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“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen, Sean.” I keep my tone light and conversational. Seamus and Connor’s eyes flicker over me, but they hold their tongues.
“Paddy,” Sean reasons with me. “I realize ye feel protective of this lass, but she’s no one to ye. We need to be picking our battles carefully, son. This is not the hill ye want to die on.”
“Actually, I think this is exactly the hill I want to die on, Sean.”
His eyes narrow as he studies my face, watching me carefully.
“For some lass, ye hardly know?”
A muscle ticks in my jaw, and a look of disbelief flashes across his face.
“Ye’re fucking her.” It’s not a question, and his tone is flat. “I’m sure she’s a good lay, lad. But there are plenty of good-looking lasses who know their way around a bedroom out there, son. Let this one go.”
“Pick your next words very carefully, Sean,” I speak slowly and evenly. “I’ll not sit here and have you disrespect my woman.”
“Fuck,” Seamus mutters beside me, eyes fluttering closed briefly. “I should have fucking known.”
“What d’ye mean?” Sean breaks his glare at me to glance over at his son. But Seamus ignores him, focusing on me.
“Are you in love with her?” he asks me, his lips twisting into a smirk. I turn to stare at him, raising my eyebrows in annoyance.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Fitzy?” I snap at him. This is not the time, nor the place, for some whimsical fucking gossip session.
“How’s the cuddling going?” he smirks. I narrow my eyes into a glare.
“Fuck off, Fitzy,” I grit out through clenched teeth. Can the bastard not appreciate the situation we have going on here?
“Do you snuggle with her every night when you go to sleep?” he mocks me, and I grind my jaw. I will slam my fist into his fucking face if he doesn’t shut his ugly mug soon.
Now it’s me, who Connor is staring at with horrified fascination. I flip him off while I signal to Seamus with my eyes that I’m going to rip his fucking face off if he doesn’t stop talking.
“Do you like the way her hair smells?”
“What the fuck?” Connor mutters under his breath from the other side of Seamus. I ignore Lucky’s confusion.
I know exactly what Seamus is doing. Fucking vanilla. I can smell it in my fucking nostrils. Whatever flashes in my eyes, the amused look drops right off Seamus’s face, and he turns to his father, his voice hard.
“The Carmichael lass is off the table. You find out from Gianni what he needs to make this right, and we will see to it.”
Sean doesn’t look pleased, but I relax my fists. For the first time since Sean started talking, I’m feeling more confident that Lauren isn’t going to be ripped away from me and thrown to the wolves. If Seamus is on my side, Lauren will be safe.
Chapter Thirteen
LAUREN
A knock at the door distracts me from polishing Paddy’s doorknobs. There are only five of them, so I’m making them shine. Boredom really doesn’t suit me.
Dropping the cloth on the dish rack next to the sink, I walk to the door and take a deep breath. Should I have grabbed a knife? It might only be Liam – the errand boy from last time Paddy needed groceries. We’re running short again. Maybe he’s brought some food.
Opening the door slowly, I blink in surprise. It isn’t Liam. The strawberry blonde Irishman from the underground fight stands at my doorway, looking uncomfortable.
“Lauren Carmichael, aren’t ye?” he asks at last. I nod, wondering what he’s doing here. He doesn’t have any groceries, and I thought he was Lucky’s bodyguard.
“Course ye are,” he mutters under his breath. “What other lass would Paddy have in his home?”
I have to bite back a smile at the observation, a feeling of smugness surging through me.
“I need ye to come with me, lass.” He looks like he doesn’t like the idea one little bit. Why wouldn’t he like it? My heart thumps in my chest, nausea swirling around. I finally find my voice.
