Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58449 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58449 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“I’m sure,” I said. “It’ll help you, right? And I think it’ll help me too. The Don’s never going to believe that I don’t know anything about my father’s business, and the Healys won’t ever let me escape without trying to get something from me. You’re the only one that gives a crap about me at all, and I might as well embrace it.”
That didn’t seem to ease him at all. “I don’t want to force you into this,” he said. “I’ve been clear about that from the start.”
“I know,” I said gently. “You’re not forcing anything.”
He leaned closer over the center console and touched my face, then moved back to grip my hair. He kissed me hard, deep and probing, and I returned that kiss with a shocking hunger.
I didn’t know when something shifted in me, but I wasn’t the same girl I’d been before my father’s death. I was different, altered, grownup. The world wasn’t clear anymore—it was clouded over and stained by violence and death and fear. But through it all, I kept seeing something in Ewan, something maybe not pure, maybe not good, but righteous and solid. He knew what he was and what he wanted, and even if the world didn’t live up to his expectations, he still pressed forward.
I wanted to be like that, and I thought maybe taking what I wanted was the first step toward being more myself. I could keep on trying to deny my attraction to Ewan all I wanted, but it was so clear that I couldn’t hide from it, not really. I knew it was wrong, that it was fucked up to want to be with the man that murdered my father, and at least I understood why he did it, and almost was glad it happened. My father was a monster, and he deserved to die.
I wanted to live though, and Ewan was the only way I really, truly felt alive.
“All right then,” he said softly, breaking off the kiss, his hand still twined through my hair. “I’ll have to get a ring.”
“How much money do you make, anyway?” I asked. “Three months’ salary doesn’t mean all that much in this situation.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, and kissed my lips softly. “You’ll be taken care of.”
I believed him.
He released my hair and I sat back against the seat, buzzing. He watched me carefully before putting the car in drive.
“I won’t rush you into this,” he said as he rolled away from Colm’s house, back toward the city. “When you’re ready, we’ll make plans.”
I nodded, and leaned toward him, and put my hand on his leg as he drove, and for the first time in a long time, I suddenly felt like I had a reason to keep going.
19
Ewan
When I was young, I told myself I’d never get married.
I saw what life was like for my father and my mother. They weren’t married, but their relationship was twisted and broken from the start. I thought any relationship would end up like that, and I should avoid them all to avoid getting hurt. I thought I could keep myself aloof from the rest of the world.
Until Tara came into my life. And now suddenly I wanted a wife, wanted to make her my bride. I wanted to make it real.
The Don’s house was quiet as I parked out front. It was a bright afternoon and birdsong rang from the trees lining the long driveway. Tara didn’t move as I took off my seatbelt, and she stared up at the front door, frowning a little bit. She wore a white sweater and tight black jeans, and her hair seemed to glow in the sunlight. I didn’t know how I got so lucky, to be so close to a woman like her.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“I’m worried about what he’ll say,” she admitted.
“He wants us to get married, remember?” I reached out and took her hand. The ring glittered on her finger. It cost more than the car, and she tried to give it back, insisted it was too much, but she had no clue that I had more money than I knew what to do with from years and years of hard service.
“I know, but he also wants something from me that I can’t give him.” She shook her head, hair spilling all over her shoulders. “I’m just worried, is all.”
“Don’t be.” I squeezed her hand. “I got you.”
She smiled a little, nodded once, and I kissed her. We got out and headed up to the door, which was opened by Bea as soon as I stepped up onto the porch like she’d been waiting by the window—which she probably was.
“How’s he doing?” I asked her quietly as we stepped into the front hall.
“Well enough,” she said with a sigh. “Dean’s been hovering around him since he got home, but otherwise I think being back is good.”