Michael (Connelly Cousins #3) Page 3

  While part of her wanted to know more about him, she didn’t dare ask, not unless she was willing to offer the same information in kind.

  She wasn’t.

  She couldn’t.

  Her life was far too complicated for anything more than the brief tête-à-têtes they shared, but she could dream, couldn’t she? If she was ever able to pursue something beyond a bit of harmless flirting, she’d want it to be with someone like him. Michael Connelly was so easy to be around, even if doing so sent her heart into hammering sprints. For a couple minutes each week, she could forget about everything else and just pretend she was normal. A normal girl, living a normal life, talking with an extraordinary man.

  Suddenly feeling anxious, as she always did when she thought about him, she rose from the table and took the remainder of her drink to the bar. It was almost time for her to leave anyway. She needed to head back to her apartment and get changed before her shift. She scanned the dance floor once again, but she’d already resigned herself to taking a cab. Hopefully, the two-car Birch Falls Taxi Service wasn’t too busy and would be able to come right away. She reached down into her pocket for her cell, the familiar anticipation building. Only a few more hours and she’d get to see her dark knight again.

  She’d really begun to look forward to Friday nights. He always sat in the same spot, and she could feel his eyes on her when he didn’t think she was looking. His low, smooth, velvety voice stroked her nerves deliciously when he ordered, and a look about him that promised untold passion and fire if given the chance. There was something dark and mysterious about him, something excitingly naughty that drew her to him like a magnet. Yet he was always very polite, and had done nothing to incite the hot and steamy dreams she was having about him nearly every night.

  There was something inherently powerful about him, too. Something dark and fierce and dangerous. Only a few weeks ago, a group of guys came in after what was obviously a bar tour, and were quite free with the lewd and suggestive remarks. One was even bold enough to grab her ass. Mr. O’Leary, the grandfatherly owner who had kind of taken her under his wing, kicked them out immediately. Shortly after that, she noticed Michael had disappeared as well. In town a few days later, she saw the man who had grabbed her. His right arm was in a cast extending from his shoulder to his fingertips.

  Though she knew it was just a coincidence and the two events couldn’t possibly be related, she couldn’t help fantasizing that her dark stranger had somehow appointed himself her protector. Her secret knight in shining armor. The thought made her smile.

  “Now, what would make a woman smile like that, I wonder?” a male voice speculated from close by, breaking her from her reverie. “My money’s on something naughty.”

  She looked up and her smile faded instantly. It was the same guy who had been turning up too often for it to be by chance. At first, she’d told herself it was simply coincidence; after all, Birch Falls was a small town, and it was a common occurrence to see familiar faces at the diner, the grocery store, the book store, and the post office.

  But no other familiar face gave her the same icy, leaden ball of fear in the pit of her stomach that this guy’s did.

  Which only served to remind her why she’d come to Birch Falls in the first place.

  “Excuse me,” she said politely, and tried to step around him. He moved a step to the left to block her, then one to the right when she tried again.

  “Where are you going, sugar? Not leaving so soon?” he asked, his eyes a little too bright, a little too excited. He looked over in the direction from which she’d come, searching for anyone who might be watching. Unfortunately, no one was looking their way.

  Bailey glanced longingly toward the main door, the one she’d have to navigate the dance mob to get to.

  “You’re all alone tonight, aren’t you?” His voice was quieter as his hand closed around her upper arm.

  “No, I’m not,” she responded, wrenching her arm away. “I came with some friends.”

  “I think they ditched you, sweetheart. You can hang with me.” His voice was too smug, too knowing. How long had he been here? Had he been watching her? Another chill ran down her spine. Her first mistake was coming out in the first place. Her second was allowing herself to be distracted.

  She offered a small smile. “Sorry. Not interested,” she tried.

  He smiled, though it didn’t quite meet his eyes. Her hopes for a quick and easy departure were dashed, though it had been worth a shot. She should’ve known better; she wasn’t exactly the poster child for lucky breaks.

  Outwardly, she aimed for annoyed aloofness. Inwardly, her mind was feverishly working out the best avenue of escape. Chances were, this guy was just a garden-variety creeper whose ego overshadowed his common sense, but taking chances wasn’t something she did unless she had no other option.

  Getting to the main door was possible, but progress across the crowded dance floor would be slow and ditching him would be difficult. And once she got outside, then what? With no car, no ride, and no one paying attention, she’d be a sitting duck, far too vulnerable.

  No, her best bet was a distraction and a quick exit. Two fire emergency doors flanked the sides of the public bar room, but opening those would sound the alarm and bring the authorities, which was unacceptable. The only other option was the door at the far end of the bar, the one with a sign that read, “Private – Members Only”.

  As a plan began to form in her mind, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, decision made. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m supposed to meet someone here.”

  He laughed. “I don’t believe you,” he crooned, leaning in closer.

  “I really don’t care what you believe,” she said, fighting against the rising panic. She could do this. Tommy’s was a public place, and filled with decent, law-abiding citizens, people she’d seen in town and at the diner. She’d been in far worse situations and had come out all right.

  She just needed to calm the hell down and focus.

