Three Little Words
Chapter forty-one
áINE
He unlocks the suite door and steps back to let me in, creating physical distance between us like he's been doing since the hospital.
Kieran, who puts his hand on the small of my back to steer me through doorways. Who finds some point of contact within sixty seconds of being in the same space as me. Who does his best communicating when we're touching because our connection is what lets the words come.
That man. My man is not touching me.
No hand at my back.
No fingers finding mine.
No kiss against my hair.
Nothing.
He moves to the window. Away from me.
He stands there, arms crossed, back to me, his shoulders like he's standing at attention. I remember Brady used to do that, when he was drawing some kind of line between himself and the rest of his family. Mom said I was imagining things. I knew I wasn't.
And I'm not imagining Kieran doing it now.
He grabs his phone and makes a call. "She's okay. … Not even a mild concussion. … I don't want the girls to see me like this."
Like what? Locked down and emotionless?
"Appreciate it." He taps the phone screen and then reaches out to drop it on the table. "McL—Ellie is taking Maureen and the girls to a safehouse."
"We should be with them. They'll be scared being taken to a strange place and told they have to stay there." Mom will want to know why.
And I had no plans to tell either her, or the girls, about the accident. Despite his over-the-top get her out of the car without letting her spine shift response, neither of us was hurt. I was unconscious for about five seconds, but I don't have even a mild concussion.
There are no chemical burns from the airbag deployment like can happen sometimes. Once the nurse flushed my eyes with saline, the irritation and redness went away there too.
"They don't know it's a safehouse." He's still not looking at me.
"How?"
"Ellie is taking the girls to the Water Park."
"You mean Dreamworks in Jersey?" It's one of the girls' favorite places.
We've only been twice since it opened, but they loved it both times. Ellie gifted all access family passes to us for Christmas last year, so that part is believable.
He jerks a nod.
So, we're back to Taciturn Man.
Refusing to let that get me down, I ask, "How's that supposed to keep them out of the apartment?"
"I got them passes for the Water Park and Nickelodean Universe."
Which means more than one day of fun, but still not a trip away from the apartment. It's not that long of a drive to East Rutherford from Queens.
"Why do I think you bought them before today?"
He shrugs.
"Did you?"
He jerks his head in a nod.
"So, somehow Ellie is spinning it as a vacation, or something?"
"With auntie time tonight and tomorrow."
Five words. Whoop! "Because you don't want the girls to see you like this," I repeat what I overheard.
He doesn’t answer.
"Mom will want answers I don't want to give her," I admit.
"She's going to GRIP for a week."
"What's GRIP?"
"The Genealogical Research Institute of Pittsburgh."
"She's going to love that."
"Yeah."
"You must have booked that in advance."
"She was supposed to go two weeks from now."
A couple of weeks before her trip to Ireland. "You're so thoughtful."
He shrugs.
And suddenly, I'm done.
We are absolutely not doing this. We are not going back to pulling teeth to get a word out of him. We're past that and he'd better realize it.
"Kieran," I say sternly.
He turns. His expression isn't the stoicism I expect. It's filled with frustration. Anguish. Fear.
"áine…" His voice trails off, no other words forthcoming after my name.
There's only one way this conversation is going to have any chance of progressing beyond his constipated word funnel.
I cross the room with determined steps and put my hand out to him. "Come on, big guy. Let's sit on the couch."
He swallows convulsively, but his hands remain at his sides, fisted so tightly his knuckles are white.
I grab one of his wrists and tug. He takes a step forward. We make our way to the couch like that, me walking backward, tugging him step-by-step until the backs of my legs come into contact with the sofa.
I don't sit down. I step to the side and nod toward the couch. "Sit down, Kieran."
His jaw works.
"Please, I need you to hold me right now."
He sits down. Like I expected him to. Because if he can give me something I need, Kieran will. And so far, we haven't come across anything I've needed, he hasn't had the power to give.
Not even his love.
