Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
CALLUM
“ Y ou fucking eejit,” Donovan muttered for the twentieth time that night.
I took a pull of the fucking incredible tasting beer my wife had brewed for my bar and retorted, “I know, all right.”
“Can’t believe you had your hands on that bitch’s ass, and your nuts are still intact,” Atlas sneered, his tone full of disgust.
“I told ya, I didn’t even realize,” I told him, my tone pitchy and defensive. “It was a force of habit.”
Cash dropped his head and grinned down at his beer. “Been where you are, and it’s mighty cold in that doghouse. I feel bad for ya, bro, but still, how fuckin’ stupid can ya be?”
“I know. I know,” I muttered, taking another swig of incredible beer.
“How much did Maeve see?” Breaker asked.
“Enough,” I grumbled, swigging my beer again. I sighed, holding up my bottle to check the color again. “This stuff’s fucking addictive. I think Mae’s put goddamned crack in it.”
Atlas held his cider bottle up and cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve never tasted anythin’ like this. I always believed down to my bones that nothin’ would ever taste as good as my Stitch, but this shit’s even givin’ her a run for her money.” He took a long pull, his eyes rolling back in his head with pleasure before making a big show of gulping it down. “It’s like nectar of the Gods. Is it apples? Pears? Berries? Peaches? Who knows, and more’s the point, who fuckin’ cares?”
“Maeve made that for the chicks,” I pointed out. “Says it’s popular with the ladies.”
“So put a skirt on me and call me Sharon,” Atlas muttered. “’Cause I don’t give a flying fuck.”
Bowie took a swig of her beer, then looked at the bottle approvingly. “Kinda wish you’d let me invest now. These’ll make you a mint. You’re onto a winner here.” He tipped his bottle toward the table where Maeve sat with Tristan and the women. “Unfortunately, it sucks that you’ve hit the jackpot with the drinks but fucked up royally with the Mrs. You’ve been married a week, and already things are on the rocks.”
My heart took a nosedive.
Atlas chuckled.
Breaker stared at his boots, grinning.
“Still can’t believe you had your hands on Saskia’s ass,” Donovan muttered, glaring at me. “Are you fucking crazy? If Mam had walked in, she’d have taken a rolling pin to your head.”
“My hands were on her hips,” I protested. “And I didn’t even realize. At the time, the only thing in my head was that I didn’t need her making a scene and tipping off Maeve that something was amiss.”
“How did that shit work out for ya?” Atlas bit back sarcastically.
The boys snickered.
“It’ll be okay, Cal,” Bowie assured me. “She’ll talk to you again... eventually.”
My eyes sliced toward my wife, who caught my stare. I threw her a hopeful smile, but she stuck her nose in the air and looked away from me, stony-faced. “Yeah,” I replied, my heart clenching painfully. “Maybe sometime this century.”
“What do you expect?” Breaker asked. “Imagine if you’d walked into your office and found her with her ex-boyfriend’s hands all over her ass. You’d have pitched a fit.”
I bit back a curse.
Just the mere thought of my wife with another man made my insides flare.
Breaker was right; if the boot was on the other foot, I would’ve ripped the guy’s head off. Though, admittedly, Maeve held her own with Saskia, too. When she walked in and threw some attitude, I was half-proud of her, but being on the receiving end of that shit was killing me. Maeve had acted like a boss bitch, and in different circumstances, that feisty attitude would’ve made my cock hard as an iron crowbar.
All the staff had come in to get their new rosters throughout the day. It was just my fucking luck that Saskia had managed to time her arrival perfectly. I’d been in the bar all day and had quickly gone to the office to check an order, and there she was, sitting at my desk, waiting for me after sneaking in through the back door.
I was shocked and highly fucking uncomfortable when she tried her shit, and I didn’t quite know the best way to handle it. My wife was just yards away, and the last thing I needed was for my ex-fuck buddy to cause a scene. I hated the thought of Maeve finding out about Sass; we were connecting, and my feelings for my wife were growing stronger every day, and I didn’t want anything to screw it up. So, I played along to a certain extent while my brain furiously tried to work out how I could appease Saskia and keep Maeve in the dark. Then, lo and behold, I looked up, and there was my wife, staring at me with so much hurt and anger in her expression that it felt like somebody had shoved a dagger into my gut.
