Page 37 of Where We Bloom (The Blackwells of Montana #3)

Chapter Twenty

BILLIE

T wo things. One, I’ve never spent so much money in one day. And two, holy shit, shopping should be an Olympic sport because it is rigorous .

I’m exhausted after today’s gold medal performance, but Connor texted me thirty minutes ago to tell me he’s on his way back to his penthouse, and I’m making him dinner.

I’m excited to go with him to Ireland so I can see his favorite things to eat firsthand, and maybe I can learn how to make some of them.

But tonight, he’s getting spaghetti with salad and garlic knots, all from scratch except for the pasta.

As of now, everything’s ready and just waiting for him to get back.

I whirl around when I hear the elevator ding, and when Connor walks through the doors, he looks … pissed. He’s scowling, every muscle in his impressive body tight, and the energy is intense.

“Hey, are you okay? ”

“Hold on, angel,” he says, holding up a finger as he dials his phone. “Get up here, now.”

He hangs up, slips his phone into his pocket, and pulls off his tie, tossing it on the couch. As he walks through the room, with those intense green eyes pinned on me, he unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and rolls his sleeves. The frustration and anger are rolling off him in waves.

I’ve never seen him like this. I’m not afraid of him, but I’m worried about him.

“It smells good in here,” he says. His voice is rough but gentle because he’s speaking to me, but something is not right.

“I made dinner. What’s going on, billionaire?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He kisses my forehead, then the elevator doors open, and Simon strides inside. His face is impassive, showing no emotion, but his hands are in fists, displaying the tension he’s feeling.

What in the world is going on?

“My office,” Connor says, setting off down the hall, and Simon follows him.

I spent all day with Simon. He’s a handsome guy in his mid-thirties, built like a professional wrestler, with tattoos all over the place, even down his fingers and up his neck to his jawline. He doesn’t ever smile, and I tried hard to get him to grin at me.

He never did.

Simon’s kind of scary.

But he was also kind to me, and I’m worried he’s in trouble. So I do what any curious person would do, and I walk down the hall to eavesdrop.

Connor should have shut the door behind him if he didn’t want me to hear this.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Connor barks, his voice menacing. I’ve never heard that tone from him, and I don’t think I ever want it directed at me.

“Miss Blackwell asked me to drop her off so she could shop. She told me not to hover. My orders were to give her whatever she wanted, so that’s what I did.”

He’s in trouble because of me.

But he’s just a driver.

“Miller briefed you on everything going on, and you know you were hired as her personal security. If I want a driver for her, I’ll hire her a motherfucking driver.

She’s the only bloody thing in this world that matters, and you dropped her off in Downtown New York City and parked around the goddamn corner? ”

He continues to rail on Simon, completely unhinged, and I decide I’ve had enough and walk back to the kitchen.

She’s the only bloody thing in this world that matters.

Wow.

As I check and stir the sauce, I can still hear him yelling, and then things quiet, and the men walk through the penthouse again.

Simon nods at me before he calls for the elevator and leaves. Connor sighs, takes his glasses off to rub his eyes, and crosses to me.

He wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my head as I turn the burner under the sauce way down and cover it with a lid.

“You had fun shopping today?”

I turn in his arms and blink up at him. “Are you kidding me right now?”

He scowls. “What are you talking about?”

“Okay, back up.” I scoot away from him so I can pace and breathe, pausing by the dining room table to take a sip of the wine I poured when I sat there with my new laptop, working earlier before he texted me.

“You get home and immediately verbally beat the shit out of Simon, all because of me , and now you’re going to pretend that doesn’t matter? ”

“You don’t need to worry about it.”

My eyebrows climb, and I take another sip of wine. Connor sighs, bracing his hands on his hips.

“You told me I had a driver , Connor. No one said a fucking word to me about him being security or that you wanted him with me all of the time. It was my fault that I asked him to wait for me and to stop hovering because I didn’t know. ”

“It’s not your fault,” Connor counters, shaking his head. “He’s a fucking professional, and he knew what his job was today. He works for me , not for you. I need to trust that he’s doing that job and keeping you safe.”