  Bailey turned on her foot quickly, going in the only direction she could. Straight to the back room and the door marked Private.

  With a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside, only to find herself in the midst of a room full of big, muscular types. Playing pool. Shooting darts. And a brightly glowing EXIT sign on the far end that would be her salvation.

  Maybe. If she could navigate the sea of mass and muscle between here and there.

  The room grew silent as one by one, heads turned in her direction. She was just about to mutter an apology and make a break for it when she spotted a pair of very familiar, glowing green eyes fixed right on her.

  Chapter Two

  Michael felt the telltale prickle at the back of his neck (and an accompanying ache in his groin) a few seconds before the atmosphere in the back room at Tommy’s changed dramatically. Tension sizzled to life, the level of testosterone in the air shot into dangerously high levels. The good-natured jibes quieted along with the rest of the conversations as all eyes turned to the door that led to the public area.

  He didn’t have to look; he knew who it was. He had some kind of extra sense that alerted him whenever she was near. He didn’t have to see her beautiful face or sinfully lush curves, smell her unique sweet scent, or hear her low, purring voice to know it was her. His dick knew. It was instantly hard and aching, straining toward her like a compass needle pointing north. He straightened, slowly, and like everyone else, turned his attention to the doorway.

  His heart stuttered and his breath caught. She looked beautiful. Her dark mahogany hair was loose, tumbling in waves almost to her hips, catching the lights as if she’d commanded them to wrap around her. She wore a silky blouse tucked into a pair of black stretch jeans that hugged her curves like a lover. The turquoise blouse highlighted those huge blue-green eyes, outlined tonight with something dark and smoky. Three-inch spike-heeled, glossy black sandals with a web of fine silver chains crossed over her high arche
s gave just the briefest impression of bondage and sent the ache within him into an all-out burn.

  He groaned inwardly. What the fuck was she doing here?

  She stopped just inside the door with a brief “deer caught in the headlights” look that made her eyes all that much wider and turned every man in the room into an instant hunter. Michael fought against the tightness in his chest and the roaring in his head that was urging him to run across the room, toss her over his shoulder, and take her back to his cave until the only name capable of passing her lips was his.

  Even from across the room there was no mistaking her fear. Good, thought Michael. She should be afraid. Women did not venture into this part of Tommy’s unless they were serving – or hoping to serve, as it were. Michael was not the only one to notice that she wasn’t carrying a tray of drinks. Damn it. He did not want to have to kill these men. He’d grown up with most of them.

  Her eyes scanned the crowd, and damn if they didn’t get even bigger. The increasingly fast rise and fall of her chest suggested imminent panic. A tender little lamb among some very hungry wolves. Michael braced himself. This was going to get very ugly, very fast if he didn’t do something soon.

  Look at me, sweetheart, he commanded silently. Look at me, only at me.

  Then she spotted him. Thank God. Those huge blue-green eyes locked onto his and everything changed. In the span of a few seconds, her spine straightened and the look of alarm changed to one of determination.

  * * *

  Bailey felt a rush of heat roll over her. It was him! Michael Connelly, looking good enough to eat in a black button down shirt and a pair of those well-worn blue jeans, his emerald eyes pinned directly on her.

  Her dark knight.

  There he stood, gloriously fierce and ready for battle, lance in hand. Okay, so maybe it was a pool cue, but she blamed the adrenaline racing through her system for coming up with that analogy.

  No time for her Camelot fantasies now, though. She took a mental snapshot to recall later, much later. She had a creep on her heels, and first and foremost, she had to get away from him before she entertained any more distracting thoughts.

  Her eyes flicked again to the exit then back to Michael, who stood between her and escape.

  “Bailey!”

  Her pursuer entered the room behind her, his face a mask of thorough irritation. The attention of the occupants shifted from Bailey to the man in the doorway, and the temperature in the room grew noticeably cooler. Two large men, one with Adonis-like golden hair and one who looked very similar to her knight, stood and flanked Michael on either side.

  Apparently these guys took their members-only privileges seriously.

  The guy following her must have realized it, too. He reached out and grabbed at her arm. “This has gone far enough,” he hissed. “Come on, sweetheart, we both know you’re not meeting anyone here.”

  Bailey barely avoided his grip with a quick twist of her shoulders. Her hopes of slipping through without incident were practically nil, not with being the center of attention as they were. She looked again at Michael, at the tense set of his shoulders and the intensity of his eyes.

  What she was about to do was probably going to end any future hope of seeing her knight again, but she could see no other choice.

  With purposeful steps, she made a beeline for Michael, pasting what she hoped was a cheerful smile on her face and praying that her voice didn’t crack.

  “Sorry I’m so late. I thought we were meeting out by the bar.”

  She reached both arms up around his neck – a full body stretch for her – and attempted to pull him down to her. For a horrible moment he did not move, and she was afraid she had wildly overestimated her probability of success, but then she felt his arms close around her and his mouth captured hers.

