Page 16 of Where We Bloom (The Blackwells of Montana #3)

“I just needed some snuggles, okay? I don’t get them often, and no one snuggles like this girl.” I kiss her cheek, and she smiles at me.

“Did you get hurt?” She presses her hand against my cheek as her face falls into a worried scowl.

“No, baby. Your daddy and uncles are just super nosy.” I brush my nose over hers, making her giggle. “You don’t need to worry about a thing. Ever. Now, what are you making us for dinner?”

“It’s taco night,” she exclaims. “And I’m grating the cheese.”

“Yum. ”

“Come on,” Dani says, standing and holding her hand out for Birdie’s. “Let’s go get dinner started.”

Birdie gives me one more squeeze, then she climbs off my lap and follows Dani, Bridger and Blake inside. Beckett winks at me before taking Skyla’s hand and following the others.

“I haven’t seen you yet,” Brooks says. He pulls me up and into his arms, squeezing me hard.

I feel Connor’s gaze on me, but I don’t look his way because this hug is making me emotional.

Brooks is the oldest of us, and I’m the baby. And although all of my brothers have always been my protectors, Brooks takes that role the most seriously.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is gruff. He smells a bit like motor oil, thanks to his auto repair shop, and fresh air, thanks to riding on his bike.

“Stop.” I shake my head and pat him on the chest. “Seriously, I feel fine. Maybe a little hungry, but there are tacos inside, and I’m always hungry whenever anyone mentions Mexican food. As evidenced by my hips.”

I think I hear Connor growl behind me, and Brooks pulls back.

“Don’t you ever put yourself in that kind of a position again, little girl.” He’s glaring at me, but I know it’s a front.

He was scared. Brooks is rarely scared, but when he turned up last Sunday, I saw true fear in his eyes. It took Blake and me about thirty minutes to reassure him that I was okay.

“Right.” I roll my eyes. “Because it was my fault. But don’t worry, I’m never drinking alcohol again. Just the thought of it makes me want to toss cookies.”

Brooks shifts his gaze to Connor. “Thanks again.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” the man replies, speaking for the first time since he arrived.

“We both know that’s not true,” Brooks replies before turning and walking inside, leaving me alone on the porch with a certain sexy Irishman.

“Well, that went better than I thought it would. They all hover. It’s the side effect of being the youngest out of a bunch of boys.

” I lower my butt to the chair across from Connor and rub my hands up and down my thighs.

His gaze moves down my body, over my pink tank top, my simple denim wide-leg capris, to my sandal-covered feet.

And when those green orbs return to my face, there’s heat in them.

Christ, he’s beautiful. He’s in jeans himself and a plain black T-shirt that shows off the defined muscles of his biceps, which always sends my lady bits into overdrive. Every time he’s dressed casually, it’s a punch to the gut.

His dark hair is tousled, his chiseled jaw covered in a light stubble, and I wonder if he slept well last night.

I know I didn’t.

“How are you?” I ask him, and by the way he presses his lips together, the question seems to take him by surprise. I want to reach out and take his hand, so I fist my own and keep it in my lap. His eyes fall to watch the movement, and his jaw firms. “Doesn’t anyone ever ask how you are?”

“Not often.” He pushes his fingers through his hair and nudges his glasses up his nose. “I’m well, thank you for asking.”

So he gets formal when he’s taken off guard.

I feel like so many things are falling into place, and I’m seeing him through a different lens.

“I guess my whole family must have reached out to thank you for what you did.”

He narrows his eyes. “Aye.”

“Even my parents?”

He doesn’t look away from me. “Aye.”

With a nod, I reach up to finger the pendant at my throat and bite my lip. “Are you hungry?”

He stands and offers me his hand. Without hesitation, I take it, soaking in the warmth from his touch, and let him pull me to my feet.

And when we’re just inches apart, he tips my chin up so he can look me in the eyes.

“Tomorrow,” he murmurs. “I’d like to spend the day with you.”

I almost agree, and then I blink. “I can’t.” I see his face close off and hurry to explain. “I would like that, but I really can’t. I only have two employees, and I want two people in the store at all times. Tiffany is having a medical procedure done and can’t work tomorrow, so I have to go in.”

He seems to visibly relax with that explanation.

“What day would work for you, angel?” he asks.

“I can take Friday.” It feels so far away, but I want Tiffany to have enough time to recover. “She’ll be back at work on Friday.”

Connor nods and leans in to press a kiss to my forehead. “Friday it is, then. Let’s go inside.”