I'm not sure he'll ever acknowledge the emotion for what it is, but Kieran Veseli loves me. I'm sure of it.
If I hadn't suspected before, the way he reacted to the accident today would have told me. The expression in his eyes when I opened mine to find him looking at me like he was terrified his entire world had just burned to the ground would have told me.
The way he was so careful with me, extracting me from the car like I was a major accident victim. Which, okay, maybe I was. But so was he and I didn't see him waiting for paramedics with a backboard to arrive to safely extract him from the SUV.
No, he was out of his seatbelt and protecting me even before I returned to consciousness.
Without another word, I climb onto his lap, my knees settling on either side of his hips.
Usually, his arms are around me, holding me to him before I even find my balance. His hands come up reflexively to my hips and then stop, like he's caught himself. He drops them to his sides again.
My chest hurts.
I pick up his right fist and press it against my waist. Then his left. It takes a full five seconds before his hands uncurl and his long fingers grip me almost convulsively.
I slide my arms around his neck and press my forehead to his. "You scared me."
His breath catches, his big body going taut.
"You were scared too," I say for him, feeling like right now, his words are still far away.
"Yes." The word comes out rough enough to scrape.
I kiss the corner of his mouth.
He doesn't kiss me back.
I don't let that stop me and I press my lips softly against his before drawing back to see his beloved face. "We were both afraid of losing each other."
He was afraid I'd died in the accident, though that fear was not even a little rational. I was and am afraid of losing him to his need to remain an emotional island.
That won't stop me from planting my flag on the shore of his heart and laying claim to it though.
"Are you listening right now, Kieran Veseli?" I hold his gaze. "Because this is important."
He opens his mouth to speak. Nothing comes out.
I lean forward and give him another brief kiss.
He clears his throat. "I'm listening."
"I'm fine. No concussion. No abrasions." I don't mention the bruising from the seatbelt that will probably be visible tomorrow.
It's unavoidable and a sign the safety restraints did what they were supposed to, but Kieran won't see it that way.
"The car did its job," he says, almost bitterly.
I blink. "It did."
"It shouldn't have needed to."
My brow furrows. He's not meeting my eyes anymore. He's looking at something over my shoulder.
Or some time that is not now. The accident.
"Tell me what's going on inside your head." Tell me why you're not touching me the way I need you to, I plead silently.
Always before, when his hands are on me, his thumbs or his fingers are moving, caressing, connecting.
Now his hold on my waist is utterly still.
At least he hasn't moved his hands away. I don't know what it would do to me if he did.
I may not be sitting here in alpha male protector guilt mode, but my emotions feel raw. And believing Kieran loves me isn't the same as knowing it, is it?
What if I'm wrong?
"I failed," he says baldly. "Like I failed my mom. I broke my promise."
Eleven words. Now we're getting somewhere.
How can he think he failed me though? No, I'm not asking that because it's simply not true. "No."
He frowns at me. "You almost died."
"Not even close."
His jaw tightens. "You could have."
"So could you. We're both safe and healthy. Why aren't we celebrating?"
"I promised to protect you."
Is he talking in Kieran code right now? Because I'm not getting the disconnect here. "Which is exactly what you did."
"I should have realized Kenneth was still a threat to you."
"Stop pretending you didn't," I say with exasperation. "You had a four-man security team on me. I don't go anywhere without them. You don't let me and the girls ride in anything but armored cars."
"I thought he was effectively neutralized. I was wrong."
"And even believing that, you didn't drop your vigilance."
"The accident shouldn't have happened." His face twists with some intolerable emotion. "If we hadn't been in an armored vehicle, you would be dead."
And that would have devastated him. Just like it would devastate me to lose him.
"But we were. Because you made sure we were." Why is he castigating himself like this? "You have never once broken your promise to protect me, big guy. Not once."
He shakes his head.
"You started the first day we met and you've never stopped. You're my hero."
"I'm no hero."
"Don't you believe it. You're the kind of hero epic poems are written about, not a cardboard cutout prince who hasn't got a clue what real life is like."
