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Considering the size of the butterflies in my belly—we’re talking giant, extraterrestrial butterflies—I’m not sure I won’t get queasy. There’s a lot riding on tonight. I don’t like it one bit, even if the plan is as solid as it’s going to be.
Declan’s fingers tighten around mine, reminding me there’s one thing which has nothing to do with the outcome of tonight.
Us.
We’re going to ride through this life together, no matter how tonight, or any other night goes.
I just want everything to go smoothly so that I can stop looking over my shoulder. It’s too close to Christmas for shit to keep going sideways. I want to be free to enjoy the holidays with the man I’ve fallen in love with. I want to make new memories.
I’d rather my biggest worry be meeting Declan’s sister, who he adores, and not dodging the angry expectations of my family and Cillian Murphy. No thanks, I’ve really had enough of the cloak and dagger.
The elevator doors close behind us in Emerald and my shoulders sag. Declan is right there, pulling me to him until my back is against his chest and I’m surrounded by his warmth. It’s soothing, which is what I need, but it also turns me the fuck on.
Which is not exactly what I need.
Okay, maybe it is a little bit.
I wouldn’t mind taking the edge off. If it happens to be with an orgasm, how could I really refuse?
After I told Declan the entire truth, I braced for the blow. I didn’t think the man would hit me, don’t misunderstand. The metaphorical blow.
I expected his anger, which would have been more than justified. I expected foul words and the demand for reparations. I expected consequences.
I did not expect to be fucked until I couldn’t breathe and for him to tell me he loves me. I certainly wasn’t prepared for his anger to be hiding a chasm of hurt because I didn’t put my trust in him.
Declan McCarthy is a giant lucky four-leaf clover suit wearing teddy bear. Not that you would know it to look at him now. His jaw is clenched, only highlighting how sharp it is, but I know the feel of it and his beard under my fingertips. His hair is slicked back, but I know how soft it is. His eyes are intense and focused, but I know how they can be filled with so much love.
Declan continues to defy my expectations and the assumptions people make about him. I know I’m a lucky woman to be the one he trusts to let in.
After he punished me with orgasms—quite the punishment—and our confessions of love on his office couch, I didn’t want to move, but I knew I would need to. Declan rumbled in my ear, “Get dressed,mo rós beag. We need to plan which means bringing in Conor. I don’t want to have to kill my best friend for seeing you naked.”
I tensed in his arms, remembering just how much the man who Declan trusts to have his back didn’t like me.
Declan kissed my temple, urging me without words to spill the truth. Considering I had just told him about my feelings for him while acknowledging his claim on my entire being, I knew there would be no skirting around the issue.
“I don’t think Conor is my biggest fan,” I sighed.
He snarled, “Did he fucking say something?”
“No,” I was quick to try and smooth my man’s ruffled feathers, “nothing like that. He just seems,” I paused, trying to find the best way to explain while also protecting Conor, “wary of me. I think it has more to do with protecting you than anything else, honestly.”
Declan made a humming sound and I let his warmth soak into me for only a minute more before I got up and got dressed. I tried not to watch as the most powerful man in Boston got dressed as well. Because it was a crime to cover up any part of his body.
When we were presentable, Declan called Conor to the backroom. He also told Conor to tell Sean I quit on the way by. My mouth fell open as I gaped at the man who unilaterally decided I was going to quit. When the pub was busy. When I had agreed to work.
“Declan,” I hissed, “you can’t quit my job for me.”
He shrugged one shoulder and bit his lip like he was trying to stop himself from smirking. I wanted to smack him, but there was a knock on the door before I could.
“Come in,” Declan barked, and I wanted to smack him for a new reason.
Gone was the man who confessed his love. Gone was the man with kindness dancing in his eyes. In front of Conor, I watched my man transform into the badass head of the Irish mob I always knew he was. I just hadn’t seen it in all its technicolor brilliance.
Declan was straight to the point in explaining what I had told him. I watched Conor the whole time, trying to get a read on him. He could have thought I was the last person who should be with Declan, but he didn’t let it show on his face as he stood there and listened.
“Are you thinking about setting a trap?” Conor’s voice had a hint of amusement in it. When he glanced at me, it was clear how much he liked the thought of taking down everyone who put me in the position I found myself in while getting retribution for sticking their nose where it wasn’t needed.
“It’s almost too perfect not to,” Declan purred.
