Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
DEE
After closing, I stand at the bar, pretending to wipe down the counter, but my hands are jelly and my brain is shot. Every time I glance up, I catch Eamon’s reflection in the back mirror. His eyes are laser-focused on me, and the look he gives me is so intent, I swear, it turns my insides to goo.
The door just shut behind the last employee, and I don’t even get the chance to put the cleaning rag down before Eamon stalks across the floor, steps behind the bar, and cages me against the sink.
His body is pure heat and muscle, blocking out the world, and all he does is stare at me for a long, loaded moment.
“You ready to go home?” he asks, voice pitched low, not giving anything away.
I nod, but the sound that comes out is basically a squeak. “I was born ready.”
His mouth twitches. “That’s my girl.” He grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers as we head toward the back exit.
We hit the alley, and he tugs me to his black sports car.
The paint is immaculate, and the inside smells like leather and Eamon.
He helps me into the passenger seat, then walks around to slide in behind the wheel.
He slams the door, then leans across the console and just devours my mouth with the kind of kiss that wipes my memory and leaves me clawing at the upholstery for something to anchor me to earth.
After that, the drive to his place is a blur. When he parks in the underground garage, I almost forget how to unbuckle my seatbelt. He hops out, jogs around, and opens my door for me before taking my hand in his again.
We ride up the elevator in silence, but it’s not awkward. The opposite, actually. The tension is so thick as I sneak a glance at him, at his profile, the hard jaw and the blue-steel eyes and the little furrow in his brow that says he’s already planning three steps ahead.
His apartment is gorgeous. I expected a typical bachelor pad, but what I get is this sleek, modern penthouse with actual plants, bookshelves lined with books, and beautiful artwork. The floors are dark wood, and the city glows through the floor-to-ceiling windows. “This is beautiful.”
He’s on me before the words are even out of my mouth. “I’m glad you like it,” he mutters, and runs his hands down my back to grab my ass. He kisses me to within an inch of my life as he backs me down the hallway.
“Fuck, Dee,” he growls. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
I tilt my head, giving him a lazy grin. “Bet I do.”
He laughs, low and dark. “I was a moron to ignore what’s been happening between us all this time.”
“Yes, you were,” I shoot back, and then he’s carrying me down the hallway, one hand splayed on my back, the other cupping the back of my thigh like he owns it. “We both were.”
“Then it looks like we have a lot of lost time to make up for.” His bedroom is huge and intimidating, all charcoal and gunmetal, but there’s nothing cold about the way he tosses me onto the bed.
He climbs on after me, hands rough and sure, tugging off my jeans, my tank, and my bra, until I’m naked under his gaze.
He stops for a second, just stares at me with this look that’s so raw, so hungry, I almost can’t breathe. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure you don’t regret giving up your dream job in New York.”
I stare into his eyes, letting him see the truth in my gaze. “That job wasn’t my dream. You were.”
“God, I fucking love you.” He covers my lips with his and kisses me until my bones turn to mush.
I wake to the feel of an arm slung heavy over my waist. I blink at the ceiling, half expecting to find the whole thing was a dream, but then Eamon pulls me closer and murmurs something in my ear that sounds suspiciously like, “Don’t even think about getting out of bed.”
“Fine,” I yawn, “but only because you’re warm.”
He shifts, tugs me tighter, and now my back is flush with his chest. The evidence of his morning wood is impossible to ignore. He nuzzles into the curve of my neck and runs his hand down my side, lazy and possessive.
“Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life,” he mutters against the back of my neck.
I snort. “That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve watched every Hallmark movie on Netflix.”
He kisses my shoulder, his lips warm and rough. “I’m glad my love entertains you.”
I crane my neck to look at him, and his expression is so open, so unguarded, I almost don’t recognize him. “I love you, too,” I tell him. “So fucking much.”
His smile is small and crooked, the real one, the one I’ve never seen him use on anyone else. “I’m one lucky motherfucker.”
“And don’t you ever forget it.” I laugh and try to snuggle in, but he slips out of the bed.
“I need to show you something,” he says. “Stay there.”