“Connor—”

He cuts me off and kisses my forehead once more.

“Friday.”

It’s Tuesday night, and I’m so fucking tired.

God, I wish I could just sleep through the night like a normal person. But I can’t. I’ve done all the meditations, the affirmations, the mental exercises. I’ve tried medications, but they make me too drowsy the next day.

Melatonin gives me nightmares.

Magnesium helps, but then I took too much of it and couldn’t get out of the bathroom.

Nothing works.

I’m finally home from work, and it’s late in the evening. Later than usual for me, but my second employee, Emily, had a family emergency, leaving me alone at the shop for the afternoon. I had too much to do after I locked up to simply walk away and come home.

Hopefully, Emily will be able to work tomorrow.

I’ve just kicked off my shoes, like I do every night as soon as I walk through the door, when my phone pings with an incoming text .

Expecting it to be Skyla or Dani, I wait to check it until after I’ve changed into comfortable clothes and washed my face.

But when I look at the screen, I’m surprised to see that it’s Connor.

Connor: How was work today?

I frown, then look over my shoulder as if someone’s there to laugh. As if this might be a joke.

Connor Gallagher is texting me , asking about my day?

This is new.

Chewing on my lip, I type out a response.

Busy, which is good, but I was left alone for the afternoon, so I just got home. Long day. No complaints, though, because I killed it in sales. How was your day?

I pad into the kitchen and stare at my empty fridge. I didn’t make time for the grocery store, let alone any kind of meal prep this week. I’m considering calling Old Town Pizza when my phone pings with a response.

Connor: Meetings all day. About to go into another one but wanted to check on you. What’s for dinner?

With a chuckle, I send him a photo of my empty fridge, then type my response.

Pizza, I think. I should really get to the store sometime this week. What are you having? Something fancy in your fancy meeting?

The bubbles dance on the screen as I pour fresh water into my tumbler.

Connor: I’m having a steak. If you were here, I’d share it with you.

Holy shit, who is this man, and what has he done with broody Connor? He’s flirting with me.

Maybe I’d make you buy me my own steak. I’m pretty hungry.

His response is immediate.

Connor: You can have whatever you want, bumble.

I still hate that nickname, but my lips twitch.

Have a good meeting.

Connor: Good night.

I place my pizza order and take a shower while waiting for it. The timing is perfect because the doorbell rings just after I’ve combed out my wet hair and slathered on my moisturizer.

But when I open the door, it’s not the pizza delivery kid.

It’s Miller .

“Miss,” he says with a nod. “I have some things for you. Do I have your permission to bring the bags into the kitchen?”

“Uh, sure.” With a scowl, I step back from the door, then watch, stunned, as Miller proceeds to bring in three trips of groceries, many bags in each of his hands with each trip.

“Would you like me to put these away?”

I blink at him. “Why did you bring me groceries?”

“Boss’s orders.” He offers me a half smile. “Would you like me to put them away, or would you rather do it yourself?”

“I’ll do it. Um, thanks. Do I tip you?”

“No.” Miller actually laughs now and walks to the door. “Have a good night, miss.”

Before he can shut the door behind him, the pizza delivery kid arrives, smiling at me.

“Hey, Billie, here’s your order.”

“Thanks, Curt.” I smile and pass him his tip money. “Take care.”

“You, too,” Curt says before pocketing the cash and whistling his way down to his car.

I notice Miller watches, not leaving until after Curt pulls away, and I send him a wave before I close the door, pizza box in hand, and stare at the bags on my kitchen counter.

Between bites of pepperoni with extra cheese, I systematically go through all the bags, setting everything on the countertops so I can take it all in.

“I won’t eat this much in a month,” I mutter as I survey all of the vegetables, fruits, and meats. Pretty much everything and anything I could possibly need to make anything my heart desires, including my favorite coffee creamer.

How did he manage that?

I finish the crust on my pizza and send Connor a message.

The grocery fairy just visited my house disguised as Miller! I wonder how that happened?

Within seconds, his response comes in.

Connor: I have no idea.

My lips spread into a wide smile as I type my response.

Thank you. You didn’t have to do that. I just ate half a pizza.

I start sorting and putting all of the groceries away. It’s a good thing my fridge was pretty much empty, to begin with. Otherwise, this wouldn’t all fit. Just as I put away the last of it, my phone pings.

Connor: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

I roll my eyes, but I’m still smiling.

Have a good meeting.