After Maeve ordered Saskia to get out, I tried to explain, but she just gave me a series of long, cold, hurt-filled glares, got her coat, and stormed over to the salon, leaving me to stew in my own fuck-up.
I couldn’t blame her for being angry. Donovan was right; faced with the same situation, I would’ve hit the roof, so Maeve’s cold, silent fury was understandable. In a way, I was even proud of how she stuck up for herself.
All day, I waited in the bar so I could sit her down and explain, but when she returned, she had Tristan and her girls at her back, and with all the shitty looks thrown my way, I knew she’d shared all the gritty details.
Should I have owned up about Saskia before? Absolutely, but I wasn’t proud of the fact I’d fucked one of my staff members. Shitting where I ate was a bad move because now I had a wife who thought I was playing away, or was at least tempted to, and a waitress who thought she could come into my bar, act the fool, and cause trouble in my marriage.
I had to fire Saskia, but she was the type who would threaten a wrongful dismissal lawsuit just to get back at me, and seeing as it was common knowledge that I was fucking her for months, it wouldn’t go well for me in a courtroom.
A sexual harassment accusation was the last thing I needed, especially while the bar’s finances were so precarious, but at the same time, I couldn’t have Saskia thinking she had one up on me or Maeve.
Clearly, I needed help.
“Maybe I should talk to Kennedy,” I muttered. “See where I stand legally with Saskia.”
Breaker grinned down at his boots again.
“Ya think?” Donovan deadpanned.
“Smart ass,” I bit back. “Don’t forget you fucked her too.”
“I wasn’t her goddamned employer,” he retorted.
A tight feeling enveloped my gut, and I took another swig of beer, thinking that maybe if I just got drunk outta my skull, I could at least forget about my fucked-up, shitty life for a while.
Tonight was when I was finally supposed to fuck my wife. Now, there was as much chance of that happening as me sprouting glitter wings, levitating into the air, and sprinkling everybody in the bar with pink fairy dust.
God-fucking-damnit!
Maeve stood with Kennedy and linking arms, they made their way toward the bar together.
I sucked in a breath and clamped my mouth shut. It was obvious Maeve had recruited her friend to accompany her to get drinks. There was safety in numbers, and the fact my wife thought she needed a human shield to protect her from me, her husband, was a hard punch to the gut.
Watching them approach, I gave Kennedy a chin lift. “Need a meet with you ASAP.”
“I’ll ask one of my associates,” Kennedy replied dryly, staring at me like I was a dog turd she’d trodden her stilettos in. “I’m not talking to you right now.”
Breaker chuckled.
“And if you need a divorce lawyer,” she went on. “Rest assured, I’ll be representing Maeve.”
My body locked.
Divorce?
My shocked stare slid to my wife, and my heart contracted painfully. “We’re not getting divorced. What the fuck, Maeve?”
Her gaze couldn’t quite meet mine.
Kennedy looked between us, “Callum. I’m sorry, I?—”
I jumped to my feet, my mind so full of panic that I didn’t even notice how the force of my body shoved my stool back into the bar and made it clatter over noisily. “I know I was a dick, but we’re not getting divorced.”
Maeve looked around the bar at everybody watching us, her cheeks burning. “We’ll talk about it later. Now’s not the time or the place for?—”
“We’re not getting divorced,” I repeated, my tone a rasp. “I get you hate me right now, but I’m gonna prove that Saskia means nothing?—”
“Don’t!” Maeve snapped. “I don’t want to hear her name.”
“Baby—” I began.
She threw her arms out in the air beside her and screeched, “You blindsided me again ! You kept secrets again . Do I think something’s going on between you and that skank? No, I don’t, but still, yet again , I walk into a room, and you’re holed up, looking cozy while having secret conversations with another woman you’ve been with. And what’s even worse is that she works here, so I have to see her all the time, knowing what you two had.”
“We didn’t have anything,” I assured her. “It was just sex.” I thought my words would appease her. Except, they didn’t appease her at all. If anything, they made her more furious because her eyes flashed, her cheeks reddened, and she leaned toward me, hands clenching into fists, shrieking, “Well! That’s alright then!”
“Oh shit,” Cash muttered.
Bowie coughed, “Fuckwit!” into his hand.
Atlas chuckled.
I held my hands up. “Baby?—”
She jerked her index finger at me and scraped out, “Don’t you baby me. I told you we’d talk about it later, but you’ve got to have everything your own way. You wound me up, and now I look like a fucking loo-lah standing here screaming at you in front of everybody.”
