Chapter 20
Isabelle
The week after I dumped food in Rian’s lap, everyone in the house made themselves scarce. I only saw Rian in the mornings when he’d fuck me before leaving, and I received a few texts here and there to forgo dinner this week. It hurt my feelings a bit, but I tried not to take it personally, Aodhan assured me it’s business that’s taking too much of his time, not because of my tantrum.
It’s eerily quiet this morning as I come down the stairs and find Deirdre alone in the kitchen.
“They’re all gone again?”
She hands me a cup of coffee with a smile. “No, dear. They’re all down in the gym.”
“Gym? We have a gym in the house?” Rian never showed me that during the tour.
“In the basement.” She waves me in the direction of the gym, but yelps and grabs my arm before I can move. “Turn left, dear. Do not go right.”
I frown, concerned by her worried tone. “Why?”
Deirdre shakes her hand. “Sometimes, things are not meant to be talked about or seen by our eyes.”
Heeding her ominous warning, I find the gym at the end of the basement hallway. They don’t notice when I slip in. They’re paired off and fighting on mats in the center. I’m amazed by how large the space is, with multiple treadmills along one wall and a few weight benches on the other. Cillian and Rian are paired off, both their hands covered in padded gloves as Aodhan and Cormac mimic their stance on the other end of the squared off section.
“Ready to get put on your ass in front of your wife,” Cillian taunts and my eyes widen, unaware they’d even noticed me.
Rian grins, the malicious curl to it making my core clench. “You can certainly try.”
Both of the men are bare-chested, showing off their extensive tattoos that cover every inch of their skin. Their shorts cut off at their knees, but my gaze keeps tracking back to Rian, admiring every toned and sculpted muscle on his body.
“What say you, Isabelle? Who’d you bet on?”
Aodhan shakes his head at Cillian's question while Cormac walks away. They bump fists before moving toward me and plop on the floor, stretching out.
“It’s unwise to bet without prior information,” Cormac says with a teasing twist of his lips.
Aodhan nods. “I can count on one hand the amount of times Cillian has gotten Rian to the ground.”
“You have faith in me, don’t you, baby?”
I flush at Rian’s endearment and glance up at him, the dark look in his eyes promising every deep desire before he bites on his lip and turns back to Cillian.
“I have faith in my husband,” I admit quietly, sitting down next to them.
Cormac snickers. “I bet you do.”
Rolling my eyes, I ignore his taunt and pull my knees closer to my body as Cillian and Rian swing at each other. I flinch at the first punch he takes to the ribs and glance away as he returns one to Cillian’s jaw.
“Do you guys do this a lot?”
“What? Exercise?” Aodhan asks.
“Fight one another for sport.”
Cormac waves his hand toward the mat. “Boxing together keeps us on our toes. We never aim to hurt.”
“You know, you should start training with us. It’s good for you to have some basic self-defense knowledge to get out of holds. Maybe learn how to throw a punch,” Aodhan adds, nodding to himself as if it’s a done deal already.
I glance between them curiously. “You’d train me?”
A laugh barks out of Cormac’s throat. “Rian would more than likely, unless you get used to his style, then we can switch it up.”
“No, I mean…I’d love to. I just never thought you’d want me to join you guys like that.” My cheeks are burning as an embarrassed blush works over my face.
Aodhan’s pierced eyebrow raises. “Because you’re the boss lady?”
I lift my shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “Guess so.”
“Did you know Cillian has a sister? A twin, actually.” Cormac says as he undoes the wraps around his wrists.
Shaking my head, I look up as a small grunt rises out of Cillian before Rian turns and hooks his foot behind Cillian’s leg and pushes him backward. They hit the mat with a soft thud and Cillian curses.
Aodhan shakes his head. “You’re too reactive as always, Cill. Wait it out, anticipate the next move.”
“Her name is Aisling, but we call her the forgotten brother.”
I turn back to Cormac, intrigued immediately by what he’s talking about. “Because she’s…” He hasn’t referred to her in past tense, but I’m not sure if that is out of respect.
“Because she’s a ghost. Her missions are more complex than anything we’ve ever done.” Cormac’s eyes take on a sad gloss, the small v on his forehead deepening. “She adapts to whole new identities that can take years to build, but she’s our best intelligence gatherer. There have been times when our lives were completely dependent on her information.”
“The brotherhood would be nothing without her,” Rian says just as his shadow falls over me. I glance up at him, a shiver running through me at the sight of sweat glistening on his chest. Similar to how it shines when he fucks me during the night after we have more than one round.
“So you’re not sexist is what you’re trying to tell me,” I tease, grabbing the hand Rian sticks out to pull me up. His arms wrap around me, hands squeezing my ass.
“You should meet Declan’s wife Aoife. That girl used to scare all of us when we were younger,” Rian says.
Aodhan groans, collapsing onto his back on the padded floor. “I still don’t know how that bastard fell for her, making us keep her around forever.”
Cillian snickers as he wipes his face with a towel. “Declan has bigger balls than all of us.”
I smile, my heart skipping a beat as Rian pulls me closer. “I think I’d like to meet them both,” I say.
“If you want to train with me, then I’ll make sure to set up time for just us.” The mischievous smile on his face makes me narrow my eyes.
“Something tells me I’ll end up on my back for an entirely different reason.”
