Rowan (The Irish Wolves Book 3)

Chapter 11

Matilda was waiting for her in the living room where Rowan worked on the armoire. It had taken her a bit to get her emotions under control from the Hugh skirmish. A shower and comfy pajamas had done wonders, as did the refreshment table. A bottle of Glenmorangie 25 set on the sideboard for Rowan. The luxe copper label of Matilda”s Absolut Elyx made a showy statement beside it, and a pitcher of ice-cold lemon water finished the trio. She explained that lemon water was so they could pretend they were health conscious while pickling their livers.

An hour passed in companionable silence. Rowan finished the last side panel in a cobalt fabric that had tiny white flowers sprinkled on the surface. She gave it a puffy quilted look using the batting she’d picked up from the hobby store earlier.

Once that was finished, Rowan started adjusting this bit and that bauble. Tilting photographs until they were perfect. Securing a Christmas ornament that Hugh had made his mother in the second grade. Another hour passed before she made the last paint touch-up. Rowan sat back on her heels to admire her work.

While she fiddled with one last wire, she told Matilda, “The boutique is definitely ahead of schedule if you can believe it. Two of the contractors are working all weekend because they have other jobs they want to get to, which works great for my client and for me. It’s going to be stunning when it’s finished. I took a ton of before pictures. The after pictures will make a hell of an impression on our website. River is dying to get her hands on them.” Rowan laughed.

Her tech-savvy sister lived for website updates, posts, and generating interest in their designs on social media. Eventually, River would have to slow down as her pregnancy progresses, as Raven did, which would mean more work for Raven and Rowan. A new niece or nephew was so worth it, though.

“I’m thrilled because that means I can wrap things up faster than I initially planned and get home to my precious Daniel,” she laughed. “Oh, and my sisters too.”

Raven had asked her and River once if they minded her son being named after their late father. Rowan had understood her hesitation. Thinking about a name and saying that name out loud were two very different things. However, they all agreed that it would have been an honor for their dad. He would have been thrilled, which meant his daughters were thrilled.

“Your sweet nephew will be so happy to have his Auntie back. After all that Delton business and traveling for so many months, I’d like to take a moment to relax here at home, but I plan to move to my apartment in Dublin by mid-September. That way, I can attend River’s baby shower and have a few weeks to help get anything else Patrick and your sister might need before the birth. Diana will come by the end of October. She told me her plans this afternoon.

“What is going on that wall?” Matilda walked up behind Rowan with a fresh glass of lemon water and pointed to the blue cloth with its sprinkling of flowers. “It’s a lovely pattern.”

Matilda had a very similar aesthetic to her older sister, River. Simple lines with hints of blue, and Rowan found it had been easy to create the pleasing palette for the armoire.

“That,” Rowan smiled as she accepted the glass, “Is a space for great-grandchildren. I used the batting to make it easy for you to tack pictures. I even bought pretty jewel-tipped tacks for you. The loose wire is so you can use tiny clips to hang things. Like a laundry clothesline,” Rowan explained.

“You’ve got to stop making me so emotional all the time, or I’ll have to kick you out,” Matilda laughed.

Rowan hopped up and went over to search through her ‘bags of bits,’ as her mother used to call the overflow from her daughters’ projects, and found the pins, tacks, and clips. She dug out a mini clothespin and handed it to Matilda, along with a picture of her holding her great-grandson, Daniel.

“You hang the first one. I’m sure this space will fill up sooner than you think, but the great thing is you can change things around because it isn’t permanent,” Rowan explained.

“Oh, lovely. I would have never thought of adding something for new memories. Very clever, young lady,” Matilda gleamed as she hung the first picture. “I wish Jon was here to see what you’ve done.” Matilda kept her back to Rowan, staring at the memoryscape before her, running her hand around the wedding painting’s frame.

“I miss you, my love,” she whispered. “So damn much.”

Rowan turned away quickly, surreptitiously dabbing her eyes while she picked up and set down a glue gun and bottle of paint. She turned around, though, when Matilda spoke.

“I’m unsure about going to dinner with Owen. I keep wondering what Jon would think.”

