Chapter 31

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Connor took more pleasure in pointing the hose at his brother than he should have.

“Sadist,” Erikson growled as freezing cold water dripped down his face. “You’re a sadist and these women are sadists.”

“What happened, anyway?” Connor asked, shutting the spigot off when enough mud had been washed away that Erikson was once again recognizable. He crossed his arms and grinned at his brother. Erikson was hard to work into a snit, so it was an interesting change of pace to see his carefree and charismatic younger brother sputtering and raging.

“What happened is I should have stayed in Montana.”

“Agreed. Like I told you on the phone, I have this handled.”

“Is that so?” Erikson pulled his shirt over his head and wrung it out. “Is that why I saw you looking at the dark-haired woman on the porch like she was Helen of fricking Troy?”

“That dark-haired woman is Holly,” Connor said through clenched teeth, “and you’ll watch your mouth when you talk about her.”

Erikson’s head jerked up, and they stared at each other in astonishment. Connor had never, ever threatened his brother over a woman before. He hadn’t meant to now, but the words had come out of their own volition when he’d heard the scorn in Erikson’s voice.

“Damn.” Erikson gave a low whistle. “I can’t wait to meet Holly now.”

“Don’t do that,” Connor snapped.

“Do what?”

“Be a dick.”

They rounded the barn, Erikson squelching with every step, and nearly ran into Charlotte. She was wearing neon green from head to toe and clashed with, well, everything.

“Erik!” she cried happily, but when she spotted his bare chest and wet jeans, she wrinkled her nose. “What happened to you?”

“One of the Celeste sisters, that’s what. I stopped to help her rescue a fawn caught in the mud, and neither of them was grateful. Do the trailers have showers?”

“Sad little streams of water dribble from sad little showerheads if that’s what you mean.”

“Good enough.” He slapped Connor on the shoulder. “See you in ten.”

Charlotte watched him go and then warily turned back to Connor. “Don’t be mad.”

“Mad that you went behind my back and called my brother? Why would that make me angry?”

She sighed. “Okay, fine, it wasn’t cool—I get it. I just thought you needed him out here, that’s all. Things are starting to feel … complicated. You missed the network call last night. You never miss a call.”

“Nothing is complicated, Char. At least nothing that concerns the show. We’re almost done with the second episode, and we have a third in the wings. Another week or so and we’ll be out of here.” It didn’t mean anything that his stomach clenched at the thought, and some small part of him rebelled at the idea of leaving Holly.

“If you say so.”

“I say so.”

While Erikson showered and Charlotte returned to the trailer to look over the dialogue they’d written for the final Wicked Good Apples episode, Connor ignored the thousands of tasks waiting for him, and went to find Holly.

He eventually discovered her in the apple cellar, sorting through crates of apples for the next batch of cider. Connor wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed the side of her neck, breathing in her unique Christmas scent. He knew their … whatever this was … was still new, and they were in the infatuation stage, but he couldn’t imagine not wanting to spend time with her, not wanting to kiss her soft mouth, not wanting to watch her wear those sexy jeans while she did chores around the farm.

Holly tilted her head back, smiled, and nuzzled into him. “Good morning.”

Connor turned her around and drew her in for a hug. “At least an interesting one, if not a good one. How are you feeling?”

“About?”

“Everything. About me knowing what you are. About us.”

He released her, and Holly brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and shrugged. “I feel fine.” She waited a beat. “Okay, I feel freaking great. I’ve never shared our secret with anyone before, and it felt cathartic. And the sex wasn’t bad.”

“Wasn’t bad!” Connor growled in mock offense. He grabbed the edge of her plaid and tugged her close again until her body was pressed into his.

Holly peeled off her work gloves and set them on top of a crate before she wrapped her arms around his neck. Why was it such a turn-on watching her take off work gloves? He had it bad.

“It’s just that it was so dark, and it all happened so fast.”

“We were out there for hours.”

She bit her lip, her eyes dancing. “All I’m saying is that it seems like something we should do again so we can really lean into the experience.”

“Now you’re talking,” he said just before his mouth landed on hers.

Where the sex they’d had in the apple orchard had been dreamy and then carnal, their coupling in the apple cellar was frantic and fun. They laughed almost as much as they moaned, peeling off clothes and shucking boots. Connor used the apple crates for some creative angles and was rewarded with expressions of pure pleasure on Holly’s face.

He loved that she loved her body. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her voluptuous figure, from the way her dark hair contrasted with her skin and how green her hazel eyes turned when they went unfocused with lust. She was open to trying anything, even if it was goofy. Even if it meant both of them toppling off an apple crate and laughing hysterically in a tangle of naked limbs until they began kissing in earnest, and then it wasn’t so funny any longer.

Connor had had passionate sex before, and he’d even tried to make love with his ex when she’d complained that he barely looked at her during sex, but he’d never had fun in a way that went beyond physical pleasure. It wasn’t just Holly’s sweet, clenching body that he enjoyed; it was everything: her smile, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, her throaty laugh, how her eyes looked up at him when her mouth was full.

Holly wasn’t only a dynamo in bed—she was someone he could one day call his best friend. He admired her strength, respected her opinions, and hell if she didn’t make him laugh more in a day than he usually did in a week.

He was filled with unexpected sadness when he realized it was a friendship that would never progress.

An hour, several knocked-over apple crates, and multiple orgasms later, they were rebuttoning their shirts, their cheeks glowing with satisfaction.

“Are you happy now that your brother is here?” Holly asked as she crouched to collect apples that had rolled out of a tipped-over crate.

Connor joined her, fitting three of the small apples in the palm of his hand. “I’m always happy to see Erikson.”

“But?”

“Who said there was a but ?”

“That line between your brows.”

He sighed and gently laid the apples in the crate. “He thinks I’ve become distracted from the focus of the show.”

“Distracted by me?” she asked, gesturing to herself with wide, innocent eyes.

Connor scooped up another handful of apples. “Yeah, you.”

“Connor, it’s okay to tell him what we are.”

If Connor had been holding the apples, he would have dropped them again. He couldn’t believe his ears. Holly had devoted her life to keeping her family secret quiet. In a literal sense their lives depended on that secrecy. It sickened Connor to imagine the hysteria and persecution that would follow if the world knew Wickeds existed. The fact that she was willing to let him share the secret with his brother was an incredible gift of trust.

Connor studied her, this woman who had given him everything, and felt humbled by how little he deserved it. What had he done for her in return? He’d brought attention to her apple farm when she’d had good reason to avoid the spotlight, and he’d hounded her until she’d had no choice but to share her secret.

Holly laid her hand on his arm. “I know Erikson will take good care of our secret. You wouldn’t trust him otherwise.”

Connor nodded and something twisted in his gut. He didn’t know what it was, but it felt a lot like those feelings Charlotte had claimed he didn’t have.