Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
MAEVE
A warm hand swept my hair from my nape, and soft lips kissed me there. I smiled as a shiver scattered down my spine, and a sweet ache pulsed between my thighs.
“You okay, wife?” my husband’s voice rumbled softly against my skin.
Twisting my head, I kissed his square, stubbled jaw, catching the scent of fresh laundry and the faint peppery hint of cologne on his skin, and whispered, “I’m grand.”
His dark blue eyes caught mine, and I blushed at the intensity swirling inside them.
Ever since we made love for the first time, we hadn’t been able to keep our hands off each other. It was like Callum O’Shea had awakened something in me, and now I was aware of how glorious he could make me feel. I needed his touch on me constantly, or else my bones felt cold.
I walked around in a thick sex fog, made even murkier by my brain getting more muddled whenever my husband came close. I’d read about body betrayal syndrome on forums and in book groups before but never really got it. Now I did, except it didn’t feel like my body was betraying me. On the contrary, it felt like my body had finally woken up and seen the truth because nothing felt more honest than when my husband touched me.
We had sex all the time, in bed, in the shower, and in his office. We even got carried away in the bar once and had to hurriedly pull our clothing straight when Maureen (luckily) called our names out from the back hall on her arrival. Donny constantly muttered about the sexual tension in the air and how certain people should ‘get a room.’
I’d blush, and then I’d catch my husband giving me a loaded, sexy, dark, wild look. My clitoris would throb, my nipples would harden, and I’d feel my cheeks go red. It was like walking on a knife edge, and we were always ready to gallop up the stairs to the apartment and fall onto and into each other like we hadn’t touched for months, when in fact, it had been just hours, or even in some cases, minutes and seconds.
“Tea break’s over,” Donny called out from where he’d been furiously texting one of his babes from a stool at the bar. He had a bottle of the pilsner I’d freshly brewed in front of him, as well as a cup of Barry’s breakfast tea that Maureen had made while we worked. Still texting with his thumb, he mindlessly picked the bottle up and took a swig before pushing out a satisfied breath.
“This stuff’s gonna make a rummy outta me,” he muttered, nodding to his beer.
“It’ll make a rummy out of all of us the rate we guzzle it,” Callum replied, taking a swig from his bottle. “It’s fantastic.”
I waggled my eyebrows playfully. “I’m hoping the cider will make a rummy out of all the ladies in town, too.”
“It will out of Atlas,” Callum murmured, leaning down and kissing my forehead. “He was here again this morning buying more carry-outs.”
I laughed softly, not only about Atlas but also because Callum’s forehead kisses were the best thing ever. “He’ll make us our fortunes before we even open. I love how supportive he is.”
Callum’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “He wouldn’t be so supportive if the new booze was shit, baby. The man knows and loves his drink, so if it gets his seal of approval, then rest assured, you’ve done a bang-up job.”
My belly went warm and gooey. “How sweet,” I murmured up at Callum, my breath catching as his face lowered to mine.
“Not as sweet as your tight little pussy tasted this morning,” he whispered so only I could hear, his mouth touching mine before he gently sucked my bottom lip.
Donny cleared his throat pointedly from the bar, and I heard him mutter, “Jesus.”
I couldn’t stop the giggle bubbling up through my chest.
“Alright, alright,” Callum grumbled. “You can stop your whining. Come on, let’s get this done.”
Donovan got to his feet, raised his arms in the air, and stretched his muscles, letting out an appreciative groan. “Can’t believe the big day’s nearly here. Seems like it’s gone by in a flash. Have you got the staff all sorted for tomorrow night?”
“Yeah. I’m organizing the bar, you the door, Tadhg the floor. Maeve and Ash will cover breaks and go wherever there’s a gap. We’ve got Adam and Troy tending the bar. Laura, Frankie, and Meg are on the tables with Hayley and Brianne on the floor. They’ve all been in for their rosters, and their new uniforms fit.”
“I think those bar tees will fly out,” Donovan muttered. “Especially when the patrons see the Shamrock girls wearing them. Another genius idea from our Maeve. I should’ve thought of it, we used to see them sell out every year in the European resorts when we vacationed there.”
“I love the branding on them,” I concurred. “That sage green is right on trend. It screams Ireland, but it’s got a modern twist. It’ll do well?—”
The main door opened with a bang, and a woman’s voice screeched, “Callum!”
