Chapter 29 Ronan
RONAN
Finn spun around on his bar stool, treating it like a kid’s toy top as whirled around and around. “The Gallaghers want to bring a keg for the patio opening party.” His face flashed past. “Free of charge. It was my idea, just so you know.”
Declan made a note on the inventory sheet without looking up. “Tell them yes before they change their minds.”
Finn somehow managed to pull out his phone while spinning and typed out a text I assumed he sent to Patrick Gallagher, one of his buddies at the fire house.
I almost shook my head at his antics, but why bother?
Instead, I focused on the final details of the renovation that had consumed the better part of two months–not that I minded–-and was finally close enough to being finished that the euphoria of a job well done swam through me.
I still needed to do a little touch up painting on the windows and finish the last section of shelving in the back room. Nothing major.
The outdoor lighting fixtures were scheduled to arrive today. Once I installed them, we’d be ready for the grand opening of the patio space.
“Heya, Declan, the guys in the back corner want more biscuits. I’m supposed to be switching to the lunch menu.” Benny propped his elbows on the metal counter in the kitchen and eyed us though the delivery window.
“If you have any leftover, they can have those. Otherwise, they need to come back tomorrow morning.” Declan set down his pen and rubbed his face as Benny grinned and tipped his imaginary chef hat. . He’d been doing that a lot lately.
Finn wound up tight. Declan looking exhausted and worried. I didn’t know what my face looked like, but I’d bet last year’s salary it was a combination of theirs. We all felt it, the tension coiling as bad luck rolled down the pipeline.
Maeve always believed in luck. Good and bad. She made sure we did too, which was why Finn knocked his knuckles on the bar three times every time he spun past.
I didn’t understand how he hadn’t fallen off the fucking stool by now.
The back door crashed open.
We turned at the same time as Bree flew through, her coat hanging off one shoulder and her chin ducked close to her chest. She rushed forward, her steps quick and deliberate, as she stormed toward the stairs, using the hallway connected to the back room and alley to avoid the main pub.
She climbed with a jagged step, skipping every other stair. Her apartment door slammed.
Finn leaped off the stool first, but Declan and I were already standing and joining him before he made it a single step. We rushed the stairs together. The pub went quiet behind us, the heavy weight of watchful eyes tracking our every move. We didn’t look back, didn’t try to come up with an excuse.
I reached the door first and twisted the knob. “Locked.” Why would she lock us out? “Bree? What’s wrong?”
“Go away.” The muffled order came out almost too low to hear.
Declan and Finn crowded in behind me. Finn knocked. “Bree, open the door.”
“No.” More muffled words followed, but her voice dropped out of range.
Finn took a step back. “Move, Ronan. I’ll break it down.”
“No.” I put a hand on his chest and pushed.
“You break it down and Bree doesn’t have a door until I can buy and replace it.
” I nudged him further back. “I’m a contractor, idiot.
I know how to remove a door.” It would take me a little bit longer, but Bree would still have a door when I finished.
I’d seen Finn break doors before. It wasn’t a pretty sight.
I crouched and examined the handle assembly.
“Go get my flathead screwdriver from my toolbox.” I frowned at the knob.
“Better yet, bring me the whole toolbox.”
Five minutes later, the knob fell into my open palm and the door swung open.
The sight in front inside drove me up from my knees and across the room before I even fully recognized the image of Bree standing in front of the bathroom mirror with scissors in her right hand and a fistful of hair in the other.
Her face was red and swollen from crying, and silent tears tracked down her cheeks as the scissors snipped.
A hank of red hair fell to the floor, joining others that covered her feet in piles.
“What the hell?” Finn growled low in his throat. “What happened?”
Bree grabbed another fistful of hair and pulled it around her shoulder, revealing a large gap near the nape of her neck. She couldn’t have cut that herself. I’d watched my wife cut her own hair for years. She always had trouble with that area.
“Someone pulled a fucking hack job on her hair.” I crossed the room and took the scissors from her hand, pulling her into a hug. “It’s okay.”
It wasn’t, and we all knew it, but Bree collapsed against my chest, her sobs ratcheting up to a full-blown crying jag.
Finn and Declan moved to surround her, the three of us holding her though the storm of emotions. She clung to me, to us, and explained what happened in broken sentences amid hiccups.
Finn cursed so long I worried he’d give himself a headache. He squeezed Bree’s shoulders. “I’m going over there.”
“No.” Declan grabbed Finn’s arm, dragging him to a stop.
“Decla–”
“You talked to her already.” Declan tipped his head, his voice dropping. “Going back won’t help Bree.”
“It’ll make me feel better.” Finn muttered but stopped trying to walk away.
Declan was right. I didn’t blame Finn for talking to Bethany and trying to set her straight, but would she have pushed things this far if he’d left it alone? I didn’t know, and that bothered me, but not as much as how Bree trembled in my arms.
