Chapter 30
CHAPTER 30
B etting the Odds
Dean
“You’re forty-four? Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” Mom says as she looks across the table at Ronan.
“Aye, I got lucky. Some say I know the location of the fountain of youth. I say the good Lord wanted to take the piss at my brothers. I looked a lot older than my age as a young lad, but the clock stopped somewhere after twenty.”
“Your brothers don’t look their ages either,” I snicker.
“Aye, if ya say so. I’m the best looking of the lot.”
“I love the confidence. It’s needed with Danny. If she lets you in, you’re lucky, but she won’t spare your feelings just because she cares about you,” Mom says.
“Ach, I’ve come to love that about her. I’m not a bullshitter and neither is she.”
“Okay, so I have a question for you. Danny will turn thirty-three this year. You are going to be forty-five. Do you want to have children?”
“ Mom .”
“It’s a legit question. You and Anika are my only daughters. Your sister has disappeared to God knows where, so you are my only option for becoming a grandmother. I need to know where his mind is.”
Ronan swallows hard and a distant look comes to his face. It happens so fast, but I catch it. It’s almost a look of longing or disappointment.
“Aye, I would like to be a father if that’s in the cards. Sometimes ya don’t know how much ya want something until it’s taken away.” He clears his throat then reaches to take a sip of his drink.
“Good, Danny froze her eggs earlier this year. There’s still hope.”
“Mom,” I growl.
That was something I wanted to share with him at another time, like the fact that I started birth control right after I froze them. There is a lot we still need to address as a couple. Although I know a lot more about him since sitting at this table.
“Girl, you’re dating to play. I’m helping you date this man for marriage. Hush up.”
I cover my face and groan as I sink down in my seat, feeling like I’m sixteen all over again. Ronan laughs and reaches to place his hand behind my neck to give it a gentle squeeze. I look at him and his eyes are sparkling.
See, I knew I didn’t need these two to meet; they have us married already. The problem is, I can see it too.
“Not everyone wants to get married, Mom.”
“I used to say the same thing. I think sometimes ya have to find the right person then the desire to be with them and only them comes.”
“Exactly, that desire needs to come quick around here. I’m not going to live forever. I want to see my baby girl walk down the aisle to someone who cares about her. Someone I can trust.”
“Nothing is wrong with that. A life spent with Danny would be one filled with love, laughs, passion, and adventure. Aye, a grand life that would be.”
“Perfect. It’s settled. You two can get married right here in Vegas and give this mother her dying wish.”
“Mom. I can’t with you right now. How the heck are you going to apply that kind of pressure to our relationship? There’s still so much we don’t even know about each other. He doesn’t want to marry me.”
“Aye, love. I do.”
I freeze and stop breathing as I slowly turn my head to look at him. He’s serious. There is a huge smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes.
“What are you talking about?” I ask with my brows knit.
“I told ya. You are mine. I wasn’t talking temporarily. My brother-in-law has this saying he has taught his boys. This life has taught me its truth. Lorg a h-uile duine leatha agus cùm i leat leat fhèin. ”
“That sounds beautiful. What does it mean?” my mother asks.
“Find her worthy and keep her for your own,” Ronan replies as he looks me in my eyes.
“It sounds like you two need to do some talking. I’m going upstairs to bed. I’m hopeful for a wedding in the next two days.”
With that, Mom gets up and leaves. I remain seated, trying to figure out what the fuck has happened today. My head is spinning.
“We can head to my suite and have a yarn,” Ronan leans into my ear to breathe.
“I think that would be best. I have a lot to tell you before you decide if I’m what you want.”
* * *
Ronan
I watch as Danika paces my hotel suite. She has kicked off her shoes and let her hair down and now she’s tugging at her locs, looking as if she’s trying to figure out some puzzle.
“Ach, love, yer going to wear a hole through the floor. Come sit and have a drink with me. We don’t have to rush,” I call as I pour two glasses of whiskey.
“We have so much we need to talk about. You don’t even know who I really am.”
I scoff. “Ya know I’m not an eejit. How do ya think I learned yer name? Where did ya think I got it from?”
She stops and chews on her lip as she gives me a doe-eyed expression. I hold up a glass for her to come and take. When she walks over and takes it from my hand, I grab her by the waist and tug her into my lap.
“I asked a friend who ya were after seeing ya in a photo in his office. I knew him and the other men in the photo. It was when he answered the question that I found out ya were the niece of a man I once called a good friend.”