My head whipped around to see Saskia stomping into the bar, her face purple and her eyes flashing. Her long, black, poker-straight hair was mussed, and her lips were outlined in a thick, bright red. Even her clothes were wrinkled. She wore a tiny leather skirt and a stretchy strapless top with sky-high heels. It looked like she’d been partying all night and was doing the walk of shame.
My belly lurched.
As much as she looked a mess, she still looked hot. I could appreciate what Callum saw in her; she was very sexy, if a little obvious with it.
Callum’s arm slid across my shoulders, and he drawled, “Didn’t you get the letter?”
Saskia glared at him and leaned forward, waving a piece of paper in the air, and yelled, “Oh, I got it alright. You can’t do this.”
Donovan shook his head.
I sighed.
Callum had met with Kennedy the day after our argument. She’d agreed with us and written to Saskia to terminate her employment. There was no law to say that Callum and Saskia couldn’t have a relationship despite him being her boss, and even though there were also laws to protect her, Callum had proof that she’d caused problems at work even before he’d dumped her.
The staff had overheard her screaming and shouting, being inappropriate, and threatening him on more than one occasion, and they were prepared to testify to that. Seemed that Saskia wasn’t very nice to her colleagues and had used her relationship with the boss to make people swap shifts with her and cover her hours—something that he knew nothing about and would never have condoned. Since Callum had closed the bar, all the staff had been getting full pay still, including Saskia, as he had every intention of bringing them all back, but her last stunt in his office was the final straw.
Kennedy was ready to file a restraining order against her if she caused any more problems, so Saskia was finally reaping what she’d sown.
“If you got the letter, why are you here?” he asked. “It says you shouldn’t come within ten feet of the place.”
She sneered, her eyes narrowing to take in the way Callum’s arm was slung over my shoulder and how he’d pulled my body into a position slightly behind him to protect me.
Spite filled Saskia’s expression, and I knew instantly what was about to come.
“So this is who you dumped me for,” she noted, her tone steely. Cold eyes flicked down my body, and she let out a snort. “I must say, I expected more.”
I felt Callum’s body lock, then his arm tightened around my shoulder. He pulled me closer so my body angled into his. “Your bitterness is showing, woman. Stop embarrassing yourself. In fact, do yourself a favor and go home.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re so predictable, Callum. You’ve always been the same. Once you’re done, you suddenly lose the same charm you used to get me and all the other girls into your bed. You weren’t telling me to fuck off a few months ago when you were begging me to ride your big Irish dick.”
Her words sliced through me.
“Didn’t need to beg you for shit, Sass,” Callum shot back, his tone bored. “You fell on your back with your legs in the air the second I crooked my finger, the same way you did for Donovan and the rest of the boys in town. Don’t act as if I did you wrong. You knew what it was, or rather, you knew what it wasn’t.”
I blinked.
Huh?
She leaned forward, her face twisting spitefully. “You didn’t care about my past when you were balls deep inside me.”
Callum leaned threateningly toward her while moving me further away. “Didn’t know you’d had Donovan then. You think I could ever get serious about a girl who’d already fucked my brother?”
Her lips turned pouty, and she put on a fake baby voice. “Whassamatter, Callum. Is your pride hurt?”
“I’m not the one creating petty drama over no-strings sex,” he bit out. “Honestly, I couldn’t give a fuck about you. I married the girl I wanted. Accept the fact that girl wasn’t you and move on. Like I already said, your bitter’s showing, and frankly, Sass, it makes you look like an ugly bitch.”
“You’re an asshole,” she spat.
“Never pretended anything else, unlike you,” he shot back. “Now get the fuck outta my bar, and don’t come back.”
She let out a harrumph , tossed her hair, and twirled around to face the door. “I don’t need this place anyway. I’ve been offered a job at the Kings of Anarchy clubhouse. Pagan liked the look of me when I went to Carbine’s gig there,” she threw back, strutting toward the exit.
Donovan watched her storm down the street through the bar’s windows. “I give it three months before she’s whoring for them.”
“Couldn’t give a fuck as long as she’s not darkening our door.” Callum turned me in his arms and lifted my chin with his forefinger. “You okay, wife?”
“Yeah,” I assured him. “I knew the showdown wouldn’t be nice. I just didn’t expect Saskia to be so angry. She must’ve really liked you.”
“She didn’t,” Donovan called over. “She just liked screwing the boss.”
Callum rolled his eyes. “Thanks, bro.”
“I almost feel bad for her,” I murmured. “I don’t like to see a sister in pain, even if she is a raging bitch. You were pretty mean to her.”
