Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Holy shit, this isn’t part of the plan. I try to shake it off. She’s my best friend’s baby sister. I can’t allow myself to imagine railing her against the wall, over my desk, right there with her back pressed against the window.
I’m supposed to be listening, not planning where I’ll take her to seduce her to get those long legs over my shoulders. My skin is overheated, and I rake a hand through my hair, making it a bit of a mess, but I’m trying to hold it together. Any second she’s going to notice I’m acting weird, looking at her too intently. I struggle to follow the story. It’s not Ukrainians anymore. It’s about finding and eliminating redundant expenses. I nod, able to appreciate the value of that.
She arches her back, rubs her neck once, not in complaint, but because I think she’s restless. “So, you always wear a suit now?” She asks.
I shrug in response. “When I took over, it made sense to dress the part. If I was in my old Levis and a Red Sox shirt, nobody would take me seriously. I couldn’t get a meeting with half these charities.”
“That’s what it is now? Charity?” She asks archly.
“I do what I can.”
“I bet,” she says.
“What about you? Did you run around LA in a skirt and heels?”
“No, but I did freelance work from home mostly. You don’t want to see me come in here in my pajamas do you? That won’t get me a job. It’s like you said. Nobody would take me seriously if I didn’t look the part.”
“Your skirt’s too short for an interview,” I say, and I sound like a grumpy old man. She grins.
“You think so? I guess by Boston standards you’re right. Sister Mary Agnes used to make me prove my hem was as long as my fingertips if I put my arms down to my sides.” She’s smiling and it’s like getting an arrow to the chest.
“I sound like a nun now?”
“Maybe a little,” she says. “You’re just not used to seeing me grown up. Besides, I’m not applying to be the accountant for a parochial school, Mickey. Or do I call you Mr. O’Halloran? I forgot you’re the head of the family now. Do I kiss your ring?” She teases.
The idea of her bending or kneeling to kiss anything of mine chokes off my air. I can’t begin to answer her for a second. I have to get a drink of water before I do.
“You’re thinking about the pope, love. I’m a sinner through and through.”
“Are you now? I thought when I was a kid that you were the good one and Rory was the troublemaker.”
“That’s not far off from the truth,” I admit. “But he’s grown up some since those days and I screwed up plenty on my own. The only thing that kept me out of real trouble I think I was always too aware that there were eyes on me. I was the heir apparent and if I acted a fool, if I didn’t stay in line, that could cost me. The territory, the respect and security from these people. It’s worth too much to take risks.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re the head of the Irish organization in Boston. You run a huge gaming industry both legitimate and otherwise, and you don’t like risks?” She looks at me in disbelief.
“You could say that,” I reply, uncomfortable. I’m trying to act normal in spite of my reaction to her, but I’m failing miserably. I’m about to sweat to death in this dumb suit. I take off my jacket and unfasten my cuffs. I’m rolling up my sleeves when she gets to her feet.
“I won’t take up any more of your time,” she says abruptly. “I appreciate you giving me a job. I know it’s a courtesy to Rory, and I’m going to be mindful of that. I’m excellent at what I do, and I’m not going to let you down. It was—good to see you again,” she finishes a little awkwardly.
Then, as I live and breathe, Mary Kathryn Donahue, grown up baby sister of my top lieutenant and best friend, steps way too close to me, lifts on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek.
For a second, electric current rips down my spine and my vision goes spotty at the edges. Even in her heels, I’m too tall for her, because she sways a little toward me, and I steady her. I don’t do it right, I don’t catch her elbow and set her on her feet nice and politely. Instead, I get her around the waist and hold her still, against me.
I’m about two seconds from crushing her to my chest, breathing her in. She shouldn’t have kissed my cheek, because I’m going to replay that moment tonight along with the soft pillowy lips, the cute swell of her ass in that skirt. I hold her against me for a moment, close enough that I can see the skittering pulse in her neck She looks up to meet my eyes. I can see her pupils blown wide, her nervous energy.