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Chapter Eighteen
RONAN
It was almost midnight by the time I got home last night. Sean had another meeting with Gianni Manchetti about this Italian splinter cell that Liam keeps getting himself jumped by.
He’s not the only one. Paddy Ryan andOisinMurphy got jumped last week. Oisin walked away with a broken hand and a stab wound. Paddy wasn’t so lucky. He’s still in hospital with significant internal bleeding. The bastards ran him over with an SUV. Sick fucks.
When I blink awake, I’m alone in the bed, the sheets tangled around my waist. Fiona’s lemon and roses scent is on the pillow beside me, but the bed is cool to touch, so she’s been awake a while. Groaning and scrubbing my face, I crawl out of bed, heading to a long, hot shower to wake me up properly.
When I climb out of the shower, I smirk at the girly products neatly stacked to the left of the vanity basin. A hairdryer, hairbrush, makeup, moisturizer – all that shite.
Fiona’s toothbrush sits next to mine in the holder. Strolling back into the bedroom, I duck into the walk-in robe to grab some clothes and smirk again at all the clothes the girls dropped off for Fiona, hanging and filling half the space. Half the drawers are filled with her clothes as well.
I notice other things when I wander out of the bedroom to the kitchen, searching for coffee. A pretty vase has appeared on the sideboard off the entranceway, and Fiona puts fresh flowers in it every few days. In the kitchen, a colorfully patterned fruit bowl now sits beside the sink on the kitchen island, and in the corner are some weird-shaped glass bottles.
I don’t think they have anything in them. I think she got them to look nice. I haven’t mentioned anything to Fiona because I don’t want to scare her off when she buys things to make the condo half hers.
Fiona is making coffee when I slide onto the stool at the kitchen island. It’s probably best to have something between us when I broach this subject. I’ve been avoiding it, but she’s moving easily, and it’s time.
I clear my throat, and she throws a glorious smile over her shoulder, quickly snagging a second mug and making me a coffee.
While she does, I take a moment to let my eyes greedily drink in the sight of her in my kitchen, acting like she belongs here. Apart from the fact that the skin on her palm is shiny, you can’t even tell she was injured. And her feet seem pretty much completely healed.
Finally, she turns around, sliding my coffee across the countertop.
“Thanks. We need to discuss ye returning to work,leannán.”
Fiona nods, looking like she’s given this topic some thought.
“My hand is pretty much healed, and my feet are completely fine,” she interjects eagerly, and I grit my teeth, taking a deep breath and a plunge.
“Have ye ever thought about bartending work instead of stripping?”
“Finally actually using our words, are we?” she snorts. I blink at her in surprise.
“Lass?”
Fiona giggles – fuckinggiggles –walking around the counter and dropping onto the stool beside me. Spinning to face me, she tips her head to the side and smirks.
“I’ve been wondering if you would ever come out and say it or if we’d be stuck in our stubborn war forever.”
Completely baffled and very confused, I continue to blink at her. “I don’t know what ye mean,leannán.”
Fiona laughs, taking a sip of her coffee. “You know, Mellie once offered me waitressing shifts when I was worried I wouldn’t make rent, and she looked exactly like you when I refused.”
I stare at her. She fuckingrefusedwaitressing shifts, even though she couldn’t make rent? Jesusfuck, the lass has no self-preservation.
“Why would ye refuse a shift if ye couldn’t make rent?”
“Because you neverspoketo me andtoldme that you didn’t want me to be a stripper,” she says with a shrug like it’s the most obvious and simple thing in the world.
I gape at her, my coffee forgotten. “So, if I had come to ye a year ago and told ye I didn’t want ye to be a stripper… ye would have taken waitressing shifts?”
Fiona purses her lips, tipping her head from side to side. “Probably not.”
I’m even more confused. Fiona takes one look at my face and sighs, rolling her eyes.
“I wanted to hearwhyyou didn’t want me to be a stripper….” she explains.
