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“I’m worried about Finn’s reaction, I’m not gonna lie,” I said. “That won’t stop me from telling him the truth, though. Because nothing scares me like the thought of losing you.” I walked closer and spoke again before he could. “I think you’re forgetting that I’ve got some baggage too, Shan. I’ve never had a real relationship before, you’re the only man I’ve ever loved like this, and I have abandonment issues shootin’ outta every orifice.” Coming to a stop right in front of him, I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Sometimes, I still struggle to burden you with my problems, but I’m working on it. I know it makes us both happier when we share the workload.”
“Good.” He reached out and fiddled with one of my suspenders. “I can’t be Grade A Daddy material if you don’t let me take care of my boy.”
I sighed through a chuckle and closed the distance between us. “You’re right.” I pecked him softly, chastely. “I want to share a home with you. A new place that’s just ours, a fresh start.” I felt his tentative smile against my lips. “I want dates in public, I want us to go to the symphony again, I want my place in Andorra to be ours, I want a little house for us in Killarney too… I want it all with you, Shannon. And I want to show it.” I swallowed my nerves and retrieved my wallet. “I’ve been carrying these around for months, trying to come up with a romantic way to tell you that I don’t give a rat’s ass about the institution of marriage but that it would make my day—and then some—if you would do me the honor of wearing a ring with my name in it. Because I would very much like to wear one with yours.”
I pinched the rings between my fingers and held them up between us.
His smile began at the corners of his mouth, just a cautious upward twitch, before something softened in his eyes and the smile grew.
“The honor would be mine.” He kissed me unhurriedly, deeply, and stole the rings from me. “I might give a rat’s ass about the institution of marriage in the future, though. Possibly.”
“I wouldn’t have expected anything less from the man who raised Finnegan.” I grinned and kissed his cheek. “On the other hand, you raised Patrick too.”
Pat hadn’t been what one might call a traditionalist.
“Don’t forget I raised you as well, my little anarchist.” Shan smirked.
I snorted, then watched as he placed one of the rings on my finger.
It was indescribable. I flexed my fingers and caught the gold glinting in the lights shining above us. And fuck me if it didn’t feel even better to see my ring on Shan’s finger.
“I love you.”
He smiled and hugged me to him. “I love you too, my darling.” His hands slipped down to squeeze my ass. “Let’s go home so I can show you just how much—before I call the Realtor.”
I was cool with that.
So Emilia gave birth to twin boys in Ireland during her extended “lunch break.”
I should’ve put money on that.
She’d had some pains shortly before they were supposed to come home, after which her new doctor in Killarney had put her on bed rest. And with the boss and his family out of the country, I couldn’t do a whole lot with my free time except move in with the man of my dreams and hope we didn’t give Finn a heart attack when he came home.
It was no longer a matter of telling him I was dating his father. We’d just bought a penthouse together, we’d been together for over a year, and we wore rings that looked ridiculously good on us and showcased our commitment to each other.
What could go wrong?
Finn was gonna be thrilled.
After grabbing our mail in the downstairs lobby, I took the elevator up to the twenty-first floor and wondered what Shan had come up with today. His decorating personality was…interesting. He’d started talking to himself—almost carrying on entire conversations—and he was extremely set in his vision.
The day we got the keys, we’d come up here and walked around in our new home, and he’d told me, “Grace had one quality I was never a fan of—but given the nature of our relationship, it made sense. She couldn’t decorate a home with only the two of us in mind. Every room had to center around entertainment. Nobody loved entertaining guests like she did. So our living rooms and dining rooms were always designed to fit dozens of guests. Dinner parties, family get-togethers—every social function she could think of.” Then he’d turned to me and grabbed my hand. “I want the opposite with you, Kellan. I want comfort. I care less about where second cousins and nieces will sit at reunions and much more about where you and I will sit when we enjoy a movie or a football game.”
