Chapter 32
CHAPTER 32
MAEVE
“ T his place is awesome,” I declared, sitting back in my chair to give my stomach some room to stretch. “I’ve never eaten so much pasta in my life. It’s like I couldn’t stop. I was full but had to keep going regardless.”
I took a sip of my Coke, taking in the ambiance of the room for the hundredth time that night.
Candles flickered from every table, lighting up the glowing, crisp, white tablecloths. Classical music played softly, and the murmur of conversation filled the air.
Callum had been sweet, funny, and attentive and had gone out of his way to make sure we had the best first date ever.
Usually when I went to restaurants in New York, we ordered, ate, and got out. Everything was on a time limit, even the lingering staff, who checked their watches, getting ready to bus the table for the next party who were due in.
Here, it was the opposite.
Giovanni immediately came over and insisted we took our time savoring the wine he brought to the table. The appetizers took a while to come out, but not in a way that was annoying. It was just a laid-back place with an equally laid-back owner who wanted us to relax and enjoy our night.
Callum’s face softened as he studied the restaurant. “My da loved it here. It was the only place he’d go out to eat after he got sick.” Pain flashed across his face, but he quickly recovered and replaced it with a tight-lipped smile.
“Tell me,” I urged. “You don’t talk about your da much.”
“I know,” Callum mumbled. “It’s tough to speak about him sometimes. Me and Donovan talk now and again, but as time goes on, it seems to get harder to keep it together. People say time heals, but I’m working through some residual feelings, so it feels as raw now as it did then.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, the conversation I had with Maureen flicking through the back of my mind.
He smiled. “I think I resisted you for so long because he wanted you for me so badly.”
I laughed softly. “That’s understandable. We’ve all got a little rebellion in us. I know if Orla had put somebody under my nose, I would’ve run a mile just to spite her.”
“But not Paddy?” Callum asked. “He put me under your nose.”
“You were the exception,” I admitted.
“So were you.” Callum took my hand, his eyes lifting to mine. “I felt it, Maeve. It used to irritate me to hell when I’d try to talk to you, and you’d scuttle away and bury your nose in a book. You were the only girl who never fawned over me.”
“I was painfully shy,” I whispered.
“I know, but you were different from all the others even back then. I was annoyed by you because I desperately wanted to get to know you. The only reason I resisted the idea of marriage was because I thought you didn’t like me. Maybe deep down, I felt rejected.”
I covered his hand with mine. “You have to understand, you were Callum O’Shea, and I was Maeve, the frizzy-haired nerd. Why on earth would Callum O’Shea ever be interested in the likes of me?”
Fire flashed in his eyes. “Those bitches did a number on you.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But so did the rest of society. When a girl doesn’t fit a certain mold, she’s written off. I always knew my beauty was deeper than the surface. I’m happy you saw it, too.”
His forehead furrowed. “I’ve never fit a mold either. Da always wanted a certain type of son. Being the eldest, I was expected to be the strongest, the most obedient, the perfect firstborn. Whenever I wasn’t, I got punished.”
My heart clenched painfully at his words.
“Da gave me a few good beatings growing up,” he blurted out. “It cut me deep, Maeve.”
I squeezed his fingers, tears filling my eyes. “That wasn’t on you. The fault was all his. He was your father. His job was to guide and encourage you, not beat you down just for being a kid and doing kid stuff. It’s the same thing as Orla hitting me. There’s something broken in them, Callum, not us.”
Callum’s eyes locked on mine. “It made me internalize things. I don’t ask for help, and I don’t share my problems; I just deal because it’s how he taught me to be. It’s what he beat into me.”
“Oh, Callum.” I blinked back my tears. “I can understand that.”
“I’m not screwed up by it,” he stated emphatically. “But it affected the way I deal with things. I find it hard to admit when I’m wrong and when I’ve fucked up, but it still doesn’t excuse what I did.” He upturned his hand and intertwined our fingers. “Sorry I hurt you, wife. I’m trying to do better.”
“I know,” I assured him. “Thank you for trusting me with all this.”
His lips tipped up and he nodded to my cleared plate. “You want another?”
My heart flipped. “Another dessert? You just became my dream man. Thank you, but no. I couldn’t eat another thing.”
He lifted his hand, signaling to the waiter for the check.
“Thank you for a lovely date, Callum,” I whispered.
He lifted my knuckles to his mouth and kissed them. “Thank you for coming. I had the best time with you.”
He watched the waiter place the bill on the table before he released my hand and went into his back pocket for his wallet.