The men burst out in loud laughter and I push away from my husband. “Are you going to be home for dinner tonight? You guys have been missing all week.”
I can’t believe I’m even asking them this after not even wanting to be married in the first place, but I’ve grown used to them being around. And sometimes it still doesn’t feel real, even with the ring on my finger. Nothing feels different internally to make me feel like I’m a wife. Perhaps it’s because of the life Rian has and how I barely have to lift a finger to do anything. I feel stuck, like I’m in between chapters of my life, and I’m not sure what to do. The only thing I’ve clung to my entire life was cooking, and I haven’t approached that subject with Rian again.
“Yes, what are you making?” he asks, grabbing a towel to wipe off his sweat.
I glance at the men. “Was there anything you guys wanted?”
“Oh, are you taking personal orders? Because I’d?—”
“Shut the fuck up, Cillian. My wife isn’t your private chef,” Rian says with an eyeroll.
Cillian gasps in faux outrage. “She would be if I asked. Isn’t that your dream?”
Aodhan groans, probably figuring I’ll take offense, and Cormac punches Cillian in the stomach. I can see pure fury rolling over Rian’s face so I force out a laugh.
“Your private chef? Absolutely not. I may take suggestions when I own a restaurant, but that’s the extent of the effort I’d make for you.”
Rian blows out a breath and shakes his head. “Don’t mind the idiot, he speaks before he thinks. It’s something we were never able to train him out of.”
He pulls me out of the room as Cillian starts to argue while Aodhan and Cormac begin speaking over him. Rian wiggles his eyebrows at me. “I have to shower. Want to join me?”
My heart pangs at the fact I actually missed him over the last few days, and I feel crazy for that. I shake my head. “No, I’m going to start dinner if you’re staying. I want to give time for the dough to rest.”
“Handmade pasta? You spoil us,” he says with a grin and it lights up his face. My breath stalls a second from the beauty of it. I find it harder every day to stay mad at him, knowing he’s going to be mine forever. Marriage has always seemed like a burden, but the fierce possessiveness I feel when I know he goes out with our ring on display should be studied. It also makes me feel like a fool, a silly little girl who has fallen for a pretty man who knows how to fuck like a god. My mind is a constant spiral of confusion.
He watches me for another moment before leaning down and brushing his lips against mine. I sigh into his kiss, deepening it when he doesn’t pull away. His fingers flex on my waist. “You sure you don’t want to join me?” Rian whispers against my mouth.
I laugh softly. “You know we can’t just fuck all day?”
“Says who? I’m the boss.”
Pushing at his chest, I bite my lip and shake my head again. “Go before you tempt me to say yes.”
* * *
Pulling off my gloves, I hand them to Greg with a smile. He’s been more than accommodating to add things in the greenhouse, including a fresh selection of herbs. I can’t wait to see them grow.
“We can always rip out the shrubs if you need more room, Mrs. O’Callaghan,” he tells me with an excited nod.
I glance to where he’s pointing. “What flowers bloom there?”
“ Sabhaircín .”
“Primrose,” Rian says and I turn to face him, startled. He and the rest of the men disappeared before I even finished dinner the other day, I’m woken up briefly by Rian kissing my forehead every morning before they’re gone again. Being stuck in this never-ending limbo of wondering what’s going on is slowly boring me to death.
He watches with amusement. “In English it’s called primrose. My mother planted them.”
“Then we keep them,” I say.
Greg nods and scurries off, and I hold out my hand for Rian to pull me up from the ground. His arms wrap around my waist when I stand.
“You don’t have to keep them. They’re just flowers, Isabelle.”
I sigh, glancing up at him. “Your mother’s flowers. She breathed life into them, who am I to take them away?”
His bright blue eyes stare down at me, a softness to them that has my heart racing as he studies my face. “I believe she has a book in her library about all the uses of primrose, if you’re interested.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, curiously. It doesn’t escape my notice that I haven’t moved from his hold, in fact I almost feel at home.
Rian smiles. “It’s fascinating. A lot of medicinal purposes, passed down from ancestors.”
I nod. “I’d like that. And thanks for letting Greg purchase what I wanted to plant so quickly.”
His smile falters and he slowly lets go of me to rub at his jaw. “This is your home too, Isabelle.”
My stomach clenches, hating that I’ve ruined this small moment. It was nice to pretend we were normal while it lasted. “I know. I’m—it’s just. Give me time, Rian. I’m trying.”
Since I watched him fight a few days ago, we’ve kind of been in a peaceful oblivion. We’ve gone about our days as if we’re a perfect married couple and I have nothing better to do than play in the garden and make dinners. For the most part I haven’t minded it, enjoying being in the kitchen regardless. Then I wake up to him in our bed every morning and I’m reminded it’s all a mirage, something I’m desperate for while also aching from the reality of the situation.
He nods. “I brought dinner home from one of our favorite Chinese food restaurants. I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I grabbed a bit of everything.”
My eyebrows raise. “Chinese food? That’s…I can’t remember the last time I had any.”
“Cillian gets bored, prefers a variety of food to keep him satisfied,” he says as we walk toward the house. His hand slides into mine, and I squeeze it tightly, enjoying the calluses of his palm against my skin. A sense of contentment I didn’t think I could feel seeps into my heart.