  Marble, that’s what he felt like. Warm, hard, malleable marble. Sizzling bolts of energy radiated out from each point of contact, sending a rush of heat straight to her core. Bailey might have gasped; it would explain how Michael’s tongue managed to glide along her lower lip and then tease hers. Strong, solid arms tightened around her, pulling her closer in an unspoken command to press more of her body against his.

  God only knew how long the kiss actually lasted. Two seconds. Two minutes. A month. The moment Michael’s lips touched hers, the rest of the world ceased to exist. There was only him, holding her, kissing her as if he really meant it.

  She needed the strength of those arms, because every bone in her body suddenly went from solid to liquid, melting under the power of that kiss.

  Apparently those fantasies she’d been having for the past eight weeks had been spot on.

  When Michael finally pulled away, there was fire in his eyes. He relaxed his arms, but continued to hold her as his gaze lifted toward the door. With her body still pleasantly buzzing, she turned and saw her pursuer glaring at her, his face contorted in anger. The entire room had gone silent, waiting to see what would happen next.

  Bailey was kind of wondering that herself.

  * * *

  “Maybe you didn’t see the sign. This is a private room. Members Only.” Michael spoke the words quietly, but that only added to the power behind them. He was not a man who uttered idle threats, and even a loser like the guy chasing after Bailey should be able to figure that out quick enough. And anyone who encountered the wrath of Michael Connelly would also fall into ill favor with the other patrons, as other men began to rise from their seats or set their cue sticks to the side.

  Whether the outsider had had too much to drink or an innate death wish, he didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. He’d ventured where he was not welcome, and thought to push his attentions on a woman who obviously didn’t want them. And not just any woman. Bailey.

  After a brief hesitation, the guy thrust his chin out defiantly and took another step into the room. “She’s with me.”

  It was the wrong thing to say.

  Michael’s eyes narrowed as Bailey clutched him harder. She was afraid of this guy; that much was clear. And that made Michael very, very angry. Without even realizing he was doing so, he pulled her closer to him and ran his hand soothingly against her back. Those protective instincts he’d been keeping tethered ripped free with the sudden, fierce intensity of a bolt of lightning.

  And then, he knew. Bailey Keehan was his croie. His heart. The one.

  That realization explained a lot. It also changed everything.

  Looking over her head, his eyes found the worthless piece of shit that had driven Bailey into his arms. Medium build, medium height. Unremarkable brown hair, brown eyes. The kind of guy who could blend into the woodwork, easily overlooked, except for the gleam in his eye. Except now he’d gone and drawn attention to himself, and not the good kind.

  Michael’s mouth curved up in a smile that could have frozen Niagara Falls. “Wrong. She is with me. And you should have listened the first time.”

  The man’s face reddened, but as he looked around at the unfriendly faces, he had to know he was in hostile territory.

  “This isn’t over,” he hissed.

  His self-preservation instinct must have kicked in, too, because he turned and hauled ass into the main area of the club. On a hunch, Michael gave a slight nod to a couple of the guys closest to the door and they followed after him.

  Michael returned his attention to the woman in his arms. The incredibly soft, fragrant woman who was warming him from the inside out. Her eyes were glazed, a bit unfocused; her lips still slightly parted, reddened, wet and swollen from his kiss. The side of his mouth curved into a little smile. He’d imagined her like this a hundred times, though the reality was even better than expected.

  She wasn’t in her cute little pink and white uniform. Her outfit was quite tame by Tommy’s standards, but it set him on fire all the same. The way her blouse opened just enough to give the merest suggestion of what lay beneath, especially now when her breasts were pressed against him. The way the collar exposed the delicate curve
of her neck, a screaming invitation for him to put his lips there. He knew that the silk beneath his fingers wouldn’t compare to the silkiness of her skin; that her ass would be just as firm and tight outside of those jeans as in them. And her hair. Her hair spilled around her like shimmering satin in loose wavy curls. He longed to get himself tangled in that hair.

  All too soon she seemed to gather her senses and pull away. With an inexplicable feeling of loss, Michael allowed her to do so, remaining close enough to steady her if needed.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “You may not realize it, but you have just rescued a damsel in distress.”

  A slow grin spread across his face. Oh yeah, he was up for playing hero. For her, he’d be goddamn Superman.

  “Who was that guy?” The question came out casually enough, revealing none of the rage that boiled behind it.

  * * *

  Bailey fingered the smooth cotton of his shirt. Lies had a way of getting complicated real fast, so she tried to stick with the truth whenever possible.

  “I don’t know his name,” she said softly.

  Michael’s fingers flexed against her waist. “Why did he say you were with him?”

  “I don’t know that either. He tried picking me up in the bar, but I said no.”

  “Is this the first time?”

  “That he’s approached me directly, yes.”

  His eyes narrowed, filling in the blanks for himself. “What about indirectly? Has he been stalking you?”

  She felt the tension increase around Michael like an electrical field. His voice was low, little more than a growl, sending shivers down her spine.

  She shrugged, neither a confirmation nor a denial, wrapping her arms around herself. She had no proof, only possibilities.

  “Hey,” she said, changing the subject. She shifted her weight slightly. Back toward him. “Coffee and rolls on me tonight, if you happen to make it in, that is.”