“You wanna go halves?” I asked.
“You wanna shut your mouth?” he bit back.
I laughed. “Okay.”
“Jesus, woman,” he muttered, dropping his credit card on the table. “I’ll pop a fucking vein if you ask me that shit again.”
“No need to be so alpha about it,” I sassed.
Callum placed some bills on the table and stood. “Let’s get you home before you say something else to piss me off.” He took my coat from the back of my chair, helped me up, and slipped it over my shoulders. Then, pulling my hair from my collar, he leaned down to kiss the side of my neck.
A delicious shiver went through me.
Callum took my hand and led me toward the doors, saying goodbye to Giovanni and a couple of other people he knew as we left. His arm slid across my shoulders, and we started for the apartment.
“You cold?” he asked.
“No,” I replied, and although it was late on a chilly February night, I really wasn’t. My husband resembled a furnace with the amount of heat he radiated. I was never cold when he had his arm wrapped around my shoulders and he pressed against his body.
I’d missed it, and not just when we walked together. I’d missed it curled up against him on the couch, reading or watching TV, and I’d missed it in bed, too. I’d missed him coming into the distillery, lifting my ass onto the table, curling his hand over my hip, and kissing me stupid, and I’d missed hanging out in the bar watching him banter with Donovan and his friends.
I just missed him.
The first drop of rain landed as he walked me down the side of the bar to the back door.
“Good timing,” he muttered. “Looks like it’s gonna bucket down.”
I poked my key in the lock. “You go. If you run, you won’t get caught in the downpour.”
Callum’s expression fell. He’d wanted to come up; I kinda knew there was an expectation of it. The problem was, if he did, I knew I wouldn’t want him to leave. It wasn’t that I still held a grudge or that he hadn’t shown me he was finally taking our marriage seriously. I knew he was trying to do better.
The fact was, he terrified me.
Kicking Callum out of the apartment and out of my life had been traumatic. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I couldn’t think straight, and I was sad all the time. Letting him back in was proving to be just as traumatic because what if it went wrong for a second time? I wasn’t sure I’d survive it intact.
When everything was said and done, it all came down to trust again, and I didn’t know if I was there yet.
Callum’s strong hand turned me to face him, and he leaned down to kiss my forehead. “Goodnight, baby. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
My eyes widened because I’d forgotten about it. I’d been holed up in the distillery all day. “Damn, that’s why Giovanni’s was so busy.” My eyes lifted to meet Callum’s. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I just want a kiss.” He took a step closer. One hand slid into my hair and angled my chin up. His neck bent, and he touched his mouth to mine before pulling away.
Heat pooled between my legs, and I blinked up at my husband with a dazed expression.
His forehead rested on mine. “Goodnight, wife.”
“Hmm,” I murmured, smiling dreamily as he turned me around and gently pushed me through the door.
“You’ll get wet,” he warned me.
Already am.
“Lock the doors behind you,” he ordered. “I’ll bring you coffee tomorrow.”
I sent him a soft smile. “Goodnight,” I murmured, then I floated inside, locked the door, and proceeded to float up the stairs to let myself into the apartment, all the while wondering to myself if just one little make-out session would really hurt. I mean, he did buy me dinner, and it was Valentine’s Day.
My little giggle faltered in my throat when I noticed a light coming from the open door of the spare room.
I was sure it wasn’t on when I left. I hadn’t been inside that room all that day. I slept in Callum’s bed every night just so I could inhale his gorgeous, manly scent.
Suddenly nervous, I moved over to the door, my stomach clenching at the thought of what I might find.
What if somebody had broken in?
Mary, mother of Jesus, what if it was a serial killer?
That would be just my luck; I get taken out for a nice dinner on Valentine’s—for the first time ever, may I add—and I end up coming home and getting cut into pieces by a fucking serial killer .
Ugh.
What utter shite.
Slowly, I pushed the door open, just so I could take the serial killer by surprise, and I stopped dead, my jaw hitting the floor at the sight before me.
I’d walked into my own personal version of heaven on Earth.
The bed, dresser, and all the furniture had been moved out, and, in its place, sat a big, plush, L-shaped couch that took up the entire corner of the room. A giant, comfortable-looking cuddle chair that matched the sofa rested on the opposite side of the room with a coffee table and a spot lamp beside it. The walls had been painted a soft, relaxing cream color, and plush rugs were strewn across the wooden floor to bring everything together.
It was beautiful, but what took my breath away was that an entire wall had been covered in a variety of shelves where all my new books and box sets were carefully arranged.
