Page 98 of Suits and Spark Plugs

“Oh, my grandma’s pants, you don’t just drop something like that out there and not follow up. These little teasers will drive me completely bonkers.” While I was ranting, he pulled into the driveway of a bungalow-style home. It distracted me for a moment as I took it in. It was baby blue with a red front door, white trim, and a porch with a swing hanging from the roof. “Well, this house is just darling,” I said as I gestured to it. The words came out hot and angry, which startled me into silence.

He put the truck in park and killed the engine. “Thanks. I like it too.” He turned to face me. “You’re either surprised or annoyed to find out I’ve been interested for a while.”

I slid away from him enough to be able to turn and face him better. “I’m confused. A little nervous, not sure what to think.”

He nodded. “I’m not sure why I said anything, really.”

“Sometimes stuff slips out.” I shrugged. It was true. I said things all the time that were a shocker to me.

“Look, I’m not trying to blow you off or mess with you at all, but my dad’s car is here, so we don’t have long before we need to go inside.” He pointed to a small red pickup parked at the curb that I hadn’t noticed. I nodded. “Let me just say this. I’ve been aware of you, and curious, and interested, but the timing was never right. Either you were putting out the ‘stay clear’ vibe, or I was trying to build my business and get my life settled. Then Blaine happened, and that was fun to watch.” He reached out and took a curl that had drooped down into my eye, his fingers brushing my forehead as he twirled it back up onto my head. “You’re beautiful, you’re funny, you’re determined, independent, never predictable, and yes, I noticed.”

My heartbeat filled my ears as I watched the truth flicker in his eyes. I wasn’t sure how to respond. I’d realized a little while ago that I had been into Connor for years, but how did I become brave enough to follow his lead and tell him that after only three weeks of dating?

Honesty, and a little cowardice, won out. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. I’m just happy that you’re giving me a chance. Come on then, let’s get inside.”

He opened his door and slid out onto the ground, reaching for my hands and pulling me out the driver’s side door too. He kept hold of one hand as he guided me around the door and closed it, but I tugged him to stop him before he could drag me to the front door of his house.

“Connor?” I used our linked hand to pull him back toward me. “I’ll never be as good with words as you are. I’m sorry about that. But what you just said, I, uh, I’d noticed you too. I fought it for a long time, um, and I’m really happy that this is happening.”

I placed my free hand on the back of his neck and drew his face down to mine, wanting to show him without words how I felt. His lips were formed in a smile as his eyes closed, but a cheery voice interrupted, causing us to break apart without making contact.

“Oh, good, you brought Liv.” We looked up at the porch to see Connor’s dad, Ken, standing there, a broad smile on his face. “You two must be starving, the way you were...”

“Thanks, Pop.” Connor waved at him. “We’re coming.”

Ken turned and walked back into the house. Connor shot me a sheepish grin.

I groaned. “Good thing I was hoping to humiliate myself tonight.”

Connor laughed as he released my hand and swung me up into his arms. I squealed loudly and grabbed onto his neck to steady myself. “Welcome to my house, where humiliation is always on the menu.”

I laughed, my mind and heart racing as he carried me across the grass. He put me down in front of the door that Ken had left ajar and gestured for me to enter ahead of him. I did with curious eyes and a smile still lingering on my face. It was a cute, cozy, cottage-like home, and I immediately felt comfortable. Everything was in order, not at all how I would have pictured a bachelor pad, and nothing like how I’d imagined that Connor Hunt would live. Further proof about making assumptions.

Ken came out of an archway that opened into a small kitchen. “Hey, Liv, officially.” He was holding a glass of cola, and the ice cubes tinkled on the side as he raised it to me in greeting. “What’s for dinner, Connor?”

“Steaks and salads. Maybe potatoes if someone wants to cut them up and get them broiling?” Connor replied.

“I can do that,” I said quickly, wanting to be helpful.

“You’re our guest,” Ken replied with shake of his head.

“I can’t let you two just take care of me like that. I’m perfectly capable of pitching in,” I defended.

Ken and Connor exchanged looks. Then, as though they had actually communicated, they shrugged in identical gestures. Ken looked back at me.

“Suit yourself,” he said. “I’ll chop veggies for a salad.”

“Thanks.” My brows furrowed as I followed Connor into the kitchen.

“Why the face?” Connor asked. He reached for a cutting board and handed it to me.

“I’m not helpless, and you don’t have to act weird about letting me join in,” I mumbled as I took the cutting board out of his hands. “Knife, please.”

“We don’t think you’re helpless. We’re just confused about why anyone would want to help when they have the chance to bum around on a chair and watch,” Ken teased.

“If I’d come to your house tonight for dinner, would you have wanted me to pitch in cooking, or would you have wanted to serve me as a way of showing that you like me?” Connor asked as he handed me a knife.

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