Rowan leaned her behind against the table’s top and regarded the older woman, who had turned around to regard Rowan in turn. “First, I’d like to point out that the goal is to enjoy good company. Owen is certainly that. We both know if he wasn’t, his sister would have locked him away years ago in an asylum for the perpetually dull.” Matilda snorted in amusement at Rowan’s assessment of her best friend.

“Second, I’d like to remind you that my grandmother just got married. You both were lucky to have known what being truly in love feels like. Is it any wonder you might want something like that again? Nan was afraid too, you know. She thought of it like…like cheating, I guess. Except how is it cheating when the love that your husband bestowed upon you and that you bestowed on him is still honored? It isn’t lessened or forgotten.

“It’s a cherished memory. Always cherished. From what William has said, his father is extraordinarily nervous too. He loved his wife like you loved your husband. If you want my opinion, Owen might be seeking the same thing you are.”

“And what is that?” Matilda asked, taking a seat at the table.

“A friend. A companion to do fun things like charity dinners. To have a plus one that you enjoy talking the night away with.”

“Oh. Oh, I…yes, I think…that is right. I would like that.” Matilda sighed, like a ton of tension was lifted from her shoulders.

“Will had planned for the four of us to drive separately, but why don’t I text him that we would prefer to go together? I know he wouldn’t mind, and I certainly wouldn’t.” Rowan wasn’t lying either. Now that Hugh was in town, her budding romance with William seemed to be slipping through her fingers.

“I would prefer that, at least this first time, if you truly don’t mind,” Matilda admitted.

“I’ll text him now.” Honestly, it was a relief to have less alone time with Will until she sorted through her feelings for Hugh. Feelings that she could not, for her life, shake.

“What will you do about my son? And before you get mad at me for not telling you he was coming, the family decided to stay out of your business.”

Rowan paused in her texting to briefly squeeze her eyes closed. She may not be willing to show her anger to Matilda, but by God, her sisters would be hearing from her in the morning.

Rowan finished sending the text before answering. “What is there really to do about Hugh? He’s here. He has every right to be here. We have never dated. We aren’t currently dating. He’s simply doing what he’s always done.”

“Which is what?” Hugh’s mother asked.

“Circle me like a wolf. Mark his territory even though he never claims me. The normal. He doesn’t want me, Matilda, but your son doesn’t want anyone else to have me either.” Rowan groaned in impatience. “It’s frustrating.”

“I’m sure it is, and you’ve done amazing at moving on despite his confusing behavior. I will preface what I’m about to impart by letting you know that I think Will is a wonderful man, and I believe his intentions toward you could not be more honest—but—yes, I know, there is always a but.” She smiled, holding up her hand to stop Rowan from interrupting. “Hugh has had a bit of an epiphany. I will not break his trust, but…oh goodness,” Matilda patted her eyes with a bit of leftover silk fabric folded on the table, “I would ask that you at least, at some point, let him explain himself.”

Rowan looked at the painting she’d done of a smiling Hugh with his father. He used to know how to smile. “The only thing I can promise is that I’ll think about it.”

“So,I guess we’re keeping secrets from one another now?” Rowan asked Raven and River, completely furious with both of them for not telling her about Hugh. She was still in bed, having barely slept last night.

“I’m sorry, Row,” Raven spoke in a quiet voice.

“If it makes you less mad at us, Bran and Patrick agreed, and they didn’t tell Hugh you were in Oklahoma,” River said, ratting out her and Raven’s husbands.

Rowan heard a “Hey!” and a “What the hell, Riv?”

“River’s always been the biggest tattler,” Raven sighed, probably trying to get Rowan to laugh and lighten the tension.

It didn’t work, which was a shame since Rowan hated being at odds with her sisters. She’d thrown herself into finishing the armoire last night, knowing she couldn’t talk to her sisters until this morning because of the time. She only managed to sleep a handful of hours, thinking about what she was going to say to her sisters, but mostly about Hugh, damn him.

Her face burned when she pictured him opening her nightstand drawer. There were only two things to discover, neither of which she wanted him to find. A vibrator and a sketchbook.

A sketchbook of Hugh. She’d spent a year filling an entire book of the man. Every mood, every scowl. Part of the book was innocent. Family moments. When he looked at his sons with pride and love. Sitting at the bar, whiskey in hand. When he sat apart, loneliness dimming his eyes. When he held his grandson in his arms.