“Not until she acted like a cunt to you,” he pointed out. “She can say what she likes about me, I probably deserve it, but you don’t.”
“Awww,” I crooned. “Look at you being all chivalrous and protective. Any more exes I need to watch my back with?”
He grimaced. “Probably, but if any more crawl outta the woodwork, I’ll warn ya so you can get your armor at the ready.” He scrunched his face up playfully. “Sorry, baby.”
I puffed out an exasperated breath. “It’s okay. It’s not like I didn’t have any warning this time.”
Callum’s mouth twisted into a sexy smirk. “I’ll make it up to ya later.”
My eyebrow cocked seductively. “Yeah?”
His fingers curled around my hip, and he tugged me into his hard body, tipping his face toward mine and drawling, “Oh yeah.”
“Put Maeve down and get back to work,” Donny called over. “You’re opening tomorrow, and there’s hardly any fuckin’ furniture in the place.”
I felt my cell buzz from my pocket, and I went to fish it out while Callum retorted, “Alright, alright.”
I opened my notifications to see a message from Tristan:
Your dress just arrived. Come for a fitting and tell Uncle Trissy why Saskia just marched down the street with a face like she’d been sucking lemons instead of dick. Cracking the wine open now. Cara and Doe are here. Come!!! Stat!!!
I gave a little whoop and turned to grab my coat from a stool. “My dress for tomorrow is at the salon. I have to go try it on.”
Callum smirked. “Take pictures.”
“Nope,” I refused playfully, popping the P. “It’s a surprise. You won’t see it until tomorrow.”
“It’s like getting wed all over again,” he muttered.
“Sweet baby Jesus, don’t say that.” I gave a little shudder. “I hope this dress is better than that one.”
Callum chuckled before his eyes turned serious. “I’ll give Ned a quick call and tell her what just happened. We should record Saskia’s visit in case she makes any more trouble. Remember, she said we need to keep a paper trail.”
“Good idea.” I shrugged my coat over my shoulders. “Do you want me to bring coffee back?”
Donny held up his beer, his eyes still glued to his cell. “I’m good with this, thanks.”
“Same,” Callum agreed, walking me to the exit and opening the door for me.
“Call me if you change your mind,” I told him, walking into the street.
“Miss you,” my husband called after me.
I laughed, craning my neck to steal a final glance.
Callum O’Shea’s maleness hit me square in the chest the same way it always did.
He leaned his shoulder against the door jamb, one leg casually crossed in front of the other, his muscles straining against his dark blue tee as he crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a look loaded with pure sex. “Later, wife,” he shouted after me.
My pussy clenched.
Hubba hubba!
I waved enthusiastically, unable to tear my gaze away from my sexy husband.
His body jerked, and then he pointed and opened his mouth to say something else just as I marched smack-bang into something solid and warm.
Reeling backward, my arms began to wheel out at my sides as I tried to find my balance when a hand grabbed my shoulder to steady me.
“Careful there, pretty lady,” a deep voice warned, full of humor.
My eyes lifted to see the same man who’d turned up for us at the Kings of Anarchy clubhouse with Cash.
“Oh,” I cried. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” then for some unknown, idiot reason, I continued talking, even though I should’ve shut my big mouth, “I was perving on my husband. He looked so damned hot I almost passed out.” My eyes rounded, and I murmured, “Oh God.”
The man, Abe, threw his head back and busted out a laugh. “Believe me. I’ve walked into many a wall or lamp post perving on my sexy wife, so I get ya, sweetheart.”
I grinned up at him. “Sorry.” Then I turned to give Callum a wave to show him I was okay.
Laughing softly, my hubby shook his head and grinned before giving me a chin lift and going back inside.
“Cal’s as smitten as you,” Abe murmured, smiling down at me fondly.
“Do you really think so?” I asked hopefully. “I mean, we’re a bit of an unlikely couple, but we get on well.” My gaze slid back to the door of the bar, then to Abe again. “We’re turning out to be a great team.”
“You two are lucky,” he said thoughtfully. “Could’ve gone the other way. Often, when two people are forced to be together, the resentment alone could pile on enough pressure for everything to implode. I’m happy Callum saw what he had in you. Sometimes, what you think will be the worst thing that can happen turns out to be the best. It did in his case, anyway.”
My body tensed, and my forehead creased questioningly.
Forced together?
What was he talking about?
