“I’ll put his bag in there.” Conor had made himself comfortable in her bedroom—and in her bed—claiming to be there in case she needed anything during the night. Last night, she’d woken up and found him watching her sleep. The image was comforting. She closed her eyes, suddenly exhausted.

“You look tired. I’ll let you get some rest.” Her father stood.

He walked out with Conor. Content, Louisa closed her eyes and listened to the dog snore.

Two months later

She stared at her e-mail. She’d spent her first morning back at work sorting through her inbox. Dr. Cusack had stopped by twice to tell her not to tax herself and to leave early if necessary. Apparently, he’d been starstruck by her father, who had visited the museum several times and would be guest lecturing at the university. Cusack had even been reading Ward’s latest book on the sly, which he’d been hiding from Louisa in his desk.

Her office door opened. “Honest, April, I’m fine.”

“Do I look like April?” Conor walked in, a thermal lunch bag in his hand. He closed the door behind him and leaned on it. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t working too hard.”

“You drove me here this morning. I’m fine. The doctor cleared me for all normal activities.”

His eyes glinted. “All normal activities?”

“Well, no triathlons, but other than that I can do whatever I feel up to.”

He locked the door behind him. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

Conor stalked to the desk. He knelt in front of her.

She cupped his unshaven jaw. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He turned his head into her palm. “I have two things for you.”

“Two?” Louisa could only think of one thing at that moment.

He set the bag on her desk. “The first one is your lunch.”

“Is that a grilled cheese sandwich?”

“It is, though you should be sick of those by now.” Conor shook his head. “You’ve eaten one nearly every day for two months.”

“Never.” She kissed him hard on the mouth.

The renovations on Conor’s apartment were finished weeks ago, but he’d never left Louisa’s condo. Instead, he was renting out the unit over the bar to Sullivan’s new bartender and parking his motorcycle boots next to her bed. He had a chunk of space in her closet—and her heart.

He kissed her back. His mouth tasted of coffee. Conor angled his head and deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking hers.

Tingles shot up Louisa’s thighs. “You said you had two things for me.”

“I do.” He kissed her again. His face split in a wicked grin. His hands slid around her ankles and ran up her thighs. Desire warmed her. “Are you wearing panties?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out.”