Page 27 of Bad to the Bone


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She winks at me, turning back to the dishwasher. I stay in the doorway, blinking in surprise. Did the lass make a joke about my Irish Reaper reputation? Sometimes I’m not sure what to make of Mellie.

“I actually have been sleeping better. Thanks for asking.” Mellie tips her head to the side, facing the dishwasher, her back to me.

I know she’s been sleeping better because she slept quite peacefully when I was in her apartment the other night.

I also finally managed to fix her fucking leaky pipe under her kitchen sink. I know it’s been pissing her the fuck off, so hopefully, she won’t have to worry about it anymore.

Mellie turns, leaning against the countertop, her blue eyes fixed on mine. “Are you off bodyguard duties then?”

I scratch the back of my head. “I’m not sure, lass.”

Mellie’s eyebrows raise, her arms crossing over her chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not sure of anything.”

I’m not sure of a lot of things –most of them starting and ending with the lovely lass in front of me. I mirror her stance, propping my shoulder against the doorframe.

“There was a car accident last night.”

Mellie starts in surprise, shoving away from the dishwasher, closing the space between us quickly, her hands fluttering around my torso, though they don’t touch me.

“Are you okay?”

My eyebrows shoot up. “I wasn’t in the car, lass.”

“Oh.” Mellie takes a deep breath, stepping back, schooling her face into a neutral expression. “Who was?”

“Connor. Paddy. Seamus’s wife, Tiggy.”

Her breath sucks in. She turns quickly, opening the dishwasher, steam swirling around as she moves the crate of glasses out.

“So you’re off bodyguard duties while she’s in the hospital? Are Connor and Paddy okay?”

Crossing to her, I brush her hands away from the black plastic crate as I pick up the glasses.

“Everyone is fine. Tiggy broke some fingers. I’m not sure about bodyguard duties because Seamus wants Tiggy close.”

Mellie’s eyes dart over to me, a smirk crossing her face. I stare at her, not sure what her expression means.

“What, lass?”

Mellie rolls her eyes. “You weren’t here last night. There was a kiss. Like…akiss.”

I have no idea what the lass means. “A kiss?”

“Yes. Seamus Fitzpatrick planted a big ole wet one on his wife in the middle of the VIP room. I think some jaws got sprained from the shock.”

I stumble to a halt, staring at Mellie in shock. I’ve known Seamus Fitzpatrick for almost fifteen years. I’ve never seen the man kiss a lass before.

“Yeah.” Mellie nods slowly, her eyes wide. “A man doesn’t kiss a woman like that if he doesn’t mean it. No wonder he wants her close.”

I don’t get to speak with Mellie anymore because the door to the VIP room opens, and her little blonde stripper friend breezes through.

“Hey, girl,” she laughs, bumping Mellie’s hip with her own. She nods sharply to me. I nod stiffly back, striding through the still swinging door to deposit the glasses at the bar from Mellie. I should check in with Connor upstairs.

Mellie

Fiona disappears into the kitchenette, probably in search of coffee. She mentioned she couldn’t afford creamer the other day, and they keep the real stuff here. I don’t blame her for getting here early for a cup.

Niall isn’t anywhere to be seen when I get out into the VIP room. I almost pout with disappointment. Of course he’s not hanging around to gossip with me. Can you imagine?

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