“You’re good, Mae Mae,” Tristan called from the table. “I’d do more than scream at him if I were you.”
“Same,” Cara piped up.
“I’d have kicked him in the balls by now,” Sophie drawled.
Layla giggled from her place next to Tristan.
I tipped my head back and sighed out my frustration. Then I lowered my stare to meet my wife’s. Calmer that time, I scraped out, “We're not getting a divorce.”
Maeve heaved a breath, too, obviously just as exasperated as I was. “I never mentioned divorce.”
Kennedy popped a hip, jamming her hand to it. “If you’d have let me finish, I would have told you that Maeve never said anything about divorce. It was just a throwaway comment which I was trying to apologize for.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Wrong time, wrong place.”
“Right,” I muttered, thinking how I now looked like the loo-lah . “Maybe I jumped to conclusions.”
Maeve cocked her head and sighed again.
My shoulders slumped. I felt like a dick for losing it in front of everybody, but I was also filled with relief that Maeve wasn’t about to serve me divorce papers after just weeks of marriage.
“Like I said,” she murmured, her demeanor notably calmer. “We’ll talk about this later. It’s not the time or the place.”
“It’s cool, kids,” Atlas boomed. He drained his cider and placed the bottle on the bar. “High time we left ya to it, anyway. I’ve gotta put my princesses to bed. Only stayed this long to yank Callum’s chain and watch the cocky bastard sweat.” He nodded toward the fridge at the back of the bar. “I’d appreciate a little gift to take with me, though. Your cider’s the absolute shit.”
Maeve smiled. “I’m so happy you all like it, and of course you can take some home.”
“You’ve hit the jackpot with those drinks, Toots, mark my words,” he announced before turning to me. “And you better stop playin’ the fuckin’ fool, or you’ll have me to fuckin’ answer to.”
“And me,” Tristan spouted off.
Maeve beamed. “You’re both such sweethearts.”
I felt my expression pinch.
Why was she being cute to everybody but me? I wanted my sweet wife back. I missed the warm feeling I got in my chest when she gazed up at me with stars in her cosmic eyes and the soft look she had on her face, like when we were talking about our babies.
She should’ve been beaming at me, nobody else. Just me.
It took ages for everybody to gather their coats and belongings and file outside to their cars. I waited, trying not to tap my foot impatiently and check my watch while the girls and Tristan purposely took their time—no doubt to piss me off—by hugging Maeve and stopping to aimlessly chat as they left.
Donovan gave me a chin lift as he walked past, zipping up his leather jacket and adjusting his scarf. “You be nice to her,” he scolded. “Remember, you fucked up, so apologize.”
“I will if everybody stops interrupting me and minds their own fucking business,” I hissed, holding the door open.
He walked into the dark street, muttering, “Just make it right, Callum.”
My reply was to slam the door closed behind him with a flourish of my hand before muttering obscenities under my breath. I loved my buddies, loved my brother too, but by God, they were interfering motherfuckers. The Speed Demons were constantly up in each other’s business, probably because they all worked and lived in the same vicinity. I was more private, and I hated people sticking their noses in my business and my marriage.
I turned around to see Maeve gathering her shit together. “I’m going to bed,” she told me quietly before slipping out of the bar.
Her defeated tone crawled inside my chest and squeezed my heart painfully.
Cursing quietly, I set about locking the doors, and pulling the shutters down before checking everything was turned off. Seeing Maeve so despondent made my chest ache, but knowing it was because of something I did only added to my guilt.
This was why I didn’t do relationships. I didn’t know how to deal with them, and I certainly wasn’t sensitive to other’s feelings. I wasn’t even in touch with my own emotions, so how the hell was I supposed to take care of Maeve’s?
As I made my way out of the bar and up the stairs to my apartment, I came to the conclusion that I could only be myself and just pray she would accept me. But I had to stop pussying around, too, and take back control of the situation. I wasn’t a great conversationalist, but I could show her I cared in my own way.
Heading to her bedroom, I listened at the door. Then I heard the shower in the bathroom turning on, and my head swiveled toward the noise. I moved to the door, reached out, and tried the handle.
Locked.
