Her hips were thrusting, meeting his fingers and taking them deeper. She flicked her eyes open, saying, “I’m sore, but I don’t give a damn.”
Forty-five minutes and three orgasms later, two of which were hers, they were dressed and leaning against the kitchen island, sipping a cup of tea while continuously grinning at each other, when Eze and Nasir walked in the front door.
Eze had texted Mags two hours ago that he was picking Nasir up from the airport. The security guard apparently took a flight back to Dublin an hour after landing in Nigeria.
Nasir didn’t speak, taking a solitary position near a wall in the connecting living room despite the fact that he must be exhausted. The man nodded at him and Mags, which, according to her, meant they were practically best friends now.
Eze cleared his throat, his grim demeanor on high definition. He eyed them both long enough to cause Jonathan to side-eye Mags in a “What the hell is going on here?” way. She grinned, not in the least concerned by Eze’s silence.
Another five minutes passed, during which the sipping of tea and shuffling of feet were the only noise in the house. Eze finally cleared his throat and, in a completely deadpan voice, he asked, “Margaret, shall I have Jol inquire after a carpenter to fix your bedframe?
“From the rather egregious noises coming from your room last night, I can only assume there is structural damage of some kind.”
Mags started giggling. “Eze, you ass.” She looked at Jonathan and shook her head in exasperation. “Take me to my lunch date with the girls, Jon, and then go get your work done. Maybe tonight we can destroy the furniture at your place.”
Jonathan found a parking spot near Murphy’s and insisted on walking Mags to the door, even though she insisted it wasn’t necessary.
They stood close outside the pub’s entrance. He leaned into her and gave her a quick kiss. “I don’t want to leave you,” Jonathan admitted, and even he could hear the wonder in his voice.
Mags’ wide smile dropped, and she clasped his hands tighter. “I hoped it wasn’t just me feeling that way.”
“I know you have to work after lunch, but can I pick you up for drinks tonight? I know your family wants you to stay at Eze’s until that woman is found. I’ll take you there after we go out.”
She moved close, running her hands around his sides and resting her palms on his lower back. “And will you sleep over again?”
“I didn’t want to presume,” he hedged, her laughter cutting him off before he could continue.
“Since when, you arrogant ass? I’ve never known you to not take what you wanted,” she said, jabbing her finger in his side.
“I wanted you for years, and I didn’t make a move.” He kissed her because he couldn’t help himself. Months of wantingto touch had made him insatiable. “I’ll stay over, but Eze might have something to say about that.”
Mags laughed but soon sobered, suddenly looking ill at ease. Jonanthan tightened his fingers, worried she might try to move away from him.
“What’s going on?” When she only fiddled with the tail of his t-shirt, he said, “Mags. What are you thinking?”
She blushed, but true to her personality, she swallowed and lifted her chin. “I’m going to Scotland this weekend. Mom and Dad will finally be home. This is probably too soon, and I'll have to cancel on Eze, but I thought,” she hesitated, “you might want to come with me.”
“It isn’t too soon,” he confirmed with finality. “I’ll make travel arrangements this afternoon.”
“I can?—”
“Let me take care of this small thing,” he interrupted.
thirty-three
MAGS
Mags was so happy,she practically skipped through the front door of Murphy’s Pub. Slow might work for some couples, but it didn’t suit her or Jonathan. He might not be as rash as her personality led her to be, but he was a risk-taker, and way more willing to gamble than his best friend and cousin, Daniel.
She couldn’t help the grin practically splitting her face when she saw her best friends at a high-top table near the bar. Before she joined them, she stood on the bar’s foot rail to lean far enough to give the pub’s owners and brothers, Ciaran and Cormac, hugs and kisses. Ciaran was Ciar’s father and a father figure to her and all of her friends.
She headed toward her friends, rum and Coke in hand. At her approach, the table quieted, and three sets of eyes zeroed in, clocking each step. Gray, Bébhinn, and Blair all watched her with identical knowing expressions.
“Jeez, guys, did I miss something?” She asked as she hopped up on the free chair at the table.
“I don’t know. Did you?” Gray replied dryly.
“Okay,” Mags began, “you bitches are being way too shady right now.” Blair simply pursed her lips while her brows winged high.
