business was great. Better than great, actually. Not only was it the only place within hundreds of miles that specialized in eco-friendly new construction, his initial forays into the renovation business were looking extremely promising as well. 

On paper, he was in a good place. He loved Birch Falls, was surrounded by his family and awesome friends, he had a successful, thriving business, and plenty of female companionship whenever he wanted it.

So why the hell did he feel like something was missing?

He stared out over the valley, watching the lights blink out one by one as people called it a night down below. The question hung in the air, dancing solo. Clearly, the answer wasn’t going to show up anytime soon.

Johnny toed the bike back away from the edge, and started it up. Weariness rippled through him. It had been a hell of a long day. A recent string of bad weather had set them back on their timeline, and he and his guys had been busting their asses to make up some time. As much as he loved the instant gratification he got from construction, sixteen hour days of taxing physical labor took their toll after a while.

Suddenly an hour’s drive down the mountain didn’t seem that appealing. Maybe he’d crash at the cabin instead. Lina had the place all cleaned up and nice, and it wasn’t like he had anything to go home to, anyway. The house would be empty until Michael decided to drag his ass home.
If
he even came home. Michael came and went as he pleased. Johnny wasn’t sure where Michael spent many of his nights. He didn’t ask, and Michael didn’t volunteer the information.

No longer feeling the need for speed, Johnny kept it within relatively normal limits this time. That sharp edge of adrenalized clarity had dulled significantly, and wrecking his bike (or himself) wasn’t on the agenda. The cabin was only a couple of minutes away, so it wasn’t a big deal.

Murmuring a near-silent thanks at the absence of Lina’s Jag or Kyle’s Harley, Johnny parked his bike in the garage. He loved his sister, and Kyle was cool, but Lina would immediately know something was up and start worrying like a mother hen. And even if she didn’t, Johnny had no desire to be around the newlyweds tonight, not when he was feeling so unsettled.

He let himself inside, surprised to find a light on over the sink and soft music playing. Lina must have left it on; sometimes she did that on the weekends to make it appear as if the place was occupied, especially in the peak summer season. It discouraged potential weekend squatters, not that there were many of those.

Johnny headed straight for the kitchen where he popped open a fresh beer. Now that he was in for the night, he didn’t have to worry if he ended up getting totally, unabashedly shit-faced. He was long overdue.

His eyes brightened at the fully-stocked fridge. He hadn’t even realized he was hungry, but seeing all of his favorite deli meats reminded him that he hadn’t had anything since that burger after work. And she’d even sliced up tomato and lettuce!

Johnny pulled out all of the ingredients for a super-sized Dagwood sandwich and laid them out on the counter. Grabbing the universal remote, he flicked off the soft rock station. He’d never been a fan of the stuff to begin with, and in his current funk, the sweetly romantic lyrics were pissing him off. He switched to some teeth-rattling hard rock. Yeah, that was more like it.

Head bobbing along with the bass, Johnny finished one beer and started another while he munched on his sandwich and looked around. Lina had done a nice job cleaning up the place. For a couple of years after their parents’ untimely deaths, it had sat, unused. Michael was off playing Army for real and Lina had been away. Johnny hadn’t been able to bring himself up here alone.

Too many memories. They’d been pretty young when their father built this place, but Johnny clearly remembered being out there with Michael and his dad, “helping” with kid-sized tools from his junior tool belt. He smiled at that. The tool belt had been a Christmas gift. Even then, he had loved working with his hands.

It still hurt to think that he’d never work beside his father again, but at least he was able to remember some happy times now, too.

Johnny shook his head and put his plate in the sink. He didn’t need nostalgia piled onto his heap of angst, not tonight. Maybe it had been a mistake coming up here alone, with nothing to counter his sudden wave of sentimentality. Then again, he sure as hell didn’t want anyone else to witness it.

What he really needed was a few more beers, a good long soak in the hot tub, and ten or twelve hours of uninterrupted, dreamless sleep. Johnny grabbed the rest of the six pack, turned off the lights, and headed toward the back.

T
he music changed.

Stacey’s eyes popped open. She’d been dozing on and off to the soft rock station, her body relaxed, her mind subconsciously turning the lyrics of each song into a story. At some point, the easy love ballads had switched to pounding bass and screaming guitars.

Why
had the music changed? And when?

Now alert, Stacey strained her ears to hear over the music. It was faint, but it definitely sounded as if someone was moving around out there. Her heart began to pound, brutally aware that she was buck naked and immersed in a hot tub – not exactly the best position to be in for receiving unexpected company.

Unexpected
was the operative word. Her imagination began to run wild as she lifted herself to the edge of the tub. What if it wasn’t company? What if someone had broken in?

Stacey turned off the jets and listened intently. The clink of a bottle, the clank of a dish. Someone was in the kitchen, but not trashing the place. Her worries eased down just a notch. It was probably just Lina coming to check on her, she thought, reaching for the towel hanging from the arm of her wheelchair. Besides, an intruder would never have made it past the state of the art security system Lina had shown her...

Oh, crap
. She
had
remembered to activate that after Lina and Kyle had left, hadn’t she? She’d thought about it, but she couldn’t remember actually doing so. She’d been so eager to start working on the opening scene of her book and had been distracted.

The fluffy white towel wasn’t cooperating. She tugged again; it was stuck. With her panic rising at the fear of being caught
au naturel
, Stacey gave it a desperate, hard pull. The towel came loose, but the brake lever on her chair disengaged in the process. Stacey watched in horror as her chair began to roll away. She lunged for it, but it was too late. Her wet bottom slid along the smooth edge of the tub and she plopped right back into the water, watching helplessly as her wheelchair came to a stop behind one of the potted palms.

Now what the hell was she supposed to do?

Think, Mallory, think
. The way she saw it, she had two options. One, lift her big ass out of the tub and skooch her way across the decorative hardwood to the chair and one of the terry robes, hoping no one came looking for her while she did. Or two, wait it out like a naked, sitting duck and hope it was Lina who eventually walked through that door.

Right.

Stacey kept her eyes on the door and began to ease out of the tub. She’d no sooner swung one leg onto the decking when the door handle began to turn. There was no way she was going to make it.

She flicked the jets back on and the tub lights off, then slid back into the water up to her neckline. Between the lack of light and the turbulent water, she might be able to hide her regretful decision to bathe naked. As an extra precaution, Stacey pulled the towel under the water and covered her girly bits the best she could.

And then promptly forgot how to breathe, because it wasn’t Lina who entered.

It was a huge freaking Viking god.

He filled the doorframe. Golden blond hair glinted in the low lighting above his broad, broad shoulders. Full male lips graced a strong, hard-angled face. Bronzed, muscled arms extended from the snug, short-sleeved T straining across a well-defined chest.

Stacey sank lower until the water touched her chin. With the familiar blonde hair and stunning green eyes she could make out even from where she was, he had to be one of Lina’s brothers. Stacey was going to have a stern word or two for her friend next time she saw her. Over the course of their friendship, she’d heard a lot about Johnny and Michael, but never, in all that time, had Lina ever mentioned this insane level of masculine perfection, and the photos she’d proudly shown had been of a much younger boy who hadn’t yet reached this level of supreme manliness. That had to break some unwritten girlfriend rule somewhere.