Is this our thing now?
Chapter thirty-six
áINE
Ikeep taking peeks at Kieran, my eyes irresistibly drawn to him reviewing something with Ethan and Noah on the other side of the office.
I was surprised when he decided to work from this office today, but I'm glad he did. I haven't seen him at all since he dropped me and the girls off at the apartment yesterday after our last-day-of-school ice cream celebration. Not until he showed up here an hour ago.
I’m sure there are places that would be more convenient for the work that Kieran is doing right now, but he's here. And I love it.
Just like I love him.
I really, really do.
Of course you do, girlfriend. Have you seen the size of his man meat? And the way he uses it? Go ahead, fan yourself, but it won't cool you down.
That's lust, not love. Right?
But the feelings blooming inside you like a summer rose are love.
When my inner hussy and my conscience gang up on me, I know I'm lost.
Yeah, it's love.
My text alert chime yanks my attention away from Kieran and my inner musings. The name lighting up the screen on my phone makes me blink.
Kara Fitzerald.
Kara: This is Kara Fitzgerald. I'm going to call you in a minute.
áine → Kara: Okay.
áine → Wraith: Did you put Kara Fitzgerald in my phone? ??
There's a buzz and Kieran glances at his own screen and then types something on it.
A second later, I get a text.
Wraith: Yes.
áine: Why?
Wraith: So when she calls you know it's Kara.
Why would he assume Kara Fitzgerald would call me? Okay, so that's the plan, but how could he know she'd want to? Does he think she and I are friends like our children are?
My phone rings. I answer. "Hello."
"Hi, Aine, it's Kara."
"I know, Kieran put your number in my phone."
She laughs, like this kind of intrusiveness is normal. "Good. Now you can text or call if you need to."
It's a generous offer from the underboss's wife. I guess we are becoming friends.
"Ditto," I tell her. Not like it's necessary.
Again, she called me.
"Allison Shaughnessy asked to meet with you and me."
My stomach clenches. "Allison? Why?" I could cheerfully go my whole life without talking to that woman again.
"She's got it in her head that we can talk sense into our husbands."
"Kieran doesn't need any sense talked into him."
"Nor does Mick. Not about this, anyway," Kara clarifies in a humor laced voice. "But there are things we need to know about her involvement in, or knowledge of, certain plans before it can be decided what is to happen to her."
Shock keeps my tongue still for long seconds. The words decided what is to happen to her ring ominously in my head.
"She wants you there because she says she believes talking to you will help clear things up."
"She’s delusional."
"Not least of which because my son was a witness to what happened at St. Patrick’s and I saw the way both her son and husband lied about it," Kara agrees drily.
"You were at the meeting?" I'm not surprised.
From my interaction with the Fitzgeralds, it's clear they operate as a team.
"Part of it. I watched on one of Mick’s video feeds for the rest. Your husband was very forceful in his defense of your daughter and you. I thought he was going to cut Kenneth’s tongue out more than once."
One of Mick’s feeds?
I don’t know what that’s about. Isn't overseeing video surveillance below the underboss's pay grade? I don't ask because I'm still stuck on her casual mention that Kieran was going to cut out Kenneth’s tongue.
"Kieran didn’t tell me about the meeting other than that the boys wouldn’t be returning to school."
"That should never have been in question," Kara says firmly. "Even if they weren’t being fostered to different families rather than being sent to a young offender facility."
"Or killed."
Kara makes a dismissive sound. "That wasn’t going to happen."
"That’s what Kieran said."
"He’s right. My husband can be cold and ruthless, but he is never without honor and there’s no honor in the death of a child."
On that, we agree completely. "No, there isn’t."
"Will you come for tea with Allison so we can ask her the necessary questions without having to pull her in for a formal interrogation? Mick would insist on it and right now, my father is pissed at his cousin, but he would still balk at officially interrogating Allison."
"Right now? Does that mean you don't think your father will remain angry with his cousin even though Kenneth is involved with trafficking children?"
"That's not proven yet and my dad won't believe a Shaughnessy could be involved in something we've worked to keep out of our boroughs for more than three generations."
"But Kieran said—"
"Oh, we all know he's the rich business dude the gang members mentioned in interrogation, but my dad requires proof."
Stress lodges itself in my chest and won't let go. This is my daughter's safety we're talking about and Brogan Shaughnessy's unwillingness to admit his family is involved only puts her further at risk.
