Anything for You
Page 61

He tilted his head in question. Then she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. And kissed him some more, and more after that, until the only thought in her head was Connor O’Rourke of the perfect mouth and the curly eyelashes, generous heart and strong arms.
“So where’s my prize?” she asked finally.
“Right,” he said, his eyes smoky. “Coming up, my queen.”
It was one of those little crane games that were nearly impossible to win. “Davey got stuck in one of these once,” Jess mused as Connor frowned in concentration. She leaned against the glass box. “He climbed right in, and it took an hour and a half to get him out, but boy, did he have fun. They gave him eight stuffed animals.”
“Hush, woman, you’re breaking my concentration,” he said. “What’s your preference?”
She studied the prizes in the case. “The bunny with the bow in her hair.”
“You got it.” Connor maneuvered the crane toward the stuffed animal. The crane claw opened and dropped, and it did grab something, though not the bunny. It was a plastic bubble holding something green.
“Just what I wanted,” Jess said.
“This thing is rigged,” Connor grumbled.
“Really? Go figure.”
The bubble dropped into the dispenser. Inside the container was a tiny little plastic creature with fangs and a tuft of green hair. It was quite cheerful. “I love it,” she said.
“What did you win? What is it, Jess?” Davey said, careening over, his face sticky with cotton candy.
“It’s a little green monster,” she said.
“Can I have it?”
“Not this time,” she said, looking at Connor. “This one’s for me. What should we name it?”
“Yoshi,” Davey said instantly.
“Let me see if I can win you something, Davey,” Keith said, and so it was that Davey ended up with the bunny, and Jess with Yoshi, the little alien monster.
“You want to trade?” Davey asked sweetly, knowing she liked rabbits.
“Not on your life,” Jessica said. “Connor won this for me.”
“It was difficult, yes, but the spoils of war were worth it,” Connor murmured.
“And Dad won that for you,” she said.
Her father stopped abruptly, then continued walking. His eyes were on the ground, but he looked up for a second, and she saw that those eyes were full of tears.
Oh.
She’d called him Dad.
First time in about twenty years. And she didn’t want to take it back, either. She smiled at him a little, and something shifted inside her, like a shade lifting from a window, flooding the room with light.
* * *
CONNOR INVITED THE Dunn family to eat at O’Rourke’s that night, despite the sickening amount of food Davey had eaten at the fair. The kid could use some vegetables; Connor was hoping to get a salad in him after the cotton candy, three hot dogs and caramel corn he’d managed to consume.
He was on in the kitchen, at his best, a fast, smooth rhythm with Rafe and the servers, one of those nights when everything was going perfectly. The menu was gorgeous—seared scallops in a cilantro remolata and ginger-lime beurre blanc; filet mignon with a mustard cognac sauce; the Kobe truffle burger with shallots and Roma tomatoes, in addition to the O’Rourke’s classics. Connor chopped, sliced, seared, roasted, plated and stirred, barely hearing his cousins call out the orders, but registering them nonetheless. In the Zen, Colleen called it.
Rafe’s strawberry shortcake with Devonshire cream was a huge hit, as was the homemade ice cream with caramelized ginger and seared apples. Colleen wasn’t working tonight, but Jordan seemed to be holding her own, Monica helping her out from time to time.
And every time Connor looked out the kitchen window, he saw his woman.
Jeremy Lyon had joined the Dunns, which was nice, because without him, Jess might’ve felt a little uncomfortable—outed as his girlfriend, dining with her father, the former town drunk. But Jeremy was a master at putting people at ease. Even Prudence and Carl stopped by the table to talk.
It was pretty damn nice to be able to look at Jess and not have her pretend he was just her old buddy from high school. Nice that Davey didn’t freak out at the sight of him. Nice that Keith was only drinking water.
“You should go out there and take a bow,” Rafe said around nine-thirty, when the orders had slowed. “You were incredible tonight.”
Connor usually hated doing that, but tonight was different.
He washed his hands, took off his apron and went into the restaurant. “Bravo, Chef!” Pru called, and sure enough, the restaurant patrons burst into applause.
Connor rolled his eyes and smiled, gave a little nod, then went over to Jessica’s booth. “How was everything tonight?” he asked.
“Excellent, Connor, absolutely fantastic,” Jeremy said, and Keith nodded in agreement.
“It was good,” Davey said. “I had nachos and chili.”
But Connor was really just asking Jessica. She didn’t answer, just looked up at him with those beautiful green cat’s eyes, and smiled.
His woman. In his restaurant. And everyone knew it.
He leaned over and kissed her, getting a little more applause from the bar regulars. She didn’t pull away.
“I always thought you two were a great couple,” Jeremy said smugly, reaching for his wallet. “Let me get this.”
“Dinner’s on the house tonight,” Connor said. “And I better get back in the kitchen. See you later.” Again, his eyes met Jessica’s.
A perfect day. That’s what today had been.
He’d drop by her place later, see if she was still up. If not, he’d stare at her window, because why not, right? He was stupid with love. No shame in that.
It was past midnight (late by Manningsport standards) when Connor turned off the kitchen lights. He’d sent everyone else home.
But something didn’t feel right. Someone was still here.
A noise came from the back. From the ladies’ room, specifically.
Connor walked back and knocked on the door. “Hello? We’re closing,” he said.
A squeaky sound came from inside. Then someone cleared her throat. “Just a second.”
Water ran and was turned off, and then the door opened.
“Jordan. I thought you went home.”
“On my way.”
Her eyes were red. Ah, shit. She’d been crying.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, and immediately wished he hadn’t, because her face crumpled, and tears practically popped out of her eyes, and that squeaky sound came out of her like hiccups. “Oh, hey,” he said. “Come on, sit down.”
He guided her to the nearest table. Got her some napkins to dab her face. She failed to dab. Got her a glass of water, which she didn’t drink. She just sat there and cried.
Where was Colleen when he needed her?
“Jordan,” he asked, “what happened, kid? Was someone mean to you?”
“Yes!”
“Who?”
“You!”
“What?”
“I love you and you have no idea,” she wept. “It’s so hard working here. I should quit.”
Connor tried not to wince. “Uh...hey. There, there.” He handed her a napkin. Her eyes produced quite a few tears. Quite a few.