"You really believe that?" His tone is laced with wary hope, his eyes filled with the same.
"Yes. You made sure the boys who hurt Sadie wouldn't ever have the chance to try to hurt her again.
You got Neeve's entire school to participate in an antibullying campaign because of what was being said to her.
You pushed Kenneth right out of our lives and made sure that piece of crap never got a chance to get anywhere near me again.
Do you know how wet it made me to know you had bodyguards protecting me like that? "
"My need to keep you safe turns you on?"
"Yes. When I was eighteen years old, I married the fairytale prince."
Kieran growls with displeasure at my words.
I pat his chest. "At least I thought he was. But Troy wasn't a hero. He was weak and greedy and his actions put a bullseye on my back and a target on his daughters. You literally stepped between us and anyone who would do us harm. You are the hero, Kieran."
"I'm no white knight," he says, like it’s a warning.
I smile and shake my head. "Who wants a white knight? I'll take my dark knight with tarnished armor and enough courage and strength to fell an army for me and our daughters."
"You called them ours."
I have before, haven't I? Doesn't matter. "They are ours. Yours and mine. And because of you our daughters still have their mother."
"I'm a dangerous man," he says, like it's a confession.
"I know," I purr with approval. "To the rest of the world, you are the storm coming to wreak havoc on them. But to us?" I brush my thumb over his cheek. "You're the shelter."
He goes completely still.
"Bad things happen, big guy. Even when you don't have a target painted on your life by the mob. Cars crash. People die. The world doesn't stop hurting because someone loves you enough."
"I don't want anything bad to happen to you or our family."
"I don't either. Not to you. Not to the girls. Not to mom. Or Ellie. But bad things will happen. What I need from you is to be there beside me when they do. Like you were today."
I drop my forehead against his again and whisper, "I don't need you to stop life happening." He can't. "I need you to keep helping me survive it."
One of his hands slides up my back and cups my nape. "I will."
"I know." Tears burn the backs of my eyes. "I trust you, Kieran. I love you."
"I love you, too." The words are so quiet I almost think I imagined them.
But I didn't.
"You love me." It's not a question.
Not anymore.
"I haven't loved anyone since my mom died." He talks between kisses. Against my temple. "But this?" The corner of my mouth. "It's different." The underside of my jaw. "Bigger." The hollow of my throat. "Consuming." My chin. "Everything."
His mouth finds mine. Not desperately. Not hungrily. Not yet.
It's coming home, every brush of his lips confirming the same impossible truth. I found you, the other half of my soul.
My fingers slide into his hair, and he makes a low sound against my mouth, his arms tightening around me and I shudder with relief.
Finally.
The kiss breaks. Only because breathing becomes necessary. Our foreheads rest together.
I shift closer until every part of me rests against him.
His hands move over my back with quiet reverence, like he's memorizing me.
His mouth finds my temple again. My cheek. My jaw. No words this time, but every kiss lingers.
Every kiss says the same thing his words finally did.
I love you.
I tilt my head and find his mouth again, giving the words back to him through my lips.
We make love, there on the couch. Reverent fingers undoing buttons and pulling clothing away piece by piece. He kisses the red diagonal between my breasts. I press soft lips to the matching one on his chest.
We survived another attempt on our lives and our prize for doing so is each other.
There is no hurry between us. No teasing. No games. No cuffs or nipple rings. No delayed orgasms
Just two people who have found the one thing so many claim is a myth, their soulmate.
I take him into my body with gratitude overflowing in my heart. He touches me like he can't believe I'm really here. Really his.
We whisper words of love and promises born of it.
My climax builds slowly, but when the pleasure explodes inside me, he's coming too, our bodies so in tune, that even the aftershocks shudder through us at the same time.
Afterward, I stay there, his member still inside me. Still hard. Still thick. And I know, that gentle and slow or fast and furious, this night isn't going to be over any time soon.
Because we aren't just having sex.
We're expressing emotion so deep, even the word love feels inadequate to express it.