“You knew Uncle Freddie. He was your friend who didn’t like talking about the past.” She pauses and narrows her eyes at me. “You’re the liaison for the Irish families. The one I’m not supposed to go find. He said to allow you to come to me.”
“What do ya mean?”
“He left me a letter with his will. Sort of a warning and instructions on what to do and what not to do in case of his untimely demise. He said the head boss would find me, or I would know when to find him. I’ve met him.”
“Are ya talking about … the Italian?”
“LaSalle, yes, him. I did him a favor, like Uncle Freddie said I would. That let me know it was the start.”
“Ya mean the Albanians. I was there, love. I enjoyed watching ya work.”
She furrows her brows. “Huh?”
“Bujar didn’t see either of us coming. I had been there to take care of him for you, but you were already coming out of the air when I pulled the trigger.”
“I thought I was tripping or something. When I went to carve the tat off, I noticed the wound. His head had been half mashed in, so I couldn’t be sure.”
“Ya cut his tat off?”
“Yeah, his and Dalmat’s. I had to send proof,” she says as if to say duh.
I grow hard and can’t help tugging her in for a passionate kiss. I kiss her roughly. Then I move my lips to her neck and begin a trail of open-mouthed kisses.
I reach into the keyhole of the dress she’s wearing and palm her breast to knead it. I groan as she gives back as good as she’s getting. Just when I’m about to lay her down and have my fill for the first time in over a week, she pulls back, breaking the kiss.
“Wait, hold on, baby. We’re getting off topic. We have time for all of that. I think you should know the rest.”
“Sorry,” I say, placing my forehead to hers. I then take a calming breath. “Go on. Tell me more about this letter.”
“After telling me LaSalle and I would find each other, he said two more things would happen and those would be signs too. One of those things was the liaison for the Irish families coming to me. He didn’t say how or when. However, he did give a cryptic message about being open to him when he found me.
“Holy shit. It all makes so much fucking sense now. Uncle Freddie knew me better than anyone. He knew you were the last thing I would expect.
“Relationships are a hard pass for me.” She palms her forehead and shakes her head. “This is insane. I don’t even know how he knew any of those things.
“I just trusted his word. I loved my uncle so much. His word was law. He’s the only man who I was able to trust who never hurt me in return.”
“Phoebe Romaine.”
“Huh? Who?”
“She’s a Gypsy. She’s been the fortuneteller for the underworld for years. She has her favorites. Your uncle was one of them. Ach, but why didn’t she tell him about …”
“That he was going to die suddenly? He did know. The letter said as much. In his words, ‘everything needs to play out just as it is.’”
“Aye, Phoebe usually tells us so—unless it’s meant to be changed. To alter what she tells us is to alter the outcome. That usually involves more than just the person she gives the warning to.”
“Where do we go from here? I mean, you know who I am and what I do. I take it you’re no slouch if you’re the point man for the entire Irish syndicate.
“Something big is coming and I’m meant to be in the middle of it. I don’t want that to come between us. I want to get to know the real you and I want you to know the real me.”
“Danny, I already know ya. I know yer funny, loving, kind, crazy, and savage when necessary. Ya love blueberries in yer waffles but not yer pancakes.
“Ya don’t like to sleep hot, but ya get angry when I roll away for ya to cool off. Ya follow and snuggle right into me, but keep making this annoyed sound when ya heat up again.
“Ya get annoyed when I lose my accent for ya, but get frustrated when I speak too fast and use too many Irish colloquialisms. Ya have a quick mind, so ya figure it out because ya want to understand me the way I am, not a watered-down version.
“Yer a badass, but ya need the time when you get to be vulnerable with me. That’s why it turns ya on when I get dominant with ya.
“Ya write with passion, but ya also write to warn others that our world isn’t a playground for the weak. Ya don’t glorify what we do, but teach through it instead. It’s almost a love letter to yer innocence.
“Not that ya regret who ya are. I believe ya regret what ya have lost. Yer uncle, a few of yer businesses, people ya thought were friends. I wish I had the talent to do what ya do.
“Getting to know ya has changed so much for me. I know ya, Danika. I see ya,” I say as I look into her eyes.
“You read my books? You got all of that from reading my words? I always assume all of that goes over everyone’s heads, but you get me.”
“I get ya because I love ya.”
