Chapter 5 #2
Her eyes narrowed. “What exactly are you expecting to happen? Dinner or...” She lowered her voice sexily and waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Dinner?”
A chuckle left my throat. “I’m expecting dinner.”
She popped her hip slightly and declared, “Just so you know, I swore allegiance to my vibrator.”
“Say what now?” The words settled in, and my eyebrows hit my hairline. “What was that about a vibrator?”
“I swore allegiance to it, you know, like you swear allegiance to the flag, but I did it to my vibrator. I held a ceremony and everything.”
My lips twitched, and I murmured to myself, “I can’t fucking wait to hear this one.”
She slapped my arm lightly. “Stop teasing me.”
“Tease you?” I shot back. “You’re the one talking about damned vibrators. Jeez.” I dipped my head. “Now, tell me all about it, Posy. When you swore allegiance and held your ceremony, were you like, using it?”
“Ugh,” she exclaimed, slapping me again. “You’re incorrigible. My point is, I’m not sleeping with you on the first date.”
“But we’ve already done it,” I protested. “It’s a bit late to start clutching your pearls now. I’ve tasted you, and I gotta say, you’re the sweetest thing I've ever had.”
“Work for it then,” she demanded.
I nuzzled her neck with my nose and smiled against her soft, perfumed skin. “Oh, I’ll work for it, alright. I’ll lay you down, spread those soft, pretty thighs, and—”
“Ugh,” a gruff voice rumbled. “It’s too early for this shit.”
Rosie jerked away from me and snapped, “Stop saying shit,” before greeting, “Morning, Son. Coffee?”
Releasing my hold on my girl, my eyes cut across the room to see DJ with his head down, eyes half-mast, lurching toward a stool. He sank his ass down, bent forward, and laid his cheek on the countertop. “Yeah, please.”
Ro cocked an eyebrow. “As you can see, my son’s quite the morning person.
I’m surprised we didn’t hear his dulcet tones earlier as he sang a jaunty tune out of his bedroom window, while the local wildlife gathered around and joined in with the dawn chorus.
I hear he loves the chicks, especially, though not the feathered variety. ”
“Mom!” DJ grumbled, his head still on the countertop. “Stop being a goof.”
Rosie stuck her tongue out at him.
“What’s for breakfast?” he asked.
“You want eggs and bacon?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he sighed happily, his tired gaze lifting to mine. “Was gonna come down to the gym later and work out.”
“After your chores,” Rosie interjected,
DJ’s head hit the counter again, and he muttered, “Right.”
She turned toward the stove, reached down, and pulled open the pan drawer. “You gonna talk to your dad today, Son?”
“Nope.”
“You can’t ignore him forever,” she insisted gently.
“Yeah, I can,” he bit back. “He’s a rat bastard.”
She twisted her neck to face her son. “Stop saying bastard.”
DJ stayed silent.
“You making coffee or what?” Rosie asked me.
I passed her the one that was ready and loaded another pod. After I made DJ’s java and then my own, I walked around the counter and took the seat next to the kid, cup in hand.
“What are your plans today?” I asked her.
She went to the fridge and took the eggs and bacon out before closing the door with her hip and walking back to the stove with them. “I have to get some work moving again. A girl’s gotta hustle.”
“Like I told you yesterday, I could use some help with my accounts. I’m not the most organized guy when it comes to office work, and numbers turn my brain to mush.”
“I can do that,” she agreed. “I may get some cards printed up and pass them around the businesses in town. If I could get my own gig going, I could work it around the kids and school. It would be much easier.”
“Might be worth having a word with the club, too,” I suggested.
“Bowie’s always complaining that Arrow’s more interested in the tech side of things than the accounts.
Their payroll’s always late, and last month, they found a shit load of invoices that hadn’t been sent out for building work they’d completed months before. They could probably use some help.”
“Atlas mentioned it,” she murmured. “But I thought he was making it up because he felt bad for me and wanted to throw me a bone.”
“Definitely not, baby. Between all their businesses, they’ve probably got enough work to keep you busy for a few days a week.
My gym will take up some time, too. It needs a complete reorganization, seeing as my current system is nonexistent.
I get an invoice and I pay it, but nothing's filed properly. I’d be fucked if the IRS came to check my shit. ”
“What accounts software do you use?” she asked, placing bacon on the griddle to cook.