The second part…weren’t family moments. His body, its strength and power. Muscles rippling. Erect and virile. Rowan had drawn the shower scene from memory, fist gripping his length. Hugh standing over her lying in bed. His face when he came. Some were pure fantasy. She’d taken to sketching her hottest dreams the moment she woke, sweating and trembling with need.

Hugh had embedded himself in her body. Her mind kept trying to picture a different path, a different ending to her story, but every damn day, her imagination placed Hugh in every scenario, dream, want, or need. William Stanton was the first man that came close to changing her story.

When Rowan didn’t respond to her family’s antics, silence stretched uncomfortably. She could imagine her sisters giving each other panicked looks. She broke the silence by repeating her question.

“Are we keeping secrets? I’m not talking about small things. You both knew this wasn’t a small thing to me.” Rowan felt tears prick her eyes. Hugh was the opposite of a small thing. To her. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t at fault, that he’d never broken promises, but he was the instrument in which all of her hopes and dreams had been erased. Picking up the pieces and trying to put them in a different order was painful. Raven and River knew how painful it had been.

“Let me take Daniel, babe,” Rowan heard Bran say.

“Rowan,” Patrick started, “Bran and I will leave you guys alone now, but before we go, I want to tell you what Bran and I were thinking when we didn’t give you or Dad any warning. Dad isn’t just our father, he’s our best friend. And?—”

Bran cut him off to finish. “…he’s been upset and lonely for so long, we couldn’t take it anymore. It’s painful to see someone you love hurting.”

“If there was even a snowball’s chance in hell that this plan might work, the four of us were willing to take it. I imagine it’s been just as hard for your sisters to see you unhappy.” Pat finished.

Well, Rowan thought. Her brothers-in-law took the wind out of her sails. Tears slowly dribbled down her cheeks at the mess she and Hugh had made of everything.

“I…I’m sorry that—” Rowan began only for River to cut her off.

“Don’t you dare apologize because of what they said, it is the truth, but it doesn’t matter. We were wrong, and we hurt you when you’re already hurting.” River sounded furious with their part in all this, and Rowan hated that even more than them keeping secrets.

“No. I?—”

Raven cut her off this time. “I panicked when you left us. Damn it, Rowan. Not sleeping in the same bed or not living in the same house is one thing, but you left the country. For weeks! We were desperate, but I realize now I was selfish. I thought I knew what was best for you. I do want you to have your heart’s desire, and I was willing to be dishonest in the hopes of you getting it,” Raven finished with a hiccup and a sniff.

“I might as well tell you, Row, the four of us planned on surprising you in Tulsa in a few weeks to see if our plan worked, and if it had, we planned on gloating. That’s,” River was hiccupping and sniffing now too, “how big of pieces of shit your sisters have become in your absence.”

River’s obnoxious mouth finally managed to break through Rowan’s upset. She even felt her lips tip up in a small smile. How in the world could a person stay mad at those two? After all, Rowan had done her share of meddling. She’d tattled on Bran and Patrick more than once to Hugh, knowing he would always react. She’d also agreed to carry letters from Patrick and give them to River without consulting her sister and only telling Raven after the fact.

Rowan took a deep breath to clear her emotions from her throat. “Okay, you guys. Neither of you are pieces of shit. I recognize I’ve done my fair share of getting into your business. We’ve done this our whole lives with one sister or the other. Talked about what to do to help whichever of us was in trouble. And since I wasn’t there, you two concocted…whatever the hell this is.”

“Are we good?” River asked.

“You completely forgive us?” Raven asked for extra clarity.

“We’re good and you’re completely forgiven,” Rowan assured. “However, there is the situation with William, and I still want to see if there is potential for us.”

“How were we to guess that you’d have your tongue down the man’s throat after three lunch dates?” River demanded.

Rowan should not have texted them such a detailed account. But she’d walked into the boutique feeling all dreamy and wanted to share. It was an amazing kiss. Hubris Hugh never dared give into the temptation of sticking his tongue anywhere on or in her body!