I’m not expecting her to say it back, but she shocks me when she releases a heavy breath before she drains her glass then takes mine from my hand and empties it as well. She then turns for the bottle, moving from my lap to the floor, where she begins to drink straight from the bottle itself.
I chuckle and lean to kiss her neck as I wrap my arms around her. She’s trembling in my embrace. I kiss the top of her head.
“Talk to me, love. What are ya thinking?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know how to feel or what to say. I’m on information overload.
“I’ve had the wind knocked out of me a few times today. I’m an author lost for words,” she snorts and downs more liquor.
“Then we don’t have to talk for now. Instead, we drink. When yer ready to talk, we’ll talk. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thanks, you don’t know how much I needed to hear those words.”
* * *
Dean
“Oh my God, you and Cass were little terrors,” I say through my laughter.
I’ve been listening to Ronan tell stories about his childhood and laughing my ass off while we get shit-faced. This seems to be a safe topic. Ronan has frozen up on me a few times tonight.
It might be my drunken mind, but I think it’s mostly when I ask about children and women in his past. I haven’t pushed. We’re slowly doing something we should have done a long time ago.
I don’t know the last time I got this drunk. I needed this. My mother’s revelations didn’t erase my fears immediately—they enhanced them.
Hearing Ronan tell me he loves me didn’t help change anything. It only shook me to my core. I love him too.
In fact, I’m madly in love with him. I had no idea he read my books and had seen me through them. The more we talk, the more I’m letting my guard down and finding I know him as well.
Now that I’ve allowed the blinders to fall off, I can admit to the things I’ve known all along. Ronan couldn’t be a better match for me. However, there’s still the elephant in the room.
My mother wants us to get married. She said it’s her dying wish. My heart hurts every time I think of her words.
“Yer doing it again. Where does yer mind keep going, love?”
I sigh and go to have another drink, but the bottle is empty. I look around at all the others we’ve finished and my shoulders sag. The answers haven’t been at the bottom of any of these.
“What if she’s gone before I can figure out what to do? I only froze my eggs because of her. I’m okay with never being a mother. Look at me? What kind of mom would I be?”
He sits silent for a moment. There goes that look again. I can’t help but wonder what he’s holding back.
“Ach, you would be an amazing mother. If that’s what you want … you would be amazing at it. I believe all your mother wants is for you to be happy.”
“No, no, no. Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Lose your accent. I need your logic to come out whimsical,” I slur.
He laughs at me and grabs a pillow from the sofa to throw at me. “Yer langered. It’s time for bed. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
“Nope. I’m not ready for bed.” I throw my arms over my head as I lie on my back on the floor and sigh. “Come on, Ronan. Can’t you see this is destiny? What are the chances with all the hotels here on this strip that you would be in mine, and I would run right into you?”
“What are ya saying, love? I think yer having half this conversation with yerself. Care to let me in on the rest?”
He’s right, my drunken mind has been rambling without including him in the conversation. I mean, why not take advantage of being here in Vegas? Mom and I are booked to be here for another four days.
If I got married here, that’s one less thing Mom would have to worry about. She can focus on her health and not on me and my love life. I might not be able to do anything about the baby situation, but I can give her a son-in-law.
“Besides, you said you love me, and I know I love you. The sex is amazing. Maybe we should get married, you know?”
Instead of answering my question, I end up with a drunken Ronan on top of me, devouring my lips. He pins my wrists above my head and settles between my legs. We’re all lips, tongue, and teeth as we trade passion for passion.
“Say it again,” he breathes when he breaks the kiss and presses his nose to mine.
“Say what?”
“Say ya love me.”
“Oh, did I say that out loud?” I reply and blink up at him.
“Yes, ya did. Say it again.”
“ Um , I have an idea. Let’s make a bet. If you can get me to say it again tonight and in the morning, then we get married. But only if you can get me to say it.”
“Aye, I do believe yer drunk. Ya know yer the loser in these odds. I get what I want either way.”
I pout. “You don’t want to be my husband?”
“Aye, love. I want to be yer husband in the worst way, but we’ll see how ya feel in the morning.”
“A bet is a bet. If you win. I’m yours. We’ll get married. You have my word.”
“Then I’ll be calling me ma to get on a plane to be here by tomorrow.”
I laugh. “I haven’t said it yet.”
“Oh, love, but ya will. I promise ya will.”