I grimaced. “It’s a system called stuff it in a drawer and pray.”
“Right,” she grumbled, cracking an egg into the pan.
“So that’s my first job. Migrate everything over to Xero.
Once it’s on there, you’ll find it easier to keep on top of everything, and you won’t need to worry so much about paperwork.
I’ll contact your clients and ask them to email copy invoices and receipts so everything’s there in case you ever get audited. ”
“I have a computer set up in my office and a filing cabinet, but that’s about all there is. I tried to load a program once, but I forgot the password, and it locked me out. Never bothered after that.”
She blinked at me with her spatula in hand as the bacon sizzled in the pan. “Wow. I admire your commitment to carnage. It’s very you.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, sipping my coffee with a small smile. “It’s a gift.”
DJ let out a snort.
Rosie rolled her eyes before turning back to the stove and taking the bacon out of the skillet, placing it on some paper towels. She served the eggs and bacon and put a plate in front of me and DJ before going back to the stove and placing the leftovers in the warming section, no doubt for Gabby.
“Thank you, baby,” I murmured, watching as she picked up her coffee and leaned forward on the countertop, taking a leisurely sip.
“Yeah, thanks, Mom,” DJ said, tucking into his eggs.
Her eyes softened on her boy, and then they swung to me and turned to liquid. “Eat up,” she ordered gently. “It’ll get cold.”
Picking up my fork, I shoveled a spoonful of eggs into my mouth, grinning at the sight of Rosie’s fantastic tits spilling onto the counter.
I began to think about the banter, the jokes, the smiles, and the easy conversation. And finally, Rosie walking around in a teeny tiny PJ set, with no bra in sight, whatso-fucking-ever, and that body...
I smiled as my inner voice whispered, A man could get used to this.
—————
As much as I wanted to stay around and enjoy the Rosie show, I ate my breakfast, told her to be ready for seven, then drove to the gym to check on things, shower, and change.
What I really wanted was for us to shower together so I could lather up that hot little body of hers, but I told her I’d work for it, and I would.
My gym was my pride and joy. It had taken me and Callum months to refurbish the place, and we’d done a stand-up job.
Most gyms had the clean, white aesthetic going on, but mine wasn’t like that at all.
The walls were painted a slate grey, which complemented the slick, modern equipment I’d had brought in.
The huge windows, which took up the upper half of the walls, let in so much sunlight that it stopped the place from looking dull.
My gym was dark, chrome, sleek, and sexy, and I got a thrill from it every time I walked through the doors.
I’d never owned much in my life. Never had a house or anything of any value.
It was only recently that I’d even bought myself a truck.
Military life was transient, so I never knew where I’d be from one year to the next.
If I were honest, that was the attraction at the time.
I wanted excitement, and a life that would challenge me, and it was how I’d been able to save a fuck ton of money and buy the gym outright, with just the help of a small business loan to cover the refurbishment.
The place did well; it wouldn’t make me a millionaire any time soon, but I wasn’t hurting for cash. Memberships and my personal training sideline brought in a nice chunk of change, and when I got the exercise classes going, the place would perform even better.
I’d even spoken to Tristan about making the place more female-centric.
My gym was for people who were looking for serious places to train with the best equipment and experts to give advice and guide them.
However, I was aware that particular environment could be intimidating for women, and I didn’t want to alienate anyone from my gym. Everybody was welcome.
I had an area on the other side of the locker rooms that Tristan suggested I convert into a solarium to use for spray tans and sunbeds. It was a good idea, but I’d decided to take things a step further and ask my buddy if he wanted to get involved in a project with me.
I made a pot of coffee and poured myself a cup, then climbed the stairs to my office to check my messages before I went down onto the floor.
As well as a desk, phone, computer, and filing cabinet, I had a couch in there that pulled out into a bed. There was a small kitchenette downstairs and, of course, the showers in the locker rooms, so I lived at my gym quite happily and comfortably.
Mam wanted me to stay with her, but that would only ever happen over my dead body; plus, I was a man of simple tastes and didn’t need much. When I was in the Army, I’d slept in the worst places imaginable, so in comparison, my office was luxurious.
I clicked my answering machine on and wandered over to the window to survey what was happening in the gym.