Stunned, I looked around, taking everything in.
It was the coziest reading nook slash personal library I’d ever seen. I’d shown Callum pictures on social media and in magazines of the kind of room I’d have liked one day, but I always imagined it would be something to aspire to. This room was something else. It was like somebody had drilled into my brain to find out what my best-ever gift in the world would be and then made it happen.
It. Was. Awesome!
My gaze fell on a note propped up against the lamp on the side table with my husband’s carefree scrawl across it. I lunged toward it, curious as to what it would say. Ripping it open impatiently, I pulled out the card, and my heart melted to goo when my eyes fell upon the words.
No book and no quote this time.
It’s just me telling my wife and the love of my soul...
Buaileann mo chro? duit.
My heart beats for you.
A small sob escaped my throat as something sparked back to life inside me.
I didn’t know if it was the surprise of the wonderful room or just the simple beauty of the words my husband had written, but the myriad of emotions I felt at that moment filled my heart and soul.
What else was I waiting for Callum to prove?
He clearly loved me, he obviously respected me, and he was trying to do better. My husband had bared his soul and confessed his deepest, darkest fears. Callum was doing everything I’d asked of him, and I didn’t want to punish him anymore by not being with him. I was only punishing myself.
Turning, I exited the room and sprinted through the hallway to race down the stairs. Wrenching the door open, I hoofed it across the courtyard and up the side of the bar onto Main Street.
Somebody called my name—Donovan maybe—but I was so focused on getting to my destination that it hardly registered.
Frantically, I stared down the street, my eyes searching for my husband. That was when the heavens opened, and rain began to teem down on me.
“Callum!” I yelled down the pitch-black, rain-filled street.
Silence.
“Maeve?” Donovan demanded from behind me. “What are you doing?”
“I need to find Callum,” I cried, my heart hammering so hard that I felt it throbbing in my ears.
“Get inside,” my brother-in-law ordered. “You’ll catch your death.”
“No,” I yelled through the sound of the rain beating into the ground. “I need my husband.”
With my body poised and ready, I turned toward the gym and began to run.
The thud of my footsteps pounded off the concrete path that led up Main Street. High heels slapping on concrete echoed along with my frantic breaths. My heart raced, adrenaline making the blood roar in my ears. I pumped my arms as hard as I could, adding momentum to my sprint.
I caught a flash of movement ahead, and my heart leaped into my throat. “Callum!” I screeched, my sprint slowing as I checked for cars before racing across the street. “Stop!”
“Maeve?” I heard him bellow.
“Callum!” I yelled back. “Slow down.”
The flash of movement turned into a big, hulking shadow, and then, finally, my husband came into full view. My feet faltered as suddenly, my Usain Bolt sprint caught up with me and my hand went to my side where a sharp pain took my breath away.
“You okay?” Callum demanded, reaching out to catch hold of me as I almost collapsed. “Baby. What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
My breath sawed in and out. “I’ve got a stitch,” I croaked, trying to suck air into my lungs. “Fecking hurts.”
Callum’s eyes rounded, his expression turning incredulous. “Why are you running around fucking Hambleton like you’re running from the law? Jesus, you could’ve fallen arse over tit and hurt yourself.”
I gestured back toward the bar, trying to catch my breath. “My room. It’s grand. Thank you.”
“Jesus, Maeve.” He let out a sexy growl. “You’re a fucking nut.”
I leaped at my husband and fused my mouth to his in a hot, wet kiss.
He emitted another growl, and then his hands were on my ass, tugging me into his body until we were molded together. His lips were soft, and his breath minty. Nobody made me feel the way Callum O’Shea did, and I couldn’t get enough of him.
My husband set my soul alight.
I kissed him harder, and I felt my nipples pebble. A whimper left my throat as his thick, hard cock dug into my lower belly. My mind blanked. All I could feel was Callum’s tongue pressing against mine. His fresh laundry scent filled my senses, and my pussy clenched with need for my gorgeous husband.
He broke the kiss. “Baby,” he rasped, rain teeming down on us while our shallow breaths mingled together.
“Come home,” I whispered. “Please.”
His eyes visibly misted, and for a second, I thought he’d lose it, but instead, he croaked, “Are you sure?”
I beamed up at him. “A thousand percent. Come home, Callum.”
Something swirled between us, a feeling that settled inside my belly and made me warm. My heart fluttered with love for this complicated but kind and generous man.