When my silence stretches, Kara says, "Wraith is not going to let them get to Sadie. Neither will Mick. And your husband's team is looking for links between Kenneth and the Hollow Point Kings."
Ellie is part of that team and there's no one better at finding information than her. She's given me a list of names to look for in the company books in the off chance Kenneth did business with any of them that can be documented.
"It would help if he would stop killing them before interrogation," Kara says with what sounds like fond exasperation.
"Oh."
"His argument is that the low-level gang members are a clear and present threat to Sadie, but are unlikely to have information that will help us."
So, he kills them.
"Uh…" I don't know what to say to that.
"You're going to have to decide how much of your husband's life you want to remain a mystery to you," Kara warns.
She's right. For a man like Kieran, if I want to stay ignorant of his mob activities, there's going to be a big chunk of him I'll never get to know.
My knee-jerk reaction to that is heck no, there won't. Not knowing what Troy was up to put me and the girls at risk, but it also prevented me from seeing the type of man my first husband really was.
"I don't want barriers between me and Kieran," I admit to Kara.
"Good. He deserves to be with a woman who sees and accepts all of him."
"Yes, he does," I agree with more fervency than I'm sure she's expecting. To cover my excessive enthusiasm, I prompt, "By ask her, you mean…"
Am I setting myself up for participating in an informal interrogation and if so, what kind of information extraction techniques am I expected to watch or participate in?
"There will be a little something extra in her tea that will make her more amenable to answering questions honestly. In the proper dose, she won't remember a whole lot of the conversation later."
"Um, that's good, I guess."
"Yep. Unfortunately, we'll need to meter it so she doesn’t faceplant unconscious in her plate of petit fours either."
That's a weirdly specific scenario.
"What time do you want me there?" I’m assuming we’re meeting at the Shaughnessy mansion on Long Island.
I’m right and Kara tells me what time to come over the following day.
After ending the call, I go back to my accounts.
I'm trying to balance yet another anomalous entry when I look up to see Kieran standing beside my desk. "You ready for lunch?"
It's only eleven o'clock and I'm not at all hungry, but I nod and stand with alacrity. Because by lunch, I'm hoping he means some time alone in the suite/apartment he took me to yesterday.
Ten minutes later, anticipation for what's about to happen thrumming through my veins, I wait as Kieran unlocks the door to the suite.
"So, is this going to be our thing from now on?" I joke huskily.
He pushes the door open and ushers me inside. "Until we have a house big enough for privacy at night, yes."
"But we both have work to do during the day." Though I guess if last night is anything to go by, he's working plenty at night.
His big hand cupping my nape, he pulls me toward him. "Nothing as important as this."
"When you say stuff like that, it makes me feel all squishy inside." I start unbuttoning his dress shirt.
His eyes reflect the same hunger I feel and something else. Something I can't read. "Does it?"
"Yes. I mean I guess it’s just sex—"
"No. Just sex wouldn’t be this necessary."
He’s right. This is way too powerful to be just anything. Even mind blowing, out of this world sex. But the feelings I have are all about love.
What are his feelings for me?
I don’t ask.
I just let him guide me toward the bedroom, noticing on the way that once again there’s a platter of food under a dome on the table and bottles of juice chilling in an ice bucket beside it. "You’re always taking care of me."
"That’s my job."
"I’m not sure all forced husbands would say the same thing."
"No one forced me to marry you."
"No?" I lean forward and kiss him in the center of his chest tattoo.
His thumb brushes my neck, sending pleasure skating along my nerve endings. "The marriage was my idea. Mick approved it and—"
"Then he forced me to follow through." Sometimes, I forget that Kieran's the one that made the outrageous claim that I was his to protect when we'd only just met.
Mick was all for it though.
Because he didn't care how an arranged marriage might affect me? Or because his friend took one look at me and thought, I must keep this woman and protect her?
I thought I knew, but now I wonder.
"Does that matter so much?" Kieran asks me as he pulls me through the doorway of the bedroom.
Honestly? I’m not sure that it does. It's too fast. I know it is.
But my feelings for this man are too big to ignore. "Maybe it doesn't. Maybe where we are is all that really matters."
And where we are is together. I cannot regret marrying Kieran Veseli.
He makes a growly sound low in his throat and then he kisses me silly. I'm panting and little dizzy when he pulls away.