Page 67 of Sullivan

“Into the whiskey?”

“I need it.” He paused. “I need you.”

“Sully—”

He cut me off. “I’m speaking the truth. I should have told you before now. I promised you honesty then hid a part of my life away from you. A part you deserved to know. I regret that deeply.” He sighed. “I was so worried about losing you, I didn’t think it through. One way or another, I risked it happening.” There was a beat of silence. “Have I, Autumn? Have I lost you?”

A sob tore from my throat, and he groaned. “No, love, not when I can’t comfort you. Your weeping tears me apart.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so conflicted. I just don’t know.”

“I’ll take conflicted. It means there’s a chance. We’ll talk everything through. I’ll answer any questions honestly.”

“Bonnie sort of told me off a little. Said to get off my high moral ground.”

“I’ll talk to her,” he snapped.

That made me laugh. “No. She was trying to explain something, and she was right.”

“About?”

“She asked if I had to kill someone to save you, if I would.”

“And?” he asked, almost whispering.

“I said I would. In a heartbeat.”

“I wish I were there right now to kiss you. Hold you.”

I sat up, wiping my face. “It’s better you’re not. I need time to wrap my head around all this.”

“Where are you?”

“On the sofa,” I admitted.

“No, go to bed, love.”

“It feels wrong.”

“No, I want you there. I need to know you’re comfortable and warm. Safe. Holding my pillow and remembering every kiss, word, and caress between us in that bed. Remember how real we are. We will get through this.”

He was tearing me apart. His voice was rough, low, and pleading. Sexy and rich. I loved it when he spoke softly and said what was on his mind. How much he cared.

“Can you do that for me, mo fhiadh beag? Get into my bed, snuggle my pillow, and pretend it’s me you’re holding.”

“Okay.”

“Good. I’ll call you tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

“Yes.” I swallowed, my throat feeling thick. “Sully?” I asked.

“Yes, love. I’m here.”

“Please get some sleep. And be safe.”

“I will.” He added something in Irish and hung up. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I had a feeling he’d told me he loved me without putting the pressure on me to say it back.

I shook my head, knowing I had to get back to work. I heard a knock at the door, and I looked up to see Megan holding a small but stunning bouquet.