“Ahh, there she is,” Abe declared, just as the bell rang over the door of the coffee shop and a beautiful lady walked out. She had long, stylish grey hair and a lovely smile that she immediately directed at Abe, but what struck me the most were her piercing turquoise eyes.
“Maeve, this is my wife, Iris,” he said proudly, pulling the woman toward him and sliding an arm around her waist. “Rissy, this is Callum’s new wife, Maeve.”
She stuck her hand out while grinning at me broadly. “I’ve been waiting to meet you. The girls,” she leaned forward as if she was about to share a secret, “and Atlas haven’t stopped talking about how amazing you are. You know he’s addicted to that cider you’ve brewed. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was an alcoholic.”
“Straight up,” Abe agreed.
“That’s amazing!” I exclaimed, shaking her hand effusively. “Well, not the alcoholic part, but the girls' part.” I jerked my thumb toward the salon. “I’m just on my way to see Tristan, Layla, and Cara now. My dress for our big opening night tomorrow has arrived.”
“Ahh,” Iris murmured knowingly. “And Tristan’s going to work his magic on all you girls, no doubt, not that you need it. Well, I’m sure I’ll hear all about your big night. It’s already the talk of the town.”
I cocked my head. “Are you not coming?”
“We’re a bit old for opening nights. We leave it to the younger ones, and anyway, I’m looking after all the kids. We’re having a massive sleepover. We’ve got baking and movies planned, and Abe’s helping the boys tinker with their bikes.”
“Sounds awesome.” I smiled.
“I’ll call Maureen to arrange a coffee morning, and we’ll catch up,” she suggested. “You can tell me all about yourself.”
“I’d love that!” I cried, glancing over my shoulder when I heard a familiar voice call out, “ Cooooeeeeeee!” from down the street. Tristan stood at the door of the salon, waving at me. “Wine’s poured,” he yelled.
Turning back to Iris and Abe, I smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I better go. The hair genius is waiting for me.”
Iris patted my hand. “You get in the warmth. And make sure you enjoy your party tomorrow.”
I gave them both a quick hug goodbye and picked my way along the icy sidewalk toward the salon, pulling the lapels of my coat together to ward off the cold air.
Everybody in this town was so nice and friendly—well, mostly everybody. Girls like Saskia weren’t so great but if she was about to move up to Coal Creek, at least I wouldn’t have to see her sour face anymore. Still, I wasn’t lying when I told Callum I felt a little bad for her. Losing Callum O’Shea would be a blow for any woman, and Saskia was obviously no exception.
My husband was a catch.
A small thrill ran through me at that word, husband . Accepting Callum’s proposal was turning out to be the best decision I ever made, even after we had such a rocky start. That was when Abe’s words flashed through my mind.
‘Often, when people are forced together, the resentment alone could pile enough pressure for everything to implode .’
The thrill in my belly turned to acid.
What did he mean by that? Nobody forced me to marry Callum. It wasn’t my idea, but I’d readily agreed to it.
It occurred to me that I never asked my husband what he’d told his friends about our marriage and how we got together. In our circles, it was common for people to meet through their parents or even be introduced by family in the hope they’d hit it off.
Patrick’s line of work especially lent itself to arranged marriages, if only to secure alliances and build connections. Patrick’s wedding to Orla was arranged, the same as Shannon’s and Erin’s would be. Mine wasn’t really any different. It started as a convenience for both of us. Callum needed a wife to keep Maureen off his back, and I needed to get out of New York. However, nobody forced it onto us.
Still, I couldn’t get rid of the heavy feeling settling in the pit of my belly.
Something wasn’t adding up.
I’d gotten to know Maureen and was sure she’d love her boys whether they had wives or not, so I couldn’t help wondering if there was more to Callum’s explanation. Was Abe aware of something I wasn’t? Or was my marriage just the subject of the town gossips who’d put two and two together and eventually came up with five?
Something kept nagging at me. Abe’s words just didn’t ring true. They didn’t match reality as I knew it. What did he mean by ‘forced’?
How weird.
My belly pitched, but I knew I’d have to put the feelings of uneasiness to one side. We had a big day tomorrow, and I’d be too busy to get caught up in solving this particular mystery, but mark my words, solve it I would, and soon.
They didn’t call me the queen of research for nothing; plus, shit seemed to have a habit of hitting the fan when it came to my marriage and my (sometimes) eejit husband.
“You okay,” Tristan asked as I approached the salon.
“Fine,” I said decisively. “Just rushed off my feet. It’ll be nice to have a glass of wine, squeal over my dress, and just chill for a while.”
