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He takes it, his expression hard as granite.
With no further conversation, we leave the surgery center, though Eoghan continues holding my hand.
When he helps me into the Wagoneer, I stop and say, “I’m sorry. And don’t tell me I can’t say I’m sorry. I’m not perfect, Eoghan.”
Leaning on the door, he grumbles, “I clearly haven’t done a good job convincing you that you are.”
“It’s just that we’re so different. Our lives are worlds apart. I’ve only known you a few weeks. I’ve never been in a relationship, let alone one so intense, and I’m scared.”
He hugs me to end the conversation, the smell of his cologne hits differently because this feels more real.
“Neither have I, sparkles. My craziness is how I’m dealing with it. But I want you. I want us.” He holds my face. “Just nod if you want to try.”
Swallowing, I bow my head to him.
“Good.” He kisses my forehead. “Now let’s go home and drink like we’re two normal people handling a family crisis.”
“Normal,” I scoff because he’s a god. And a killer.
Eoghan starts a fire then opens a bottle of wine that was so expensive his credit card company sent him a link to approve the charge.
We sit on the sofa, and next I’m in his arms, his lips on my forehead.
His phone blew up on the way home, presumably from the line in the sand he drew with his family.
Because of me.
Calls and texts he ignored. Eventually, he turned off his phone.
For me.
The long day drained me, and when I begin to nod off, Eoghan catches my glass of wine before it tumbles from my hand. “Time for bed, love.”
Groggy, I push the knitted cover away, but I’m scooped up into Eoghan’s arms. “Stop it. I’m too heavy.”
“You insult me, sparkles. Do I look like I can’t lift…whatever the hell you weigh?” He easily carries me to the stairs.
Oh hell no.
But up we go.
I consider all those muscles in his arms, his back, his legs.
He carries me into my bedroom and sets me on my feet with a whack to my behind. “I can do a Tunnel to Towers run with you on my back.”
“What is that?”
He shakes his head smiling. “I’ll find a video and show you another time.”
Nodding, I head to the bathroom attached to my bedroom to start my evening routine, a fifteen-step skin ritual that starts with removing eye makeup and ends with several layers of lotion.
Eoghan watches every step from the doorway, leaning on the frame.
God, he’s so gorgeous.
When I put my hair up, he comes behind me and kisses the back of my neck. “This is what I’ve been waiting for.”
His hard cock pushes between my ass cheeks, and my heart skips a beat. A few women at book club brag about their husbands who are machines and want sex every night. I told myself they’re liars.
