Anything for You (Blue Heron #5)(56)

“Okay, you’re angry. I accept that.”

“How generous of you.”

He sighed. “But I have to say, I think you’re exaggerating how bad things were,” he said, and that’s when Jessica completely surprised herself and threw her beer in his face.

* * *

CONNOR WAS IN a particular circle of hell known as the date who never stopped to draw breath.

Marcy.

“So there we were, and not to toot my own horn—” as if she’d been doing anything else since they sat down “—no one wants to be the one responsible for an Oscar winner’s wedding disaster, am I right? So I say, in Italian, did I mention I’m fluent? I say, ‘You there! Put on this striped shirt and row! I don’t care if you can’t swim! Ah ha! Ah ha! Ah ha ha ha!”

That was her laugh. The first time she’d let it rip, Connor thought she was coughing up a hairball. Also, she yelled all her sentences. People were looking at them, but Marcy seemed unaware.

They were in the little bar at Hugo’s, because he hadn’t wanted to go to O’Rourke’s, since Colleen would be there. Also, it was Wednesday, when the volunteer EMTs and firefighters had their meeting there, which consisted of pool-playing and dirty jokes.

And Jess was on the fire department. He didn’t want her to see him with another woman. It just felt wrong.

Marcy sounded like a flock of geese, honking incessantly. No, geese sounded too nice. That comparison wasn’t fair to geese. Chickens. She sounded like a thousand chickens. A stadium of chickens.

Fortunately, his participation in the conversation wasn’t required. Marcy told stories. Namedropped a lot, not that Connor knew who any of these people were, but he’d already learned to simply nod and pretend he did, because otherwise, she’d tell him in excruciating detail.

His phone buzzed, and though he hated when people checked their phones while out with real live humans, he suddenly understood the urge.

Whenever he’d been with Jess, he’d turned off his phone completely.

The phone buzzed again, urging him to sneak a peek. It was Colleen.

Stop being so negative. There must be something you like about her. Try being positive for once in your life.

He glanced around Hugo’s tiny bar area to see if his sister was there. Nope. The magical twinsy bond struck again.

He looked at Marcy, who was laughing at her own joke. Positive, positive. Well, she was cute, he’d give her that. Her hair was black and shiny, and though her eyes were small behind her glasses, they were a nice blue color. Average rack. A little thick around the middle, which he only noticed because she kept sucking in her stomach like she was about to blow out the candles on a centenarian’s birthday cake.

In the twenty minutes Connor had been on this date, Marcy had probably said more than Jessica had said in ten years.

But Jess could say one word, and it would mean everything. Yes, for example. Yes would’ve meant everything.

“So I’m standing there, and this guy says ‘I love your outfit,’ and I’m like, ‘Hello? This shirt is ten years old! You have pretty lousy taste, pal.’ And then I realize it’s Michael Kors! I kid you not! Ah ha! Ah ha! Ah ha ha ha!”

This date would never end.

Then all of a sudden, Tom Barlow came through the bar, half dragging Keith Dunn by his collar, and escorted him none too gently out the door.

There was only one reason Jess’s father would be here.

“Excuse me a second,” Connor said. Without waiting for Marcy to answer, he went into the main section of the restaurant and saw Jessica at the corner table, surrounded by her friends—Honor and Pru and Hugo. The tablecloth in front of her was sopping wet.

“Jess?” He knelt down in front of her and took her hand. If anyone didn’t realize he was in love with her, they were blind or stupid. Her hand was icy, and he rubbed it between his. “You okay?”

Her eyes were dry. No. Jessica Dunn never cried, but that copper wire connection between them flared with heat.

“I’m fine,” she lied. She squeezed his hand and pulled it free. “Just lost my temper a little bit.”

“As you should have,” Pru said. “I would’ve broken the damn glass over his head.”

“Me, too,” Honor said.

“Let me take you home,” he said, standing up and offering his hand.

“Good idea,” Pru said. “Jess, let him drive you home. It’s been an upsetting night.”

“I’m really fine. But thank you.” Her eyes met his, and the wire lit up. She wasn’t fine. She needed him, damn it. But she didn’t take his hand. He let it drop.

“What have we here?” Shit, it was Marcy, and she cozied right up to him. “Wow, it’s my boss! Hey, Honor! Hi, Prudence! Food must be great here! Connor and I were just having dinner, and then I was like, whoa, they’re actually kicking someone out! Kind of exciting! Does that sort of thing happen a lot around here? But everything seems to be under control now. Can Connor and I do anything, Jessie?”

Jessica looked up at her. “I go by Jessica or Jess,” she said, and her voice shook the tiniest bit. “Please don’t call me Jessie.”

“I’d be more than happy to take you home,” Connor said. The urge to take her home, to his home, to take care of her, made him want to just toss her over his shoulder and carry her out.