Chapter 34
“Mmm,” River moaned as she took a huge bite from her double cheese, double pineapple pizza.
She, Hugh, her sisters, and their men met Saoirse, Tim, her sister, Sadhbh, and Josh at Bonobo in Smithfield. A pizza joint that had the best pies as far as Rowan was concerned. They got two tables outside and put them together so everyone could talk to one another. It was a gorgeous evening, and the outdoor patio had fun twinkle lights, and music.
“You sound and look like a pregnant porn star,” Saoirse teased River.
“A damn good combination, as far as I’m concerned,” Patrick quipped. “Speaking of porn stars, Bran, I went to Dad’s last night and?—”
Hugh threw a quick jab to Patrick’s side, who had the misfortune of sitting by his dad, efficiently cutting off whatever his son was about to relate to the group. Everyone chuckled and begged Pat to tell them. He only grinned and shook his head, rubbing his side to let everyone know he wouldn’t chance another bruise.
Rowan sighed, the group might have been amused, but Hugh’s still form, and grim expression screamed the opposite. She looked around the table and noticed that all the couples were touching or leaning into one another—except for her and Hugh.
She leaned toward his side so he could hear her over the chatter and asked quietly if everything was alright.
He barely spared her a glance, replying with, “Yes.”
She slowly straightened. Disappointment blanketed her mood. She tried to shake it off, reminding herself that he had moments of fun and teasing, but it certainly wasn’t often. It didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy himself or love her. Grace. Grace. Grace. They promised each other to give one another grace.
Except…earlier, when the group was walking into the Bonobo, he hadn’t held her hand or even placed his hand on her back. She had asked him for a few small signs of affection when they were out.
Raven, who sat across from her, must have seen the short exchange with Hugh and gave her a questioning look. Rowan shook her head. They could talk about it tomorrow.
“I’m going to run over to Nan’s in the morning to say goodbye. I have a doctor’s appointment and a few errands to run if you need me to do anything while I’m out.” She’d called her gynecologist that morning for an appointment. Dr. Daley had a cancellation the following morning. Thank God, no more condoms. “I also want to hug Devlen, as well, since it makes the straight-faced Irishman uncomfortable,” she laughed.
“Devlen is a great man, but I admit, I love seeing him squirm on occasion,” Patrick confided. “When I first met the man, I swear my balls disappeared!”
“Damn, Pat, did you meet Devlen in high school?” Bran asked, totally straight-faced.
“Fuck you. I was a freshman, for Christ’s sake. I was a late bloomer,” Patrick defended. “Why in the hell were you looking anyway?”
“It was Dad’s fault. He made us share one of those damn Jack and Jill bathrooms. Do you know how many times I would be trying to use the bathroom, and you would get out of the shower naked?” Bran complained.
The whole table was dying laughing at this point. Hugh even managed a small smile when Rowan glanced his way.
“First, people don’t get out of the shower fully dressed. Second, you did your level best to take a shit every time I took a shower,” Patrick glowered at his brother. “You were always such a dick.”
Bran smirked, “At least I covered mine up.”
“Enough, boys,” Hugh grumbled. “And you weren’t covering it up when I caught you measuring yourself…with your Gran’s ruler.”
“Burn,” Patrick choked on his drink.
Tim and Josh had tears running down their cheeks, and the Kennedy sisters and River weren’t even making any noise, they were laughing so hard.
“You actually measured your penis?” Raven asked, giggling. “Tell me Hugh is lying!”
“How else is a man to know where he stands, babe?” Bran asked his wife.
“Greek sculptures,” Josh suggested. “Everybody’s dick is bigger than that.”
“Porn,” Tim added.
“Timothy Daniels!” Saoirse gasped. “You’ve been holding out on me,” she teased.
To which Tim gave his fiancé a lovely, smacking kiss. The table cheered. Tim had certainly come out of his shell this past year.
The waiter came by with another round of drinks, placing Rowan’s shot of Slane on the table last. He told her that a gentleman paid for hers.
Oh shit!The table went silent. She felt Hugh stiffen next to her, and just when she was about to tell the waiter thank you, another man approached her end of the table.
He was tall with a sandy blonde mohawk, brow piercings, and his muscular arms sported full tattoo sleeves. What could be seen of his legs beneath his shorts were fully tatted, as well…and he was smiling wide enough to show off his dimples.
Davey. The man who’d tattooed her ass. She knew she must look like a deer in headlights as Davey took the place of the waiter.
She had to say something…“Davey, wow, what a surprise.” Lame and awkward AF.
“Hey, Rowan. I’ve been watching your table for a bit,” he admitted with a laugh. “I was sure it was you. Since you seem to be the only one in your group not on a date, I thought I’d take a chance you might want to hang out tonight.”
There wasn’t enough damage control in all of Europe to dampen this shit show fire.
Davey looked sheepish but committed. She gave him props for being so bold. She could never have approached a table full of people to ask someone out, but oh God, the worst was when he said she was the only one not on a date. Damn it, Hugh!