The Byrne sisters were back in business. For them, forgiven really meant forgiven. Now it was all about damage control. “He and his father are picking Matilda and me up for a charity event at the Philbrook, the one I mentioned to you earlier in the week. That means, thank God, not as much alone time with Will. It’s inevitable, though, that he wants to be alone with me.”

“When do he and his dad head back to Houston?” River asked.

“Monday or Tuesday of next week, I believe. I also think he’ll ask me to visit him there.” Rowan cringed. She hadn’t told her sisters every part of their lunch date. Christ, was it only yesterday?

“That seems a little fast. He can’t expect you to drive all that way. It’s almost eight hours!” Raven didn’t love the idea of Rowan pursuing the relationship. That was evident.

“I told Will yesterday that I would date him. As in—I would be his girlfriend.” Rowan blushed at the admission. What in the holy hell had she been thinking? Had the kiss been that good? It did make her feel things…she couldn’t discount Will just because Hugh decided to rummage through her bedroom. Speaking of...

“You…what?” Raven was probably as confused as Rowan.

“You flipping agreed to what?” River practically shrieked.

Rowan was not above resorting to distraction. “I found Hugh in my bedroom snooping yesterday,” she said. “He almost opened—The Drawer.”

“No!” Raven and River squealed at the same time.

“That would have been embarrassing,” Raven laughed.

“Nah, he would have gotten a boner, and Row would have totally enjoyed the denim tent show.” How did River come up with that crap?

Rowan heard Bran ask what would have been embarrassing. Patrick wanted to know who had a boner. Great. The boys were back. Her sisters weren’t helping by laughing hysterically at their questions.

“Don’t you dare tell them. I fucking mean it!” Rowan’s cheeks were scorching.

So much for her repentant sisters. “Someone finding Row’s sex toy drawer.” Raven would pay for that.

“Potty mouth much, Rowan? The boner in question would be your dad’s.”

“Bre is watching Daniel while he naps. Pat and I are going to the Lobby for food until you three decide not to be disgusting. Do not ever, ever speak about toys and Rowan or discuss my dad’s dick again. Seriously, for the love of God, babe,” Bran said in exasperation.

“Row, tell us more about Hugh’s—” Pat cut River off. Rowan heard him yell stop and then heard the door slam.

“You guys are so bad! Your husbands may never recover.” Rowan giggled. “By the way, my job will be done early, so unless you guys are hankering for some Muskogee time, you needn’t come to Oklahoma on my account.”

River was still lyingface down on her bed in her sleep tee and panties, thumbing through the new Interior Design magazine. She felt more lighthearted than she had in weeks. Listening to her sisters being ridiculous was excellent medicine.

“Oh, I don’t know then,” Raven said. “We’ll talk to the guys about it today and see what they’re feeling.”

“If they’re still talking to us, that is,” River laughed.

“What in the hell is on your ass?”

Rowan almost peed her pants at Hugh’s bellow. Twisting her upper body, she glared at…God, Hugh looked so good in a casual t-shirt and shorts. Her sisters asked, “What the hell?” at the same time.

“Get the hell out of my room, you asshole!” He didn’t even react. His giant bear paw smacked down on Rowan’s back, the other landed on her ass.

“When in the fuck did you let someone tattoo your bare ass?”

He wasn’t roaring anymore. His voice was low and downright menacing. She heard “Oh Shit” coming through her speaker. An audience. Perfect.

“Hey guys, I have to get ready for work and kick a dickhead out of my room. I’ll call you in a bit.” Before they could reply, Rowan hung up and attempted to squirm out of Hugh’s hold. “Let me go, Hugh, or I’ll yell for your mom,” she threatened.

Hugh ignored her, and honestly, Rowan ignored her own threat because Hugh’s hand was no longer just holding her ass down. She felt his fingers move her sheer white cotton panties to the side of her cheek.

Her brain finally remembered what had caught his attention. The tattoo. Oh, God. Rowan redoubled her efforts to get out from under his hands. “Get off me, Hugh. For fuck’s sake,” she ground out. She felt the bed shaking where his knee had sunk into the mattress. She twisted her head to look at him.