Sauntering into my room, I switched on my shower and jumped inside, quickly washing the day’s grime off my body. Then I jumped out, dried off, sprayed deodorant, and pulled on a pair of basketball shorts. My ears pricked up when I heard the shower in the main bathroom switch off, and I grinned to myself and began to count through the minutes. When I was sure Maeve had enough time to get back into her room, I made my move.
My stride was purposeful, my intent obvious in the set of my shoulders and the determination etched into my jaw. It was time for us to communicate, except there was only one way I knew how.
My wife was about to find out what it meant to be married to me. I just hoped that it didn’t blow up in my face.
There was no knock, no warning. Instead, I threw Maeve’s door open and strolled right on in.
Maeve’s shocked gasp was like a song to my ears, but I didn’t dwell on it. Instead, I prowled toward her, taking in her sleep shorts and tiny top that strained tight against her beautiful breasts.
“Time to talk,” I rasped.
She opened her mouth—probably with the intent to give me lip—then closed it again when she saw the look on my face. “Callum,” she whispered.
Jesus, even the way she breathed my name made my cock stir.
My hands raised to her hair, and I pulled out her ponytail, tossing the tie somewhere on the dresser. Then I stooped slightly, grabbed my wife under her ass, and lifted her onto my hips.
Her arms automatically went to my shoulders to steady herself. “W-what are you doing?”
“We’re gonna talk,” I grated out, carrying my wife over to the bed. “It’s time to get a couple of things straight.”
“I’m tired, and I’m pissed with you,” she protested. “Can we do it tomorrow?”
Stopping at the bed, I tipped her onto it, watching her land gently, her magnificent breasts bouncing prettily, and my mouth salivated. “No, we can’t fucking do it tomorrow.” I placed one knee on the mattress and crawled up the bed toward her, my stare catching hers and locking. “I need to show you.”
“Show me what?” Maeve demanded, a note of panic threading through her voice.
I gave her a predatory smile. “Who I belong to.”
The moment she comprehended my words, her eyes widened. “I just need to—I can’t.” She began to shuffle to the side of the bed.
Reaching out, I tagged her elbow and dragged her back, grinning as she let out a squeak, her eyes flashing as she breathed my name again.
“Callum.”
My cock throbbed.
Getting to my knees, my hands went to my waistband.
Maeve’s eyes rounded, and her cheeks pinked prettily.
“Look at me, Maeve.” I pushed my shorts down past my ass until my steel-hard cock sprang free.
Her eyes came to mine, full of confusion.
“Look at me,” I ordered again, gentler that time. “Look at me, baby. Really look at me.”
Her gaze swept down my body, taking in my shoulders, arms, and pecs before dipping to my stomach and lower. Her mouth slackened, and the tip of her tongue darted out to run across her bottom lip.
My cock pulsed even harder with the gesture.
“You haven’t touched me,” I pointed out.
Her head tipped back, and her eyes met mine again, her expression confused. “Is that what you want?”
“It’s everything I want, but not what I meant,” I murmured. “We haven’t kissed or made out. We haven’t touched each other in any way, but look at me.”
Her eyes traveled over me again, but that time lingered on the hardness of my nipples and my even harder cock before coming back to my face and searching deep.
“You don’t need to do anything to me, wife, and you still own me—you always have. There isn’t anybody else because there can’t be. I’m yours, my body, and everything inside. Every nerve, every muscle, every goddamned electrode knows it. Everybody around us sees it. Ma, my friends, my brothers. The only person who hasn’t got with the program yet is you.”
Tears filled her eyes. “You had your hands on her.”
Dipping my chin, I reached down and cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry, love.”
“You didn’t defend me to her,” she whispered.
My gut dropped at the note of pain in her tone. “I know. I was caught off guard. I didn’t expect or want her there, and I was so caught up in my own head and my own fuck-up, that her words didn’t even sink in. I panicked, Maeve. I’m not excusing it, baby. It was fucking stupid, but I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I’m so fucking sorry.”
“You keep blindsiding me,” she stated. “First Shannon and now Saskia. You have to start opening up to me more.”
My thumb stroked her porcelain skin. “I’ve always been a closed book. Never had to be any other way. But I’ll try harder, and I’ll do better. I’ll be better for you ‘cause you make it easy.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “That’s sweet.”
I grinned down at her. “You make being sweet easy too.”
Her fingertips came up to rest on my pecs. “I like your chest hair. It looks very manly.”
My grin widened. “You make having chest hair easy, too.”