Before she could come up with a brilliant reply—a thank you and have a good evening, I’m going home soon—Davey addressed the group.
“Hey all, I’m Davey Paxton. I met Rowan at my shop a few months ago.”
Raven, bless her, tried to fill the silence. “Oh, that’s cool. I’m Raven, her sister. What kind of store is it?”
“I’m a tattoo artist. I own Grey’s off Cow’s Lane.”
Rowan mentally began the Act of Contrition. O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended thee and I detest all my sins, because I…let this man tattoo my bare ass, and now Hugh knows his name, knows his face, and where he works.
She heard River’s quiet, “Oh, fuck.”
Preach.
When she heard the scratch of Hugh’s chair over the cobbled patio, signaling he might be about to make a move, she knew she had to end this.
“Thank you for the drink, Davey—very thoughtful.” She fluttered her hands, a gross abuse of gratuitous gestures. “However, I am on a date. I apologize if you thought otherwise.” She blindly reached her hand back to lay her palm on the top of Hugh’s thigh. His muscles were stiff enough to bounce her hand off.
Davey’s smile faltered. “Damn, sorry. I would have never…that is, I thought he was someone’s da?—”
She cut him off before more damage could be done. “Haha,” she cringed at how robotic she sounded. “It was so good to see you. Thank you again for the drink.”
River tried to help too. “You did a killer job on Row’s tat. If I ever decide to get another one, I’ll give you a call.”
“Yeah, Davey, “Raven added. “It was great to meet you, and we’ll definitely remember Grey’s.”
Davey gave Rowan a pointed look as she slipped her hand from Hugh to fully face the tattoo artist. “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” she finished with a stiff smile.
“I will, thank you. If you change your mind, find me. If you went out on a date with me, love, everyone would know we were together.” With that mic drop, he waved goodbye to the table and left.
Needless to say, the jovial atmosphere of pre-Davey never made a second appearance. Her sisters and friends tried their best, but Hugh never spoke another word. Not one.
By the time they got home, he still hadn’t spoken. Grace only went so far. His lethal silence and clenched jaw had pushed her past pissed off.
She wanted to confront his behavior, but honestly, she wasn’t sure she could stay level-headed. The worried looks that her sisters had kept sending her on the drive home only made her more pissed at Hugh. He promised he would try. If this was trying, she’d hate to see what their relationship would look like if he gave up.
Hugh watchedRowan silently walk to the refrigerator and grab a bottle of water. She didn’t turn back around but stayed facing the opposite direction from where he stood. She took a few sips, probably hoping he would leave the room.
He wanted to. He wanted to avoid discussing the evening, but not at the expense of her feelings.
“Rowan.” Her shoulders stiffened. She didn’t acknowledge him or turn around. “Please, talk to me.” She placed the bottle down on the counter before slowly turning. Her eyes were red-rimmed like she was barely keeping herself from crying. He kept hurting her, and it was killing him.
“You managed silence quite well most of the evening. Why break it now?”
“I did try to join in more. I did enjoy tonight.” He sounded pathetic, but he had enjoyed everyone laughing and enjoying themselves. She didn’t say anything else.
“I fucked up by not…from the beginning, I should have…held your hand. Like you asked. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head and sighed. “You didn’t just treat me like a stranger. You were actually unkind to me at the table. If I leaned too far into your personal space, you looked like you wanted to run. I let it go because I said I’d be patient.”
He could only nod. Everything she said was true, except if he’d run, it would have been with her over his shoulder so they could be alone.
“You did start to enjoy yourself, I agree, but after Davey stopped by, you were…horrible, for lack of a better word.”
Even hearing that man’s name again sent sharp jealousy stinging through his chest.
“I explained that I was, in fact, on a date. You should have let it go,” she blew out an exasperated breath.
“Your very young, very attractive tattoo artist that touched your bare ass and thought I was your dad!” he roared the last. He was livid. Not at Rowan—only at himself.
“The same man who bought me a drink and asked me out because he didn’t have a clue I was on a date. How could he have known? How could anyone have known we were together?” she yelled back. “And you shouldn’t care what anyone else thinks of us being together. You,” she stopped to jab her finger in his direction, “should only care what I think about it!”
He leaned on the center island, palms flat on the cool surface, facing Rowan’s disappointment. His goddamned hang-ups were going to lose him everything if he didn’t step up. He started to tell her that he wouldn’t screw up as bad as he had tonight ever again, but she shook her head and raised her hand to stop him.
“I’m sleeping in the guest bedroom. I’m too emotional tonight to be rational, and I’m exhausted. Give me tonight. I want to be rested when I see Nan off in the morning, and I have an early doctor’s appointment. I’ll talk to you tomorrow when we’ve both cooled down.”
He didn’t want to wait. He wanted this resolved. He needed her forgiveness…again, but he also wanted to give her what she needed, so he nodded okay.
She went to their bedroom, grabbed some clothes and toiletries, and walked silently down the hall to the spare room, quietly shutting the door.
It sounded as loud as thunder.