Taking Connor(31)

When I finally emerge, Connor and the kids are cleaning up lunch, minus McKenzie. She still refuses to leave the guest room. Grayson is sitting in his seat repeating “baby dinosaur” over and over again. My heart breaks a little. Something is not right, and I know it’s the last thing Wendy and Jeff will want to hear. But I have to say something. Grayson needs help, and the sooner they get it for him, the better.

“Thanks for handling lunch.” Grabbing the sponge from the back of the sink I start wiping the table down. It doesn’t look like it needs a wipe down, but I’m desperate for a reason to avoid eye contact with him.

“I just wiped it off Demi,” J.J. volunteers.

“Oh, well you did a great job,” I say. “Thought I saw a little spot. Guess my vision is getting bad in my old age.”

“I want to see Mr. Jenson. He said he’d give me candy,” Mary-Anne pipes up.

“Maybe later,” I tell her as I run a hand over her blonde hair. “But don’t go over there without me, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Can we go outside and play?” Mary-Anne begs. “I brought sidewalk chalk to draw on your driveway Demi.”

“If Mark will go with you and keep an eye on the three of you, you can go out. And I want to see my entire driveway covered in art. If you do a good job, I’ll have a treat for you.”

“Yay!” The two barrel off to find Mark, arguing who will draw the most or best pictures, and Grayson, noting the commotion, climbs down off his chair and runs after them.

“How many hours until bedtime?” Connor chuckles as he does his signature head rub.

“Approximately nine,” I jest. “You’re saving my life this weekend, ya know? Thank you for all the help. I’m afraid I was incredibly ambitious to think I could handle them by myself.”

“It’s been pretty fun, minus the sibling drama. They’re good kids.”

“Yeah, they are. I love them to pieces. They might be the closest thing I’ll ever have to children.”

Connor cocks his head slightly and looks at me. “Why do you say that?”

The comment was off-handed. I hadn’t meant it to sound like I was throwing myself a pity party. “Who knows if and when I’ll remarry? Maybe children aren’t in the cards for me.”

His mouth quirks up in a smirk, a smirk conveying disbelief. “No way. A woman like you Demi . . . you need babies. Lots of them.”

He always says the kindest things to me. And every time he does I find myself eager to hear another compliment or praise; somehow his opinion of me has come to matter much more than it should.

I laugh a little. “I don’t know about lots of them. I think this weekend has proven an effective method of mental birth control. But one,” I smile faintly at the thought, “one would be nice. But maybe it’s not meant to be, eh? What about you? You want kids?”

He crosses his arms and inhales deeply as he looks off in thought. Then his dark gaze meets mine again. “I always wanted kids. I worry, like you, maybe it’s too late. I mean, I’m thirty-six.”

“Hey, watch it now,” I warn. “Thirty-six isn’t old,” I point out. “You’re only four years older than me.”

“No,” he chuckles. “It’s not that old. But these things take time.”

“That they do,” I agree.

“Well, I haven’t completely let go of the idea. I guess the hardest part for me will be convincing a woman to love a man like me enough to have my child.”

This time, I cock my head and look at him. I know what he means; he’s a convicted felon. But I wish for one second he could see what I see; the kind heart and easy attitude underneath the hard exterior. “Any woman would be lucky to have your child Connor. Never doubt that.” The words left my mouth before I thought of how . . . intense they sounded. Connor’s brows rise at my heartfelt statement and the reality hits me of what I said. Did I just, in some backward way, say I’d be lucky to have his kid? No. No, I didn’t. Did I? Shit. I think I did. Was that what I was thinking?

Before either of us can say another word, J.J. and Grayson come flying back into the kitchen with Mark carrying a giggling Mary-Anne by her ankles.

“Do I have to take them outside?” Mark grumbles. “I was sleeping until Grayson jumped on me and kneed me in the nuts.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” I wager. “How about a nice grilled steak for dinner tonight.”

Mark’s blue gaze jerks to mine. Teenage boys; sex and food. That’s all they think about.

“Macaroni and cheese . . . the homemade shit, I mean stuff?” he corrects himself when I cut him a warning eye.

“Okay, that’s fair,” I agree.

“Let’s go guys.” Mark encourages as he heads toward the back door.

As soon as they’re out the door, Connor adds, “I would’ve taken them outside for steak.”

“Good to know,” I laugh. “Now I know how to get you to be my servant.”

Connor gives an easy smile. “All you have to do is ask.” Then he walks out.



By the grace of the almighty, we survive the weekend. Wendy and Jeff don’t stay long when they return to pick up their children, and although I love her dearly, I’m grateful. I have no idea how they survive on a daily basis. Before they leave, I let Wendy know we need to talk. I want to know why McKenzie believes she knows so much about Connor. I also want to know why she hates my house so much. But it’s a conversation that has to wait. As the Tuffman’s speed away, Lexi pulls in the driveway where Connor and I are standing. I roll my eyes as she climbs out of her car, her hair disheveled and sunglasses covering what I know are ‘leftover from the night before’ makeup smeared eyes.