Rowan (The Irish Wolves Book 3)

Chapter 16

Rowan was going to pay for that video. Hugh had been on the eighth hole, bantering with six other men, drinking and enjoying the sunshine, when his phone dinged. As soon as he saw it was Rowan, he fumbled his club, almost dropped his drink, and literally tripped over his own damn feet as he quickly moved a distance away from the group.

When he saw it was a video, he started to sweat. He found his golf cart, thankfully the furthest cart away, and leaned on its side. Before he pressed play, he turned the volume up.

“Christ,” Hugh cursed. She’d teased him about forgetting to take a picture for him this morning. She hadn’t lied. She’d taken a video. Hugh was mesmerized, watching himself work over her breasts, sucking and kneading and biting.

“Oh God,” Hugh muttered, feeling his shorts become uncomfortably tight. She was moaning and calling his name. The hand not holding her phone was pressing the back of his head tighter against her chest, her nails scratching his scalp. The camera tilted just enough once to catch Rowan, her head thrown back. “So good, Hugh,” she’d moaned.

He heard himself tell Rowan he could play with her tits all day and her replying, “God, babe, I want you too.” He would be fifty-four this year, and he knew, with absolute certainty, that there was no other woman who could make him feel the level of intensity that Rowan Byrne inspired.

He watched it four more times. A mistake. It was almost his turn to tee off, and there would be no mistaking his conceal and carry erection. He had to think of something else. Any fucking thing else. He sent a quick text to Rowan.

You won’t know when, you won’t know how, but I will pay you back.

Don’t put too much thought into it. We all can’t be winners. Plus, I’m having dinner with your mom and Diana again tonight. XOXO

Maybe I should join you for dinner. I can think of a lot of things a person can do under a table.

I would love for you to make me come…I mean, I’d love for you to come. Diana would enjoy catching up too.

You’re playing with fire.

I hope I don’t get burned. My nipples are already soooooo sensitive.

Hugh groaned. He knew when he was beaten. For now. Damn that woman! He quickly pulled up his national news app, which thankfully had the intended effect of shrinking certain appendages so he could finish the rest of the holes. He’d lost all interest in golfing, and unfortunately, they’d be at it several more hours.

Hugh smiled as he rejoined the group while mentally reviewing his best options to torture Rowan later. She shouldn’t have told him about her dinner plans tonight. He might not want to sit down with Diana Gaines—Rowan knew very well he wouldn’t volunteer himself to endure the creature’s bad attitude—but he wouldn’t mind checking in. After all, Hugh was capable of making a video too.

It was Monday morning,and Rowan had just finished meeting with the boutique’s main contractor, Fern Rogers. Fern was a powerhouse in Oklahoma known for being honest and hardworking. Her crew was top-notch. The work they’d gotten done over the weekend was crazy, and she planned on recommending them for any future Tulsa clients. Fern had taken Rowan’s sketches and vision and could run with them with little supervision.

Rowan was sitting at the temporary desk she’d set up in the store. It was easier to have a dedicated space on-site to keep track of orders and scheduling. Her fingers kept hovering over the keyboard. After fifteen minutes of staring at the screen, her to-do list had nothing but a number one. Damn, Hugh!

His payback for sending him that video had come back to bite her in the ass. Dinner with Diana and Matilda had been a true test of patience last night. She’d only sat down at the table, and Diana’s chef had placed a beautiful garden salad in front of her when her phone had dinged. Rowan silenced it quickly. Ringing phones at the dinner table was a no-no with both older women. She’d seen Hugh’s name as she was sitting it back down and couldn’t resist clicking on it.

I just watched your video again. Going to need another shower.

Since Diana had been engaged in a lengthy story about her inept dry cleaner, Rowan sent a reply. Three words. Carpal tunnel syndrome.Smirking, she’d dropped the phone in her lap.

Dinner was delicious as usual: Tuscan butter salmon with a side of grilled Brussels sprouts and broccoli—one of Rowan’s favorite meals. She’d just taken her first spoonful of lemon mousse when her phone vibrated in her lap. In what Rowan hoped had been a casual move, she”d propped the phone against the heavy crystal dish of mousse where the two older women couldn”t see it before she opened the text.

It was a video. Sweat started prickling her brow as she’d debated on whether or not to push play. She’d at least had the forethought to turn her volume off. And oh God, just remembering Hugh stepping out of his shower, rubbing his big body with a fluffy white towel had Rowan panting. Thank goodness her desk was tucked away in a back corner.

The towel had been irritatingly large and long, covering the X-rated bits as he’d dried his body, muscles twisting and flexing. Rowan sipped her morning lemon water, her throat suddenly parched. A text had come in just as the video ended. Have you decided where you want your next kiss?

Purposefully misunderstanding, Rowan had replied, Stop by the boutique tomorrow, you can kiss me there.

The boutique’s owner was due to arrive in an hour, and Rowan believed she would flip out when she saw how close her shop was to being completed. Soon, she could start having her stock delivered. The coffee bar was going to be installed tomorrow. She was definitely checking more off than adding to her new checklist. She’d met with the lighting contractor as soon as she’d gotten in this morning before Fern. Mr. Craig’s people had also worked the weekend and only had one chandelier to hang that morning.

Rowan finally engaged her brain again and got her work done. It was satisfying that her client’s reaction to the progress was just as ecstatic as Rowan knew it’d be. It was after lunch when she and Angela finished going over the week’s schedule.

“Is the cleaning crew still scheduled for tomorrow?”

“Yes. I got the confirmation email last night.”

