Connell (Carolina Reapers 3)

And more is what he’d given me at my barbecue.

A warmth fluttered in my core again, and I couldn’t stop thinking about his hands, his lips, his smell. Sweet mercy, I wanted to drown in that man.

We’d kept our distance for the last six days as the construction finished up on the bare bones of the reserve, but I couldn’t tell if it was out of a sense of self-preservation, or if he’d had the regrets he’d tried to save me from having.

Don’t go down this road.

Right.

We weren’t in a relationship or...any type of ship, really. Besides, he was an NHL star. Traveled more than he stayed put. Pranked more than he took things seriously. And he…

Made me feel alive.

Awake.

Desired and vibrant and I’d never laughed like I did with him.

He’s temporary.

True. I knew Connell’s interest in me was a temporary thing, a curiosity he wanted to satisfy before returning to his one and only true love—hockey. And I couldn’t blame him. I loved my job as well, had found it to be my passion in life. I never knew another living soul could match that passion, set it ablaze, and burn brighter than the sun, though. Not like Connell had.

I took another sip of my coffee, letting the hot liquid soothe my mind of its churning.

A low, deep cooing-like sound hummed from my backyard, stopping me mid-second-sip.

I set down my mug, pushing back from the table, my brow furrowed. Had an animal gotten trapped in my yard again? Last summer, I had the unfortunate experience of finding a large skunk pacing the lining of my fence—clearly, the poor creature had forgotten how he’d managed to get into my yard in order to get out of it again. Luckily, I knew the best humane animal control man in Sweet Water, who came in minutes to handle it.

I grabbed my cell from the kitchen counter on the way to my back patio, just in case I had to make the same call again.

Again, that deep, nearly muted cooing sounded as I slid open my sliding glass door and stepped onto my back patio.

My phone slipped from my grasp, clattering against the navy-blue rug covering my patio.

“What in the world?” I gasped as I stared at not one or two but four fully grown ostriches.

In. My. Back. Yard.

Two of them had to be at least seven feet tall, the other two not far behind. Each was gorgeous in its own right, their black feathers inky in the morning sun.

But…they were in my backyard.

I slowly knelt, scooping up my phone. I skipped my humane animal guy’s number and dialed the one and only number that would make sense of this…situation.

“Morning,” Connell answered after one ring. “I thought I might be hearing from—”

“Get. Over. Here. Now,” I whispered into the phone, my heart racing as I watched the giant creatures strut this way and that, mere feet away from me.

“I’m already almost there,” he said, a laugh in his tone. “I thought you said you sleep in on Saturdays?”

“I do,” I whispered. “I did.”

“Seven-thirty is sleeping in to you?”

“Connell MacDhuibh,” I whisper-hissed.

“Oh no,” he said, and I could hear a car rumbling down my street. “Full name? I’m in trouble.”

“You have no idea.”

“I’m here.” The line went dead, but I heard a car door open and shut.

The sound triggered one of the larger ostriches because he went from mildly strutting to full out running.

At me.

I yelped and dashed out of the way just before he would’ve plowed me over. Squealing, I kept running the second I realized he wasn’t the least bit deterred by my attempt at escape.

The other three ruffled their feathers, but remained huddled in the corner of my backyard, near where my marigolds were in full bloom.

The grass was cold and wet against my bare feet, the morning’s condensation doing nothing to help me gain traction. Desperately, I tried to circle back, hoping to zoom back inside my house to safety, but the damn bird was clever and blocked my every attempt. All the while he rumbled that odd, throaty sound and fluffed his feathers at me.

Laughter echoed in the distance, and I spared a glance to find Connell outside my fence, his phone pointed at me.

“Connell!” I yelled, dodging the bird by only an inch.

“Uh oh,” he said, pocketing his phone at the clear desperation in my voice.

He hopped the fence in one leap, made it two me in a few strides, and then…

I was over his shoulder.

And we were back over the fence in no time flat.

Connell shifted me until he cradled me against his chest, his muscled arms warm against the bare skin of my legs. I clutched his neck, breathing rapidly from the chase.

“You all right?” He asked after I hadn’t made a move to unbury my face from his neck.