Adam, the assistant manager at the Shamrock, also worked for me as a personal trainer. He’d had an early session with a client that morning, so he’d opened for me alongside Mason, who was always here before the birds.
Additionally, I had two other trainers, Gael and his wife Emma who was also a PT and worked on a part-time basis. A lot of our members already knew their training routines inside out and didn’t need advice, so between the four of us, we had it covered.
Mason—or should I say, Karma—was at the weight pulley, working on his arms with Arrow, who was ass to the mat, drinking from a bottle of water, and resting. The treadmills were almost full, which was good to see, and a couple of regulars were doing leg curls over the other side of the room.
The first couple of phone messages were from reps who were trying to sell new equipment. The next one was my buddy from the Army, Riley, who popped smoke the same time I did. I was taking a sip of coffee while also making a mental note to call him later, when the last message came through.
A woman’s voice said, Good evening. My name is Tia Brown. I’m a social worker calling from the Division of Children and Family Services in Scottsbluff, Nebraska. I’m looking for Mr. Callum O’Shea and was told you could help me contact him.
I lowered my coffee cup.
Huh?
Please call me back at your earliest convenience, the woman continued before reeling off a number. Thank you so much, she finished before the line went dead.
Frowning, I went to the desk, set my coffee down, and clicked to replay the message, thinking that maybe being so close to Rosie’s sweet ass had made my brain glitch.
Nope.
Same weird message.
I played it again, making sure to write down the number that time, while a dark, heavy weight settled in the pit of my gut.
Why the hell would a social worker from Children and Family Services in Nebraska be trying to contact my brother?
Taking a seat, I grabbed my phone and clicked on my brother’s name. It rang a few times before I got his voicemail.
Fuck.
I disconnected the call, then dialed again. He didn’t answer, so I tried another time, and another until finally the call clicked in, and Callum’s voice whispered, “What the fuck, Donny? I’m about to board a fucking plane to Belfast.”
“Houston,” I drawled. “We have a problem.”
“Deal with it then,” he snapped.
“Had a call from Nebraska. A social worker from Children and Family Services is trying to get ahold of you.”
“What for?” he demanded.
“How the hell am I supposed to know?”
I heard his sigh through the line. “Gimme her number.”
“I’ll send you the message,” I informed him. “Call me back.”
After five minutes, a few slugs of coffee, and a lot of pacing, my cell phone finally pealed. I saw it was Callum and hit the green button, clicking it straight onto speaker. “You okay?”
“I dunno,” he croaked. “Can you come to the airport and pick us up? We gotta go to Nebraska. They’re saying I’ve got a daughter. We’re postponing the honeymoon until we can find out what’s going on.”
I tipped my head back and heaved a breath. “What the fuck, Cal? Is Maeve okay? Does she know?”
“Of course she knows,” he rasped. “Last time I kept something big from her, it almost broke us. I’ve learned my lesson.
” The phone rustled, and then my sister-in-law’s voice came over the line.
“Donovan. Can you hurry? We’ve got to get to Nebraska, but Callum’s in no fit state to drive, and there are no rental cars available anyway. ”
“Are you good, Mae?” I asked earnestly.
“Yeah.” She let out a small snort. “I think I’m better than hubby right now. He’s gone white as a ghost.”
“Right,” I muttered, checking my pocket for my keys and grabbing my phone from the table. “I’ll pick you up outside the airport. Give me thirty.”
“Thanks,” Maeve murmured. “I’m gonna go. I think Callum’s about to pass out.”
I couldn’t help smiling wryly. I knew my brother well, so I was aware of how much of a blow this would be. “Won’t be long, Mae, and don’t worry, we’ll work it out.”
Pocketing my phone, I headed down the stairs, throwing a wave to the guys in the gym as I walked through reception and headed outside to my truck.
Within seconds, I was navigating the road out of town. I threw my shades on to protect my eyes against the bright morning sunlight and stepped on the gas. I needed to get to my brother and Maeve, especially since I knew how useless he was in a crisis.
I was gutted for him, but at the same time, I already knew my sister-in-law would be rallying. Mae was as strong-minded as they came, and I was happy my brother had a woman who could cope under pressure, because if Callum turned out to be the daddy, then one thing was for sure.
He’d be well and truly fucked.