I’d been lost without Callum, but I was glad I got the time to find my strength again. It wasn’t that I excused what he did, but he’d learned from it and grown as a person and a husband. All he’d done since we’d been apart was to try to show me how much he loved me and wanted to change.
“I love you, Maeve,” he whispered against my mouth.
My heart filled with emotion, and I whispered back, “I love you too.”
My arms snaked instinctively around my husband’s neck, and I pulled him closer, molding my body to his. The second we’d gotten home, he pulled me into the shower and washed the rain and the cold from our bodies. After making me come with his fingers, he washed me clean, dried me off, and took me to bed.
Callum touched his mouth to the skin of my jaw, peppering kisses down my throat.
I squeezed my eyes closed as his hand began to trail a descent until he reached my breast and gently pulled at my nipple. A shiver ran down my spine as his lips sucked gently on my neck. Wet pooled between my thighs, making me think I was about to explode.
His voice was a rumble in his chest. “I wanna eat.”
I bit back a moan, loving Callum’s dirty mouth, and my pussy wept at how empty it felt without his cock inside me.
Blue eyes, darkening with desire, caught mine, and our gazes locked.
My heart jolted at the way he looked at me like I was his entire world.
“Love you, wife,” he said huskily. Then, his strong palm pressed against my sternum, pushing me back on the bed.
My heart rate sped up.
Callum nudged my legs apart. The pleasure-pain from his fingers digging into my skin made my thighs ache with need.
He moved to his knees, staring at my exposed pussy. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he rasped, fisting his cock. “Gonna eat till I’m satisfied, then fill you with my cock.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered, heat licking at my belly.
He leaned down until his face was level with my cunt, then his hands slid under my thighs, and he held me to him and blew hard.
Warm breath skated over my clit, and I moaned. Then suddenly, his mouth was on me. Callum’s mouth seemed to be everywhere, his tongue flicking my clit then moving to spear my core. I whimpered and then cried out as he began to fuck me with his thick finger before adding another.
“Come in my mouth,” he growled. “Give it to me, Maeve.”
I went up on my elbows and looked down, watching my husband feast on me. His stubble grazed my sensitive skin, and I couldn’t help my hips from thrusting against his mouth as my orgasm started to build.
His fingers fucked me deep and fast, and his lips sucked gently on my clit.
My hips twisted, and my walls clenched. Then I threw my head back and let out a loud cry as my orgasm hit me like a juggernaut.
My climax ripped through me, making my entire body buck and jerk uncontrollably. Callum pressed down on my belly, holding me in place as he ate me for what felt like forever until, eventually, my orgasm slowly faded, and I floated back to earth.
He kissed the inside of my thighs. “Good little wifey.” He crawled up my back until we spooned, sliding his hand under my knee to lift it up so he could gain access. I felt pressure when he slid his cock through my wetness before positioning himself and thrusting inside me to the root.
I cried out with pleasure.
“Jesus Christ,” he growled, sweeping my hair to one side and kissing the back of my neck. “Love your hot little pussy.” His fingers slid to my clit, and he began to circle it while he fucked me hard from behind.
Everything pulsed. “Please don’t stop,” I begged, my voice a whisper as warm lips hit my neck, gently pulling at my skin and leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.
Callum moved his cock inside me with hard, rhythmic strokes. I hissed at the pleasure-pain of his big dick stretching me. My pussy clenched, and he let out a deep moan while he shoved his face into my neck and began to pound harder.
“Fuck, Maeve. You gotta come.” Callum lifted my leg higher and rutted into me while pressing down hard on my clit with his thumb. “Baby. I can’t hold back.”
The feel of his cock deep inside and the pressure from his thumb made my pussy contract again. My head writhed from side to side as my nerve endings exploded. I whimpered with pleasure as my body arched until it was almost contorted, and my orgasm hit me from out of nowhere.
Callum’s groans indicated he was there, too, and I moaned as I felt his cum warm me from the inside. He buried his face in my hair as his orgasm hit. “Jesus, Maeve.” His hips thrust uncontrollably until, eventually, they began to circle and slow before my husband’s grunts turned into a satiated hum. He sighed into my hair and wrapped his arm around my waist while he languidly slid his cock in and out, milking the last of his cum.
“Love you,” I whispered, my eyes already heavy after my two earth-shattering orgasms.
“Love you, wife,” he replied softly.
My bones were weightless, and the warmth of our bed made my eyes droop.
A satisfied smile washed across my lips, and I began to drift off to sleep, with a fresh laundry scent enveloping me and my husband’s hand covering my heart, keeping it safe.