His whole body was shaking in silent laughter. A tear, an actual tear, slipped from one of his black eyes, the bastard. Rowan let her head drop back on top of her magazine. Regret was sometimes a tediously embarrassing thing to endure.

“Christ, Row,” his voice full of amusement, “you tattooed my initials on your ass.”

“Shut up, Hugh, and get out!” Rowan moaned against the magazine’s pages. “And in case you missed it, it means kiss my ass, Hugh Darcy O’Faolain.” Rowan wasn’t looking at him, but she would swear his body became as still as granite. She was about to risk a peek when she felt warm breath on her exposed backside—right before she felt Hugh’s lips kiss the tattoo.

It was a brief press of his lips, but she felt that touch...everywhere. She may have moaned. He may have moaned.

“Would you like me to kiss your ass every day, Rowan?” He growled. “I will. Gladly.”

What in the absolute twilight zone hell was going on with this man? He’d never ever initiated touching her. Ever. Rowan slowly rolled over now that his hands weren’t holding her down and propped herself up with her elbows so she could watch him warily. Her usually sharp mind had deserted her.

Hugh towered over her, his eyes running the length of her body. Rowan had to stop her legs from rubbing together to relieve the sudden ache between them. And oh God, River’s words were prophetic. Hugh was definitely turned on. He didn’t even try to cover the evidence, but she supposed he wasn’t embarrassed about any part of his body. Why would he be? The man was exceptional.

Finally, her wits came back online. Thank God Matilda was a late sleeper. Rowan would’ve died if she’d walked in on her son towering over her half-dressed houseguest in bed. “Get out of my room, Hugh.”

He only stood there looking at her. God, he was infuriating. Rowan sat up slowly. Hugh’s eyes clocked the sway of her breasts beneath her top. Sliding her legs over the side of the bed, she told Hugh to back up. He took one step back. When she stood, the difference in their sizes had never been more apparent.

Craning her neck back to see his face, Rowan told him once more to get out of her room. “I need to get ready for work.”

“Will you let me see you tonight?”

Tempting, so very tempting but also the exact opposite of what she’d been working toward. She had to stop following Hugh around like a lost kitten. This was probably one more of Hugh’s territory marking parties. Matilda admitted last night that she’d told her son that Rowan was dating someone but didn’t tell him who it was. Hugh probably wanted to ruin her chances with Will and then move back to ignoring her.

The touching was new, Rowan admitted. Crazy to think their first, and surely only, kiss was on her ass. She would not, could not, allow him to keep, in essence, cockblocking her life.

“No,” Rowan said, shutting down his ‘let’s talk’ bologna.

“Why?”

Stubborn. Rowan started to move by him towards the en suite bathroom. He wrapped his fingers around her upper arm, stopping her from leaving.

“Why?”

Rowan blew out a weary breath. “I have a date. Now please leave my room and feel free to remember the common etiquette of not entering a person’s private space without an invitation. Spoiler—you won’t be getting one.” Hugh pulled her back until her front was plastered to his. He looked furious. Good. She was furious.

“Who are you dating?”

“None of your business. It’s never been your business. You made sure of that, Hugh,” Rowan added. Knowing the dig would land.

It did, but he shook it off in record time. “It is my goddamn business. Who is it?” he demanded again.

“William Stanton. Diana Gaine’s nephew.” Rowan felt a moment of intense satisfaction at Hugh’s shocked face.

“No. You’re lying.”

“I don’t need to lie, Hugh. Christ! You’ve been running away from me in an embarrassing sprint for months. Why would you think I wouldn’t seek a relationship with a man who isn’t embarrassed to claim me?” Rowan demanded.

“A relationship?” Hugh roared.

Rowan yelped as Hugh spun her around, pressing her back against the wall next to the door. Leaning in close to her ear, he whispered, “And do you touch yourself at night thinking about William?”

The inference was clear—did she touch herself the way she’d touched herself thinking about Hugh. Rowan was furious. This! This behavior after a million rejections! She looked at his clenched jaw and furious eyes and stood on her tiptoes until he moved closer. Whispering in his ear, she lied.

“I don’t need to use my own hand. Will knows how to use his just fine.” She shoved his chest then, catching him off guard. He took two steps back and she ran to her bathroom and locked the door behind her.