Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 20816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
“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.”