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“Y’ve got somethin’ of mine…I want it back.” My low tone is firm. I take great pleasure in seeing her pretty pink lips part as she gulps in a mouthful of air. “I care not about the rosary beads. But the brooch, I want it back, and I want it backnow.”
Her eyes dart to Darcy making gracious conversation with the aul’ fellas. “I don’t know what you’re t-talking about,” she frantically whispers, insulting me further.
When she tries to remove herself from my grip, I tighten my hold and pull her toward me. “Will ya do me a kindness? Don’t fuck with me, Babydoll,” I warn, eyeing her closely. “Ya won’t like the consequences if ya do.”
“Let me go,” she hisses angrily, fruitlessly trying to break free.
Why isn’t she afraid of me like everyone else? It’s time that changes.
With a cocky grin, I bend low, completely ignoring her personal space. “Ye may be able to fool others with yer shy act,” I hum, slowly running my thumb along her bottom lip and leveling her with a scowl. “But I see ya for what you are. Yer a thief, and ya stole from the wrong lad. Well, good luck with that ’cause I’m huntin’ ya, wee doll.”
And only then do I let her go.
She’s shaking, but I’m unsure if it’s from fear or rage, and that just excites me all the more.
We stare at one another, and the static between us is so toxic I can barely breathe. But I stand tall, not letting on what being in her presence does to me.
She’s out the door fairly lively, as she’s not thick—she knows I meant what I said.
Darcy turns toward me, where I smile, pretending my heart isn’t beating faster than it has ever beaten before. It’s the most confusing of emotions because in one heartbeat, I want to hurt Babydoll, but in the next, all I want to do is press her body against mine and steal her warmth like I did last night.
Fair play to her because she’s the first person to ever provoke this in me.
“Bout ye, Puck,” Darcy says, kissing my cheek and reminding me where I am.
“Dead-on,” I reply, subtly moving away from her, unlike with Babydoll, who I couldn’t get close enough to. I’m up to high doh from our encounter.
“I thought ye’d come last night with the boys,” she says, lowering her voice so her da doesn’t hear.
“I was busy,” I vaguely reply, noticing our fathers happily overlooking our exchange. Is Patrick all for this, too?
“No bother.” She smiles, and I suddenly feel unsettled. “Do ya think then when yer not busy…we could go out to the pictures or maybe a swall?”
“Why d’ya say that for?” I ask quickly, confused.
“Why not?” she counters with a grin.
“’Cause a lovely wee bird like yerself doesn’t want to go out with someone like me. I’m sure ya have lots of other fellas, like Rory, who would be happy to take ya.”
Darcy stands on her toes to whisper into my ear, “I don’t want another fella. I want you.”
I pull away, stunned. “Are ye havin’ a laugh?”
She brushes a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “No, I’m not. I like ya, Puck Kelly.”
Right, this has turned to shite in a matter of seconds.
Before I can tell her that’llneverhappen, Patrick and my da come over, smiling happily. But they don’t know their arses from their elbows if they think this is happening. However, as Darcy shifts closer to me, not at all deterred by my obvious rejection, I realize this is a lot worse than I thought.