She let out a cute as fuck giggle-snort, and I smiled with her. I couldn’t fucking help it; her joy was infectious.
Seeing Maeve so forlorn had affected me in ways I couldn’t understand. It was like my mood was tied to hers, and whatever emotion she was experiencing seeped under my skin and burrowed in deep. Being so in sync with a woman, for me, was like being abducted by aliens—i.e., I’d heard stories about it happening, but I’d never damn well experienced it myself.
My eyes flicked between my wife’s. “Forgive me, baby. Please, I’m begging you. I hate it when you’re mad at me. Everything seems wrong, and I feel sick.”
“I don’t know why I can’t stay angry with you for long.” Maeve shot me a pointed look. “Especially when you act like such an eejit.” She sighed. “I want Saskia gone. She’s out.”
“I’d already decided that, baby.”
“If she turns up here again, I’ll deal with her,” she muttered. “I’ll rip her fake hair out. And if I see you touch her in such an intimate way again, I’ll kick you in the goolies.”
“I won’t even speak to her again,” I vowed. “Please forgive me.”
“Okay, but this is your one and only chance. I can’t believe I let you sweet talk me. It must be the Irish gift of the gab you O’Shea boys seem to be so damned good at.”
I dropped down onto the bed beside her, my hand going to the back of her knee and hitching it over mine. “You make sweet talking easy,” I crooned before inching forward and touching my lips to hers.
Her fingers came up to my stubbled jaw. Cosmic-blue eyes stared deep into my soul, and she whispered, “You’re a beautiful man, Callum O’Shea. You’re easy on the eye, alright.”
My heart flipped over, and a warm feeling slid through my gut and settled into place.
That was when it hit me.
I loved my wife deeply, with every bone in my body and every breath in my lungs. And with every bone and every breath, I knew I’d love her forever.
A warm shiver drifted through me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up with the realization that it had finally happened to me. Cupid had fired his shot and struck me deep and true.
Jesus fuck, I was in love.
And nothing had ever felt more right.
My hand slid around her hip, and I tugged her against my body. Then, I leaned in and pressed my mouth to hers. Maeve’s warm, soft lips parted slightly, allowing my tongue to slip inside. She tasted of floral perfume and fruity cider, heady and sweet. I groaned my need for more into her mouth. Warmth radiated from me but not from my skin. It came from somewhere interred and more profound. It came from my soul.
My hands feverishly went to the hem of her little top and I wrenched my mouth away from hers, grinning as Maeve lifted her arms, making it easier for me to take it off. Tossing it somewhere behind me, I let out a deep growl and immediately latched my mouth onto a soft pink nipple.
Maeve whimpered, her back bowing off the bed. “That feels amazing,” she said with a groan.
Slowly, I traced the tip of my tongue around her areola before sucking her entire nipple back into my mouth, and my cock jumped as the air filled with her long, needy whimper. Maeve’s taste, her fragrance, everything about her sang to me. She made my blood rush in my veins and my pulse thrum from just being alive and close to her.
With a last lick, I released her nipple, leaned up and into her face, and growled, “Do you want me, wife?”
Another whimper filled the room followed by a whispered, “Yes.”
“Do you want my cock?” I demanded, my voice husky with need.
“Yes,” she repeated more confidently.
“No more running away,” I told her. “If the shit hits the fan, you stay, and we talk it out. All day, I’ve thought about getting my ass over to the salon, throwing you over my shoulder, bringing you home, and putting you over my fuckin’ knee.”
Her eyes gleamed. “Okay,” she acquiesced. “But no more secrets, either. If you’ve done anything that could blindside me, you need to tell me about it before somebody else does so I can deal.”
I touched my mouth to hers. “Promise.”
She beamed at me, and suddenly, all was right with the world again.
Knifing to a sitting position, I knee-walked to rest between her legs. “Spread your legs and show me what’s mine,” I demanded gruffly, pulling her sleep shorts down her legs and leaving her bared to me.
Her cheeks stained red, but I smiled inwardly, watching intently as she did as she was told and slowly parted her thighs.
My wife was beautiful everywhere. I admired her shapely legs, smooth skin, and the groomed strip of neatly trimmed blondish-red hair covering her pussy. A flash of soft pink followed, and I almost lost my shit there and then.
Reaching out to touch her, my fingertips skated gently over her clit, feeling like a fucking king when she let out a loud moan. “Gonna own this pussy, baby,” I muttered, gently fucking her with my finger.