Tristan ushered me inside the salon. “He’s beside himself,” Layla called over. “The dress envy is real.”
“Really?” I breathed, walking over and greeting her with a hug.
Cara looked up from her place on a chair by reception, where she lounged back, reading a magazine. “It’s gorgeous.”
“I’m so excited,” Tristan declared, holding his hands together. “Maeve, it’s perfect. You’ll look like a princess. Take a seat, and we’ll do a color match against your hair.”
Shrugging off my coat, I hung it up and took a seat at Tristan’s usual chair, nervously biting my lip. “Hope it doesn’t clash. My shade of ginger can be weird; people think green suits me, and it does, but only certain ones. Some look awful.”
“Trust me,” Tristan breathed, going to reception and leaning over the counter to pull out a large white box. “You’ll look incredible . Uncle Trissy’s gonna wave his magic wand and turn you into a Cinderella going to the opening night ball, though at least with me, you won’t have a midnight curfew.” He went to a big chair, rested the box on it, and opened the top, pulling out a swathe of the most beautiful pale sage-green material.
My hands flew to my mouth. “Oh my God.”
Cara looked on approvingly. “Told ya.”
“It really is pretty, Maeve,” Layla assured me.
Tristan almost skipped toward me, placing the material under my chin and gently removing my glasses.
My complexion glowed, and my hair seemed to take on an almost burnt copper hue. My skin came to life. Even my cheeks and lips seemed a shade pinker than usual. But it was my eyes that really shocked me. The mix of cool blue and green in my irises gleamed from my face.
“Color theory at its best,” he said, giving me a satisfied nod. “I love your glasses, they’re sooo Zooey Deschanel in her New Girl era, but I think for the party, we need to change it up.”
Layla walked to the coat rack, took a clothes hanger off it, and walked back toward us. “Don’t wrinkle it, Tristan. Here, I’ll hang it up, and we’ll keep it in the back storeroom. I assume you’re getting ready here with us tomorrow, Maeve.” She carefully hung the dress, ensuring it was secure on the clothes hanger, and I got a proper look at it at last.
“Yeah,” I whispered, unable to tear my gaze away from the beautiful satin-like material. “Do you think I can pull it off? It’s giving Disney Princess vibes.”
“ Sexy Disney Princess,” Tristan corrected. “And, of course you can pull it off. You’re our quintessential modern-day Cinderella.”
I burst out laughing. “Hardly.”
He leaned his hands on the back of my chair and dipped his chin, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “Our princess's beautiful mother passes away young. Check. Her guardian’s married to an evil cow, and she gets stuck with two wicked bitch stepsisters. Check and check. Evil cow and wicked bitches dress her in rags. Check.” He leaned his face toward mine and waggled his eyebrows. “One day, her hair genius Fairy Godfather waves his magic wand, gives her a keratin treatment, and helps her bring out the beauty she always had within. Check. Then, her Fairy Godfather turns her rags into a beautiful princess dress using his magic color theory wheel. Check. The handsome playboy prince falls madly in love with her and is instantly reformed. Check. She lives happily ever after. Check, check, check.” A smug look washed over his face. “See? Cinder-fucking-rella.”
“As absolutely ridiculously cheesy as it is, Maeve, it’s totally giving Cinderella,” Cara agreed, flicking through her magazine.
“It so totally does,” Layla agreed.
“Not Cinderella,” Tristan argued. “Cinder- fucking -rella. Our princess has an edge.”
My lips tipped up. “Thanks!”
“I can’t wait for tomorrow.” He clapped his hands together excitedly. “Cruise is coming down with Pagan and Bootneck.”
My smile widened. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Meh.” He waved nonchalantly. “It’s casual. I think he’s more of a good-time boy than a long-time boy, but I’ll take it.”
“We thought that about Callum,” Cara pointed out. “But look at him now. All wifed up and from what I’m told, not hating it at all, so don’t write Cruise off just yet.”
I sat forward, nodding my agreement. “If Cruise sees what we see, you may find he wants more than just a good time.”
“Hmm. We’ll see,” Tristan murmured, not sounding at all convinced. Then, he leaned down to my eye level. “But in the meantime, let’s knock Callum’s socks off tomorrow. We’ll show him how our Cinder-fucking-rella has turned from a princess into a goddamned queen !”
I smiled, suddenly caught up in Tristan’s infectious excitement, and all my doubts from earlier suddenly melted away until I was left with one word floating through my mind.
Squee!