Now, I’m intrigued. I sit up in bed and watch him disappear down the hall. He comes back with a shiny, black lockbox.
He sets it on the bed next to me and mutters, “Zero, four, two, two.”
I look up at him questioningly, and he adds, “The code to open in.”
As I type the numbers in, I realize it’s my birthday. “What’s in here?” I ask.
He hesitates and runs a hand through his hair, suddenly all nerves.
“It’s everything I’ve never told anyone.
Shit I don’t talk about. My family photos, some letters.
” His jaw clenches. “I’ve never let anyone see what’s inside.
” The gravity of it sinks in, slow and heavy.
“Because I want you to see all of me. The real me. Even the parts I’m not proud of. ” He fixes those ice-blue eyes on me.
I key in the code and pop the lid. The box is packed—old photographs, dog tags, thick battered notebooks, even a child’s birthday card.
I pull the top photo free. It’s Eamon as a kid, skinny and grinning, arm slung around a blond boy with the same sharp jaw. “Is this your brother?”
“My cousin. Seamus. He runs the family business in Boston.” There’s an edge to his voice, a bitterness. “I was supposed to work side by side with him, but I didn’t want that life.”
I stare at the photo, then at him. “Family business?”
“Organized crime.” He nods. “I never wanted to be a part of that, so I signed up for the military right out of high school and never looked back.”
My brain stutters. “Does your family still want you to…?”
He laughs, sharp and hard. “I bought my way to freedom by giving up my interests in it.” He pauses, taps a finger on the lockbox. “But Seamus still checks in with me every now and then to make sure I haven’t changed my mind.”
I flip through the other photos. There’s one of Eamon in fatigues, standing in a line of men all beaming at the camera, dusty and sunburnt. A snapshot of him at a graduation. A photo of a much younger Nathan, with a black eye and split lip, grinning like a maniac, with Eamon beside him.
“I’ve been fighting my feelings for you since the moment you walked into Midnight Mischief.” He sits on the side of me. “I thought you needed someone without my past.”
“What?” I don’t understand this at all, but I sit silently and let him explain.
“I told myself to let you find a man who can give you everything you deserve. I just never stopped to consider what it would feel like if you actually walked away.” He lifts my hand to his mouth and places soft kisses along my knuckles.
Then he shocks the holy hell out of me by sliding a huge diamond ring on my finger.
“I can’t stomach the thought of you leaving me.
And I know I’ll kill any motherfucker who tries to take you from me.
I want you here. With me. Forever. I’m going to give you the life you deserve. ”
I stare at him, at the ring, down to the lockbox, and then back up at him. There’s a lump in my throat so big I can barely talk.
“I almost moved to New York just to get over you, you know,” I say. “But now… I don’t want to be anywhere but here. You’re the only thing I want.” Leave it to Eamon to propose to me without asking a thing.
He cups my face and kisses me. It’s slow, deep, and infinitely more vulnerable than any of the other times. When he pulls away, his voice is soft. “Good.”
A thought occurs to me. I don’t want there to be any surprises or regrets. “I have to tell you something.” He stares down into my eyes as I swallow and admit, “I don’t think I want children.”
He blinks several times. “And?”
“And I want to make sure this isn’t a deal breaker for you.” Duh.
Eamon kisses me until my brain short-circuits and the world narrows to pure sensation. “All I want is you. I don’t care about anything else. If you want kids, I’ll give them to you. If not, I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy.” His words hit me with the force of a tidal wave.
My body melts into his, all my jagged little pieces finally clicking into place. “Thank you for being absolutely fucking perfect,” I choke out, burying my face against his chest and clinging to him like he’s the answer to every unsolved equation in my life.
He dips his head, nuzzling along my jaw with his nose, and murmurs, “By the way, I texted Nathan and let him know neither of us will be in tonight.” His breath is hot as it ghosts over my skin, making me shiver.
“Why?” I lean back, searching his eyes for the catch, that little twist that says this is too good to be true.
His eyes spark. “Because we’re moving your shit into my apartment. Now that you’re mine, I’m not spending another night without you.”
The words land like an electric jolt, sparking in every nerve ending. “Sounds like a plan to me.”