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“The classics. Not modern art.”
“Everything in its proper place.” He cleared his throat. “A few years ago, I found out about you. Did some research. You have good techniques.”
He’d known about me for a couple of years but hadn’t stormed into my life?
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, wasn’t sure if my perceptions were skewed because he likedRats at Dawn. Despite the less than charming name, it was an oil painting I was particularly proud of.
I’d been in London at the time, and we’d been staying in Canary Wharf, one of the financial hubs in the capital. I’d taken to waking up at dawn and drinking coffee on the banks of the Thames while watching the city wake up as I froze my ass off.
I’d watched joggers return from their morning run head inside, get changed into slick suits, and return with expensive cases in their hands. They were the banker wankers that were so often vilified, so I’d done a little more vilifying.
A rat morphed into a jogger morphed into a city fat cat.
That collection had all been around an animal. And not always the pretty ones either. There was a kraken amid that set too.
My muse was weird. The public? Weirder still.Rats at Dawnhad sold for a million at auction last year.
Realizing that I’d fallen silent when I wanted to keep Shay’s mind off things, I muttered, “I’m glad you liked it.”
“Ratswas my favorite. Remember that time in London where we—”
As Shay reminisced, I let him, chiming in here and there with things to make him laugh. But my brain was whirring. Not only had he seen my art, known who I was for a couple of years, Dec had a favorite. Thought I had ‘good techniques’.
I hated that I was nervous. Hated that he’d turned me into a goddamn fifteen-year-old again when I was about to go to his house, meet his family for the first time in a proper setting.
Never in a million lightyears would I have expected to ever be rolling up to the O’Donnelly home for Sunday dinner, but that was how surreal my life was now—as surreal as my art.
It took a while because they lived off the beaten path, closer to upstate than the city, and it made me empathize with Declan because I knew he had to visit often and it was a bitch of a drive, but the house itself was beautiful.
A one-story building that was too short for two floors, but too tall for just the one, which I figured meant the sprawling home had super high ceilings. From the road, it was like the place was a high-security prison. The walls were tall, glass glinted on the ramparts, barbed wire glittered in the sun, and cameras twisted here and there as the car drove to the driveway.
There was a guard station, signage for several alarm companies, and to get through the gate, Declan had to roll to a halt, open his window, and salute the guy sitting in the booth.
As we drove inside, the prison vibe disappeared to be replaced with a beautifully landscaped garden that paved the way to a house that belonged in Hollywood.
It was light and breezy, lots of windows, lots of French doors that led to a terrace that ran along the side of the property. In the distance, I could see the gleam of a pool and a lot of seating areas.
“You grew up here?” Shay asked Declan, and I could sense his eagerness to know more. To learn about his dad.
“No,” Declan replied. “They moved here a few years ago.”
Didn’t take a genius to figure out why.
Security threat.
Christ, I’d barely been back a month and I’d heard that so many fucking times.
“Where did you live when you were a kid?”
“In Hell’s Kitchen. When I was really young, we lived in an apartment.”
That had my brows surging high because I hadn’t known that.
His hand drifted over to me, and for the first time, I wondered athisstate of mind because he never touched me in front of Seamus, something I really appreciated, but his hand settled on my leg. His palm wasn’t dry. Not exactly sweaty, but I just got the feeling he was nervous.
The notion soothed me because it made my own agitation feel normal. I wasn’t scared of the O’Donnellys, not anymore, but the kid in me, the kid who had taken one of their own from them, who had sneaked around with Declan, well, that kid was bricking it.
As we pulled up to a halt, the door opened. Lena and Aidan Sr. could only have recently arrived themselves, but when Lena surged out, I sensed her excitement.
