NICE GIRL TO LOVE (THE COMPLETE THREE-BOOK COLLECTION)(17)

CHAPTER FOUR


STRUCK DUMB, and apparently deaf as well, Abby opened and closed her mouth once before shaking her head. Hard. “What?” She must have heard him wrong. Must have.

“You heard me.”

Did she?

Since Connor looked both pleased with himself and just a tiny bit like he might be ready to hurl, she assumed she had.

“I can’t stay with you for two weeks.”

“Why not?”

“Connor, be reasonable.”

“I’m being very reasonable. Were you going home to see your family or just to work on your dissertation?”

“The latter mostly,” she confessed.

“Then do that at my house. I’m not there three-quarters of the time, anyway. And you can head to the library in the afternoons if you’re worried about Skylar bothering you when she comes over afterschool…though it sounds like she and Brian have a pretty strict pact to leave you alone the next few weeks.” He looked at her strangely. “You didn’t tell them you were leaving did you?”

“I was working up to it. We have a fairly unhealthy codependent relationship.”

He smiled. “So it seems. Even more reason to remain close by. C’mon, Abby, say yes.”

“I really shouldn’t.”

“You’ll have your run of the house. I’ll stick to all aforementioned ice cream parameters. And you won’t have to run around searching for that one mechanic in Arizona that might still be able to find parts for your car when you inevitably have to tow it off the freeway.”

The man did make a good, if slightly brutal point.

“You’ll have your own guestroom way on the other end of my—what is it you and Skylar call my house again?”

“The mini McMansion.”

He chuckled. “Right. Well, you’ll have your very own McSuite.”

“And my own in-house McStud?”

“I do want to ensure you a quality stay,” he deadpanned right back.

“Connor, this is crazy. This goes against everything you base your one rule on to begin with.”

“Tell me the truth,” he pressed, “if you could have a guarantee that it wouldn’t be weird, would you stay? Would it help you with your research, and schedule, and sanity if you could just stay in town instead of driving all the way to California?”

She sighed, sounding exhausted even to her own ears. “Yes.”

His face changed a little then, gentled, became serious. “Pretend we could rewind the clock back a half hour. You’ve been my brother’s best friend for over a decade, basically a second mother to my niece, and the only one outside of family who helped my sister-in-law through her toughest times. There’s not a single person on my speed dial more deserving of an invite to stay in my home than you. Let me do this. Let me help you with a place to stay for a few weeks so you can work on your dissertation and achieve the goals that you’ve managed to work toward in what little time you’ve spared for yourself. Stay with me. I mean it. It won’t be weird.”

So unfair. He was playing the noble big brother card and the sweet guy card—the two trump cards—at the same time.

When she still couldn’t quite get herself to agree, he reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

“Who’re you calling?”

“Brian. I’ll have him convince you.”

Alarmed, she grabbed for his phone. “No. Don’t do that. I’d rather he and Skylar not know about…this.”

A hopeful grin lit his face. “So there’s a ‘this’ between us now?”

She shoved his phone back into his pocket. “It appears there is.”

“Does this mean I can go ahead and start putting your luggage in my car?”

“IF I decide to do this, I’ll be putting my luggage in my car and driving over to your place tomorrow.”

“As long as you’re sure your car will make it that far.”

She pinched his arm.

He chuckled and gave her a reassuring smile. “I promise, if you hate it at my house, I’ll have my mechanic look at your car so you can drive it all the way to California.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She didn’t want him to do that. She didn’t want him spending money on her the way he did his other women. “My car is fine.”

“I could always call Brian to ask him what he thinks about you driving that insurance risk on wheels over state lines.”

Glaring at him, she huffed, “You don’t play fair at all.”

“Nope. That’s actually the tagline on my business card.” He winked.

Sugarplums, a man this hard should not have such a playful, sexy wink. What was the universe thinking when they’d allowed that combination in his genetic makeup?

She mulled over the situation. Or at least convinced herself she was, even though deep down she knew she’d already been ready to say yes after his moving speech about her goals. “If you’re sure it won’t get weird, I’d very much appreciate you letting me stay at your house, Connor. Thank you.”

He flashed her a boyishly happy grin, one Abby hadn’t seen on him yet. Thankfully. Because the effect was almost overkill on the man. With the contrast of his sexy, espresso dark hair—almost black in this light—and his shockingly blue eyes that looked so hauntingly deep at times, the man was a danger to female kind the world over.