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“The trinity, aye.” I nod, enjoying the conversation.
None of my brothers want to talk about God or Jesus. Like if we say their name, they’ll notice we’re murderers and punish us.
Katya’s eyes light up, and it’s clear she doesn’t know about my past. “Aye. What is that? You say it a lot.”
“Aye? It’s Irish slang. It means yes.”
“Aye,” she chirps.
Where did this girl get her courage? No one fucking talks to me. This is the second time, and she’s got me gooey all over again.
But why? Whyher?She’s pretty. Very pretty. I don’t dwell on the importance of beauty the way my brothers do. Yet, something deep down in my gut has been off since I saw her dance in that gazebo.
This siren calling of hers sucks me in again. The tingling down my spine and the tightness in my throat knock me sideways.
No…
I don’t want to feel like this for someone, let alone someone I can’t have. Her father would never give her to me. Moot point, though, because I refuse to take a wife.
Proving she’s not afraid of me, Katya ambles right up under my nose, not an ounce of hesitation in her steps. Exhaling a long breath, she says, “Actually, I’m glad I ran into you.”
“Why? Talk, little one.”
Warm brown eyes lock with mine again. Her sun-kissed skin hints of warm blood in her veins from a culture that doesn’t thrive on death like her father’s. Curiosity burns me where she got those sculpted cheekbones and a long, slender nose.
She may be invisible, as far as being illegitimate, but she’s three dimensional to me. Goodness shines from every angle. She’s the polar opposite of me, and what I stand for. Yet, her aura reminds me there’s a heart beating in my chest.
“I have to talk to someone.” Her trusting gaze destroys me. “You’re smart. You…know things. How to…fix things.”
Sensing her panic, I pull her against me. If she runs, I’ll chase her. Catch her. But I’m so fired up from the mixture of emotions, I might hurt her. The feel of her body fires raw electricity through my veins. Aw, fuck. This shit isn’t supposed to happen to me.
“What, little one? Has someone hurt you?” Murderous rage fills me. It would hardly be a romantic gesture or suspicious for me to kill someone for her. It’s what I do for a living.
“No. I know we haven’t spoken since that night. But after that, I’ve always felt I can…trust you.” She keeps her gaze right on me.
With deep brown eyes like chocolate, I wonder if she tastes just as sweet.
I stop at the bakery most mornings after nights of sinning. At home, I make a pot of black coffee and down an entire box of pastries. Then I get some sleep and meet Riordan for a real breakfast at the diner. Wait… Not anymore. Now Riordan wakes up next to his wife.
So does Kieran.
Have I been lonely?
What the hell is happening? Perhaps I feel alone because I’m not as close to my brothers anymore. Kieran, Riordan, and I were Irish triplets, even though we were born two years apart. Da let Ma have a year with each kid. They had an arranged marriage, but all I saw was love.
It was just never for me. I wanted love from God and the church. I ruined that when I lost control of the rage that swims in the blood of every O’Rourke.
“Aye, you can trust me.” I pull Katya closer, and her mouth tips open, revealing an adorable little pink tongue. “What’s wrong, little one?”
Her mouth is sexy as fuck with luscious lips coated in shiny clear gloss. She’s the picture of natural beauty. “It’s my sister.”
I stiffen. “What about your sister?”
“I did something terrible.”
My body sears with heat. “Did you kill her?”
She snorts that damn adorable laugh again, and this time it hardens my cock to steel.