“Why wouldn’t I be safe?” I demand. “I’m just a girl from Montana, Connor. I’m not rich. I’m not famous. I’m nobody. I’m just a tourist, wandering around the city, spending money that doesn’t even belong to me.”

Connor’s jaw clenches, the muscles bunching as his eyes gleam with rage. He stalks to me, palms the back of my neck, and pulls me against him, lowering his face to mine.

“You’re not nobody , and you’re not just anything.

Do you understand me? You’re fucking everything in this world to me.

And you’re mine. And that makes you a target.

If someone has been watching my comings and goings here, they’ve seen you with me, and that means that if they want to hurt me, they could try by hurting you, and I will not, today or any other goddamn day, let that happen. ”

“ You’re hurting me,” I whisper.

He drops his hand, but he doesn’t walk away. His brows pull together. I can see the emotion raging through him, the frustration, the anger, and the … love ?

“Christ, I’m sorry. I’d never hurt you, angel.”

“I know you wouldn’t. I’m okay. You’re upset.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“Hey, I’m fine. We just need to talk this out.

You’re always telling me to talk to you.

” I want to reach for him, to touch him, but we’re both so damn angry with each other.

“It goes both ways. I didn’t know he was there to protect me.

I didn’t know there was a threat to you and, therefore, me.

I. Didn’t. Fucking. Know. And I don’t want Simon to be in trouble or lose his job just because things happened a certain way because of choices I made out of ignorance. ”

“Why are you sticking up for Simon?” he demands, then his whole face changes. “Unless?—”

“Do not fucking go there.” I stomp to him and take his hands in mine, holding on tight. “We’re not doing that, Connor. Are you crazy? You didn’t like it on the plane last night, and I won’t tolerate that now.”

He sighs and closes his eyes. “Feck.”

“I simply know when to own my own shit. Yes, he knows his job, but it was also on me for sending him away because I didn’t know better. So I guess you should yell at me, too.”

“Goddammit, I was fucking terrified!”

He paces away from me, fisting and un-fisting his hands before he wipes his hand over his mouth and then turns and pins me in his stare.

“You know, I think I’m going to change and give you some time to calm down.”

I walk away, headed for the stairs, and then suddenly, I’m airborne, in Connor’s arms, and he’s carrying me bridal style to the couch.

“You won’t walk away from me in anger,” he says, sitting and keeping me in his arms, holding me against him. “Never. We’ll have this out and move on with it.”

“Did you fire him?”

“No.”

“Did you threaten to?”

“Fuck, yes.”

I wiggle and straddle him so I can see him better. “Why didn’t you tell me that he’s security and not just a driver?”

“I didn’t think about it. I put him with you to act as another Miller, and it didn’t occur to me to spell it out to you because I don’t ever explain myself , Billie. I’m the boss. I make the rules, I give the orders, and everyone else follows them to the letter, or they’re gone.”

“But I’m not an employee.”

“No, you’re everything.” His voice is rough, and he looks so fucking tired when he closes his eyes for just a heartbeat, then he pins me with his gaze again and skims his fingertips down my cheek to my neck, holding me so tenderly, it makes me swallow hard.

“I’m not used to relationships, angel. The one I had ended in divorce, and there hasn’t been another since.

So far, I think our communication has been pretty good. ”

“Pretty good,” I confirm. “Once you pulled your head out of your ass.”

His eyes narrow, and his hands rub up my thighs and around to my hips, and I continue.

“I’m not asking to be privy to every decision you make because that’s ridiculous, but if it involves me, I need to know, Connor.”

“You’re right.” He licks his lips, his eyes on my mouth, his hands firming on my body, as if it’s getting harder for him to keep himself under control, and it makes my nipples tighten against his chest. “I apologize. I won’t apologize to Simon because he fucked up.

He’s going to be your personal security detail for the foreseeable future. ”

“Like on this trip?”

“All the time. Even after we get home.”

I frown, slowly shaking my head. “I don’t need?—”

“ Mo rúnsearc .” He takes a deep breath and cups my face so gently, so in contrast to the anger he clearly feels. “I’m. Not. Asking.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I don’t see why I need to be protected at my shop.”

“Why are you so bleedin’ stubborn?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” I move to get off him, but he holds me in place.