Getting Real (Getting Some #3)(16)

“Did you mean Connor Daniels?”

Slowly I turn, hoping with every fiber of my being that I’m wrong. My hope dies a quick but painful death when I come face-to-face with Callie Daniels’s friendly green eyes.

I force a swallow down my panic-narrowed throat and wave a sweaty-palmed hand as nonchalantly as I can manage.

“No. Not Connor Daniels. Definitely not. I meant another Connor.”

Callie’s light-blond brows furrow and her blond head tilts in curiosity.

“Oh. Another Connor?”

Lying isn’t a skill I possess. So, I literally say the first thing that pops into my head—it’s my only defense.

“From Tacoma.”

I never said it would be a good defense.

Callie squints. I don’t blame her.

“Connor from Tacoma?”

“Yes.”

“Like, Tacoma, Washington?”

When I was twelve, my neighbor, Noah Jarvis, convinced me to run across Highway 9 to the Dunkin’ Donuts on the other side. Halfway across the southbound lane, Noah panicked, turned around, and tried to run back.

He got hit by a Range Rover and spent the whole summer in traction.

Moral of the story? The only way through is forward—always stick with the plan.

“Yep . . . that’s where Tacoma is.”

“Really?” she asks, like she absolutely doesn’t believe me but is too nice to say so.

And that’s when I cave. Because lying is just too exhausting. The inconvenient truth tears out of me in a rapid-fire burst.

“Okay, no—not really. I meant Connor Daniels. But for the love of God, you can’t say anything! To anyone!”

Callie says nothing for a few seconds. She just stares at me, looking me over, a slow, sly smile sliding onto her pretty face.

“This is fantastic!”

“No one!” I stop short of screeching—but it’s close.

“Connor is my brother-in-law. I could introduce you.”

I rub my hands over my face—because she’s not listening to a word I’m saying.

“Violet works at the hospital. She’s a nurse.”

Lainey Burrows has entered the chat. Coming up beside me and Callie—and she’s not helping either.

Because news of my occupation just delights Callie Daniels even more.

“That’s perfect!” she says. “So you and Connor must know each other already?”

I grab their arms and drag the three of us into a tighter triangle in the corner, to keep the sound of our voices contained and knowledge of my mortifying crush drowned out by the beat of the music.

“Yes, we know each other. We work together. So you have to swear to me—woman to woman, Girl Scout pledge, sisterhood of the traveling vagina level swear—that you won’t tell anyone what you have learned here tonight. Especially NOT your husband. And it can’t be one of those ‘Oh, honey, I’m going to tell you something but you have to promise not to mention it to your brother’ kind of things that I know all you married people do, because it never works! He’s a man—he’ll talk.”

“It’s true.” Lainey says, slurring a little behind the big silver straw in her giant pink-concoction-filled Bride goblet. “Garrett came over to the house the other day so he and Dean could have a ‘strategy session’ for the upcoming football season. But all they did was gossip about which of their players was dating who and which one of them was most likely to get dumped before the first game. They were like little old ladies.”

“See! You can’t say anything, Callie. You don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t understand!” Callie says with a vehemence that takes me back a step. “You haven’t seen the women Connor has gone out with.” She ticks off each one on her newly manicured hand. “There was the girl with the dragon tattoo . . . on her face. The woman who would only eat foods that started with the letter G. The one we found out later was on the FBI’s Most Wanted list—and they’re just the tip of the shitshow. Connor’s a relationship guy, a family guy—he’s not meant to be alone. He’s going to keep searching for his better half and who knows what kind of disaster he’ll stumble across next. But you’re gorgeous! And you know Lainey and you seem normal . . . and you’re a nurse! I mean, Jesus, if Connor made his perfect woman in a computer—you are what would come out!”

A sudden heaviness weighs down on my me, crushing my tone into a whisper. A sad, truthful whisper.

“He doesn’t even see me. We’ve worked together for two years and he barely knows I’m there.”

Callie puts her hand over mine, squeezing. “What if you’re wrong? I can’t believe that Connor wouldn’t notice someone like you. What if he does see you? Or what if he just needs a little nudge to see you? Guys can be really stupid. Sometimes they need help.”

Lainey waves her pointer finger at Callie like it’s a magic wand.

“Also true.”

I let myself think about it—to imagine being set up with Connor. How he would pick me up at my house, maybe bring flowers. How easy our conversation would flow—about life, work, his kids, my brother and sisters.

I picture what it would feel like to make him smile, make him laugh, or even better—to make him groan. To have him look at me with heat and hunger in his eyes . . .