“There was more, but Liam kept eating them.”
Connor’s eyebrows rise so fast that they almost hit his hairline.
“Liam?” he growls. “What the fuck was he doing here?”
I blink in surprise, my hands freezing where they’re serving the chicken casserole. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Connor angry, but he sounds wicked angry now.
Tiggy didn’t mention Connor and Liam having issues with each other, and Liam didn’t indicate anything. Shit. I hope I haven’t screwed things up wicked bad. IknewI shouldn’t have let people into his house without clearing it first.
“T-Tiggy came to visit me. Liam was with her.” I eye him carefully, my fingers pressing against the smooth, cool countertop on either side of the casserole dish. “I hope it was okay to invite her in. She said that she’s married to your cousin?”
The stiffness in Connor’s shoulders lessens as he offers me a tight smile.
“Of course, lass.” He nods, opening the fridge and pulling out two beers. “Did you like Tiggy?”
His voice is way less growly now. Thank goodness. He might have been growling because he was annoyed, but it was doingthingsto my insides. Mylowerinsides.
Picking the spoon back up, I drop my eyes, resuming serving the casserole. As I carry the two plates to the small kitchen table, Connor takes his seat, placing a beer in front of my plate.
As I sink into my seat, Connor’s eyebrows raise like he’s asking a question. Right. Tiggy Fitzpatrick. I smile, picking up my fork.
“She’s very lovely. And very pregnant.”
Connor snorts, nodding as he dives into his meal, a smile tugging at his lips.
I have been getting better at recognizing Connor’s moods. Over the week I have been here, I have seen that same smile many times. I think it means he likes what he’s eating. I’ll add casserole to the growing list of foods on rotation.
We eat in silence for a while. Sometimes we chat about our day, but most of the time… this silence is normal.
Oh my god! A foot brushes against mine under the table, my breath catching. When I look up, his sleepy gray eyes burn into my face.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, feeling all squirmy. The brushing foot didn’t help. At least he is withdrawing it now. If I’m not careful, I will have a cold shower and wake up blushing to a sexy dream about myboss.
Connor doesn’t immediately reply, studying my face with pursed lips like he’s trying to decide what to say.
“Why did you accept this job?”
I sigh, fiddling with my fork. I don’t want to pour out my embarrassment to my boss. Even if he didn’t look like…this… I wouldn’t want to admit the whole thing.
“I needed a job,” I settle on at last. “And a place to live. This fixed both those problems.”
His burning gaze doesn’t lessen as he waits to see if I’m going to elaborate. When I don’t, he speaks again, sounding curious.
“Why did you need a job and a place to live?”
I chew on my lower lip, shrugging when I can’t think of a good lie. The truth might be best. Connor is a mobster. He could probably easily find out if I’m lying.
“I got fired and dumped.” I laugh wryly. “It was a hell of a week.”
Understatement of the century, but I’m going to have to put the memory of my lovely apartment out of my mind. It’s gone. I’m never going to live there again. It’s time I moved on. This place is much nicer. I’ve landed on my feet.
Connor studies me carefully for a moment longer, a tension I didn’t even realize was there draining out of him. His stiff shoulders relax, and I fight the urge to let my eyes flutter closed in relief.
He was obviously expecting a wicked sad tale. Thank goodness I didn’t tell him the whole story. I don’t want my boss to pity me.
His foot brushes against mine again as he returns to eating his meal in silence. I grip my fork, thankful that my breathing doesn’t hitch this time.Out loud.
“My pa was killed when I was a little lad,” Connor says offhandedly. I blink at him, my fingers frozen on my fork. What the hell am I supposed to say to that? He’s never talked about his life before.