Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
It was one of the rare moments when they had been. It was in the time firmly planted before. Before Carrigan started shrinking under the pressure of a future she didn’t want. Before the shadows appeared in Sloan’s eyes and she stopped talking almost completely. Before Cillian’s attitude got so out of control that he was damn near unbearable.
Before Aiden turned into Seamus O’Malley 2.0.
He pushed the beer aside and set the various vegetables in the fridge. “We were.” Past tense. Always past tense.
“Sometimes I wish…” She set the picture back onto the bookshelf and squared her shoulders, seeming to force herself to finish the thought. “Sometimes I wish I had more siblings. Ronan and I weren’t as close in recent years as we were growing up, but his loss was still earthshattering.”
And now she was alone. He shut the fridge and tried to picture life without his siblings. Over the years he’d loved them and damn near hated them to varying degrees, but he’d always had the comfort of their being there. He couldn’t imagine how deep the loss would go if something ever happened to any of them.
Yet another reason to put a stop to this war.
“I’m sorry about your brother.” He crossed over to her and did what he’d wanted to do ever since he saw her standing there on the sidewalk. He pulled her into his arms, something settling in his chest as he rested his chin on the top of her head.
“Sometimes I’m so angry at him. How could he be so stupid to drink and drive when we have half a dozen men ready and waiting to take us where we need to go if the situation calls for it?” A shudder worked its way through her body. “That makes me sound like a horrible person, doesn’t it?”
“No.” He smoothed his hand over her hair. “Death is bad enough when it’s unavoidable. It’s hard not to resent someone for bringing it to your door.”
“Yeah.” She sounded strange, choked up and rigid, but he kept holding her until she relaxed against him. “I’m sorry. It’s been a trying few days.”
“For me, too. It doesn’t seem to matter what I do, or what arguments I come up with—everyone is hell-bent on moving this war forward.” Which had only solidified his determination to use the identity of Brendan’s killer to leverage the Hallorans to back off. If they did, then the O’Malleys and Sheridans would be forced to do the same, since things hadn’t escalated to a point where they couldn’t take it back. He just had to pin James down for a meeting and convince him that vengeance would have to be enough to make his father happy.
“Teague…” His name sounded so damn sweet coming from her lips, somewhere halfway between a sigh and a plea. Her hands coasted up his back on either side of his spine.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Kiss me instead?”
His body responded even as his mind hesitated. That first night, she’d kissed him to distract him from questioning her about the bruises on her neck. On the surface, it didn’t seem like she was doing the same thing now, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that that was exactly what was happening. He kept his arms tense so she couldn’t wiggle out of them—not that she seemed to want distance between them, not when she kept up those distracting circles on his back, lightly dragging her nails over the thin fabric of his shirt. “Our problems aren’t going to go away just because we stop talking about them.”
“I know.” It was little more than a whisper. She tilted her head and pressed a kiss to his neck. “But I’m in danger of breaking under this stress if I can’t check out for a little while. Please, Teague, please help me check out.” She had to know what her saying his name did to him. There was no way she didn’t.
But still he resisted. “Angel, you’re making it fucking hard to do right by you.”
She laughed against his skin. “You don’t have a bed in this place?”
Fuck. He closed his eyes, but that only made it worse, his entire world narrowing down to the feel of her in his arms, warm and more than willing. She wanted him. He should be thrilled to figure that shit out. But she didn’t want him because she was so overwhelmed with feeling or desire or… anything except the need to “check out.” He’d had sex for a variety of reasons in the past—and some of those were pretty flimsy—but this was the first time it’d stung to be used for his cock.
He’d wanted more with Callie.
He tangled his fingers in her hair and used that hold to move her back so he could meet those baby blues. “I’ll help you stop thinking for a while, angel, but we’re doing it on my terms.” She opened her mouth, but he talked right over whatever argument she had ready. “I’ll give you everything you need and more—but we’re not fucking tonight.” It felt wrong to term it that way, but if he gave in tonight, that’s exactly what it would be. Fucking. He’d barely known this woman a week, and he already knew that he wasn’t going to be happy with just sex.