Finn wiped tears from Bree’s face. “You don’t believe anything she said to you. You are beautiful and amazing. She’s the ugly one. Always has been.”
Bree’s chin trembled. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters.” I kissed the top of her head. “Do you want us to take you somewhere to get your hair fixed? There’s a good salon a few towns over.”
“No.” Bree turned toward the mirror, her jaw jutting out in that familiar stubbornness I’d come to adore.
“I’ve cut my own hair before, in college when I couldn’t afford a salon.
” She ran her hand along the nape of her neck, fingers trembling when she touched the ragged edge. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Are you sure?” Declan sat on the edge of the tub and stretched out his legs.
Bree nodded. “I need to do this. If nothing else, it proves I didn’t let her beat me.”
I released her and took a step back so she had room to work. Finn sat on the toilet, and I stood guard at the door, the three of us surrounding her and offering our support.
Bree picked up the scissors from where I’d placed them on the vanity, closed her eyes and exhaled, then opened them and began snipping.
She worked slowly, feathering in softness where there had been only harsh angles.
“Can you hold up that other mirror?” Bree pointed the scissors at a small hand mirror.
I took it and let her direct me into the right position.
By the time she finished, she sported an A-line bob that swung lower at the jaw and shorter at the nape, keeping as much length as possible by elongating the cut toward her chin.
She made two final cuts and set the scissors on the shelf.
“Well.” She swallowed and attempted a smile. “It’ll grow back.”
“It looks incredible.” I put the mirror away and held out my hands toward her.
She ran her fingers through the short strands over and over again.
“He’s right.” Declan pushed to his feet and looked at her reflection over her shoulder. “Stop looking at what’s been done and look at what you created.”
She looked, her gaze flicking between his face and hers in the mirror.
“It suits you.” I pinched a strand between my thumb and forefinger and let it fall to brush her cheeks. “You’re more beautiful than ever.”
Her eyes filled, but she held my gaze. “I’m so tired of letting them get to me.”
“We’re here for you. Whatever you need.” I tipped her chin up, tilting her face toward me.
She gripped my wrist in one hand and kissed me, slow at first but with a building intensity. “I need to spend time with all of you. It’s been too long.”
That was all we needed to make our way to the bedroom, strip off clothes we left in a pile by the bed, and climb in with Bree. We took our time. Getting clothes off was just the first step.
Once we’d taken care of that, Finn settled on the bed beside her, kissing her and stroking her shoulders.
Declan knelt beside her and kissed her temple, her cheek, the line of her jaw.
We let ourselves slow down to the point of doing almost nothing at all except giving Bree what she needed.
Touches. Kisses. Murmurs of affirmation that put a blush in her cheeks and heightened every passing moment.
I kissed my way down her body, stopping to linger on a spot when she moaned beneath my lips.
I eased a hand beneath her hips, tilting them toward me, and stroked her clit until she came apart in slow, languid movements and breathy sighs.
This was not the hot, hungry sex we usually indulged in. This was lovemaking, and we made sure Bree understood the difference.
By the time I entered her, she’d come so many times her body went boneless. But at the feel of my cock deep inside, she came alive again, bowing her back and crooning at how good I felt. “Ronan. Oh god, Ronan.”
I snapped my hips back, then forward again, increasing the pace and giving her every part of me. This was no longer our bodies coming together but a melding of hearts and souls. She owned me. She might never know it. She might never want me the way I did her, but I belonged to her.
A tremble ran up my spine and spread to every part of my body.
Bree tightened around me, her voice rising with her climax. We came together in one of the most beautiful and hardest orgasms of my life. I gripped the sheets on either side of her head and kissed her until I had no air left.
Finn took my place when I pulled out, flipping Bree onto her stomach and sliding into her with a groan.
“Declan.” She patted the space beneath her, and Declan wasted no time settling in against the pillows.
The three of them together seared into my memory, and as soon as I could breathe without gasping, I rejoined the party.
Finn leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, right beneath the shortest line of hair.
Bree shuddered and pressed her ass into his stomach, groaning when he reached around and flicked her clit while driving his cock deeper.
We stayed in her bed for hours, until long after nightfall when the pub reached its peak operating hours. If Declan worried about missing a shift behind the bar, he didn’t mention it.
It didn’t matter. None of it fucking mattered if Bree was unhappy.
She grinned at me over her shoulder as we lay in a pile of rumpled sheets, the smell of sex so thick in the room it would follow us for hours, probably even after we showered. I ran my hands through her hair and down the line of her jaw. “You are the best thing to happen to me in years.”
Her eyes fluttered closed. “Same, big guy. That goes for all three of you.”
I brought her into my lap and locked my arms around her waist. All of us wouldn’t fit in her shower or I’d have already taken off in that direction. So, for now, we cuddled and whispered and pretended like the world outside didn’t exist.