“Perfect. Then, when all the furniture arrives on Wednesday, we can have the delivery crew place it exactly where it goes. That’s one of my favorite parts.” Rowan clapped her hands once in excitement.

“I know! I can’t wait. It will be heaven to finally have a desk and chair that don”t fold up. Oh, I almost forgot. I hired a barista for the café. Laura’s a college student, but her classes are online or at night. I told her during her downtime upstairs that she was welcome to study. She worked at Starbucks for three years.”

“Sounds like a perfect arrangement for both of you, Angela.” Rowan was about to ask Angela if she’d gone over her assistant’s duties yet when the bell on the back door chimed. Hugh O’Faolain made an entrance. Today, he wore khaki jeans that looked like a high-end version of work pants, a white button-up with the sleeves rolled—she got stuck on how good his muscular forearms looked for a moment—and brown leather tennis shoes. The man always looked dangerously delicious.

“Oh, hey,” she said, standing to greet him. “Good morning.” Rowan was flustered. She hadn’t considered introductions when she told him to come to the store.

Angela stood as well, looking at Rowan and smiling before walking to Hugh. “I’ve been dying to meet you. I’m Angela Carvey. You must be Rowan’s William.”

Oh shit.Angela hadn’t noticed that Hugh had turned to stone.

“I won’t get after you for sending Rowan back to work so often looking well-kissed and starry-eyed,” she laughed sweetly, “because she’s the most talented designer I”ve ever worked with. I already told my husband I want her to completely redecorate our condo in Florida. Also, I was young once,” she laughed.

Thank you, baby Jesus, Angela’s phone started to ring. “Oh, it’s Julie. I’ve got to take this! My new assistant…I’m so nervous,” she admitted absently, already walking away from the burning building exploding behind her. “So glad we got to meet, Will.” Christ, have mercy.

Rowan grabbed her purse and silently led the way out of the store’s back entrance. She would rather take her chances swimming off the coast of New Zealand in Great White infested waters than attempt placating Hugh at that moment—and honestly, Rowan had not one damn thing to feel bad about. Hugh threw her away, and she dated. End of story—or it would have been if her phone hadn’t started ringing as they stepped outside.

“Oh no,” Rowan whispered under her breath. “I need to take this call. I’ll only be a minute if you want to wait under the pergola.” She turned and took several steps in the opposite direction. Answering the call, Rowan attempted a lighthearted, “Hey, Will. Did you find anything helpful in your meetings yesterday?” Keep it about work, not personal. Please.

“Nothing yet. Dad and I are getting ready to grab some lunch, and I wanted to call you while I had a minute. I miss you, Rowan. Please tell me you’ll come to stay with me this weekend. If you can’t, I’ll try to come to you, even if it’s only for a day. I need to have my arms wrapped around you again.”

No, no, no, no, no, no. Rowan had every intention of letting Will know her change of heart today but not while Hugh was around. “This weekend,” she repeated as quietly as possible, taking a peek over her shoulder to make sure Hugh was out of earshot. He was standing directly behind her.

If Doomsday were a man...and named Hugh...

Turning completely to stare at the eavesdropping ass, Rowan began to make her excuses to Will, “Hey Will, right now isn’t a great time. Can I call?—”

Hugh recognizedhe was out of control. He didn’t care. The man who’d so recently had his hands on Rowan, his Rowan, wanted her to spend the weekend with him. Not a snowball’s chance in fucking hell was that happening.

His jealous rage in the driver’s seat, Hugh grabbed Rowan’s phone from her hand, ignoring her outraged gasp. “William Stanton. Hugh O’Faolain.” Silence greeted him before Stanton recovered his composure.

“Hugh. It’s been a while. Is everything okay with Rowan?”

“Yes.” Fuck him for asking.

“Okay,” William paused, clearly confused. Hugh didn’t care. “Please put Rowan back on the phone so she can tell me herself that everything is okay.”

Hugh was mildly impressed with Stanton’s resolve. Rowan was yanking on his arm, attempting to get to her phone. Not happening. Rowan never needed to talk to William again.

This was not smart. Hugh obviously knew he was screwing up.He’d just gotten her to consider giving him another chance. He wouldn’t back down now, though. Like he’d done twenty-five years ago. Helen liked to flirt with other men to embarrass Hugh. She’d flirted with William at the Club one evening, and he’d flirted back.

That night, Hugh had wanted to punch the man over a woman that he despised. He wanted to destroy the man now.

“I’m saving you from the prolonged misconception that you and Rowan will ever be seeing each other again. She’s mine. She’s been mine for a year. I suggest you lose her number.”

“She sure didn’t taste like she was yours, O’Faolain. I think you might be mistaken. Give the phone back to Rowan. I’d hear it from her.”

Red-hot, blinding rage. He’d only felt rage like that a few times in his life, and they were all connected to Helen’s treatment of his sons.

“Let me assure you, when I made her come, the day after you left town, it was my name she was screaming. Not yours. Final warning, Stanton. Don’t come after me or mine. The consequences might be more than you’re willing to pay.”

Hugh hung up with such force he was surprised the phone didn’t buckle, collapsing from the strain. He found Rowan leaning against the boutique’s brick exterior. The hurt on her face was a bucket of ice water over his head, flushing the anger from his body so fast it left him shaky. He took several steps toward her but stopped when she shook her head.

“Give me my phone and leave.”

A gunshot through the heart would have had less impact. Hugh felt crushing alarm. His brain had evidently come back online. He didn’t want to know the consequences of what he’d just done.

“Row—”

Rowan cut him off. “Give me my phone and leave. Right. Now.”

He gave her the phone and left.