She was as warm, tight, and so slick that my cock hardened to iron as I pushed my fingers deeper. She felt like heaven, all soft and wet and ready for my cock.
Her eyes dropped to half-mast with need, and she breathed, “More.”
I added another finger, sliding them in and out of her slick pussy, then twisted my hand so I could rub her clit with my thumb at the same time.
“Oh my God,” she whimpered, cheek still pressed to the pillow. “That feels incredible.”
My cock was fit to bursting, but I wanted to make her come and get her as ready for me as possible. I knew she’d used a toy on herself, but I was about to fuck her good and hard. “Come on my fingers, wife,” I rasped, rubbing harder, biting back a moan as Maeve circled her hips to seek more friction while making sexy little whimpers.
I thrust inside Maeve again and again until her walls fluttered. She came up on her elbows, looking down at the way I finger fucked her, and her hips writhed in pleasure. Her tight little pussy clenched my fingers hard, and she let out a low groan. She was seconds away from coming, and I needed to get ready because the sight of her lush body was driving me crazy.
Still working her with one hand, the other went to my cock, and I fisted it, watching her eyelids flutter, and her lips twist in pleasure. I leaned over her, settling between her legs, and pushed my cock inside all the way to the root, moaning low and heavy at the way her tight little cunt gripped me.
We responded so goddamned beautifully to each other. I wanted more than anything to feel Maeve’s pussy clenching my cock as she came, and it didn’t take long. After adding pressure to her clit and a few more gentle thrusts, she arched her back, and with her neck straining, she cried out into the ether as she came hard.
I buried my face in her throat, nipping and sucking and thrusting inside gently. I wanted to give her maximum pleasure, wanted her to feel me everywhere—her skin, her pussy, and her heart and soul. I was the first man to be inside her, and it had to be memorable, something she looked back on and smiled. I wanted to be that beautiful memory for her always.
Pushing her hands above her head, I grabbed behind Maeve’s knee and hitched her leg over my ass, then covering every inch of her body with mine, I began to grind firmly inside her. Her pussy contracted so hard I saw stars. “You’re so fucking tight, wife,” I grunted, slamming my cock inside her. “All mine, always.”
Maeve’s head twisted to one side, her eyes fluttering open as she came back down from her climax. I watched her beautiful breasts heaving with her heavy pants of breath and kissed the tips, making her nipples pebble.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “That was amazing.”
My mouth traveled up to gently bite her bottom lip, sucking it into my mouth while grinding harder, making sure to catch her sensitive clit every time I did a pass. Maeve’s hips jerked up to meet mine, spurring me on with her little gasps and whimpers. My hands cupped her ass, and I tilted it toward me to get access and go deeper.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Don’t stop.” She squeezed her walls hard around me, and I threw my head back and groaned, almost popping off like a geyser. Heat radiated through the bottom of my spine, and I knew I was about to come hard. I moaned with pleasure at the myriad of sensations ripping through me.
The pressure swept from my spine to my balls, and I cursed as they pulled up tight. Then, burying my face in Maeve’s neck, I roared as I came. “Jesus. Fuck, yes.” I moaned, pleasure completely taking over me while I thrust my cock deep, filling her with ropes of cum and rooting myself to her, emotionally as well as physically.
Eventually, my orgasm waned. Giving Maeve all my weight, I kissed the side of her neck. “You made me see stars.”
A satisfied noise escaped her throat, and she sighed, “Ditto.”
I crawled off her and settled at her back, spooning her for a few minutes while my hands sifted through her hair. “I’ve never come like that in my life, baby.” I swept her tresses away and kissed her nape gently, heart swelling with emotion. “Love you, wife.”
She murmured something unintelligible and let out a soft snore.
I went up on my elbow. “Maeve?”
Her breaths evened out and turned heavy.
Chuckling softly, I tucked her hips into mine, pulled the comforter over us, and snuggled my face into her soft, floral-scented hair, thinking how it had taken years for me to find a woman I could stand to be around for more than an hour.
Now I had, I’d never let her go.
Maeve was mine in every way now, and we had everything to look forward to. The bar, the brewery, our marriage, and all our smart, ginger-haired babies who weren’t gonna be eejits like their da.
Smiling wryly, I shook my head.
I couldn’t fucking wait to get on with it.