Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“I love you.” Her voice cracked on the words.
I tipped her chin up, her watery gaze meeting mine. “Tha gaol agam ort.”
She chuckled, blinking back her tears. “You really should speak Gaelic more often. It does things to me.”
Smiling, I pressed a tender kiss to her lips. “I only know how to say I love you, a few endearments, and everyday phrases.”
“That’s enough,” she promised, nodding enthusiastically. “Trust me.”
Fuck, I adored this woman so much. Even in all this darkness, she’d brought so much light to my life.
“What you just said is ‘I love you’ in Gaelic?”
“It is.”
“Will you teach me?”
“Of course. Tha. Gaol. Agam. Ort.”
“Ha gill ackam orsht?” she pronounced it exactly as she heard it.
“Perfect. You’re a natural.”
“Tha gaol agam ort, Murray Shaw.”
That reminded me … “Speaking of the Shaw name … would you consider it?”
“Consider what?”
“Taking my name.” I held my breath, hoping I wasn’t pushing too hard too fast.
London bit her lip against a wide grin and my heart turned over in my chest.
“Is that a yes?”
“That’s an aye.” She beamed. “The only use I ever had for my surname was Nee calling me Spoon. But since I can’t call her Silver anymore without turning her on—long story—I think fair is fair.”
Bemused, I let out a low laugh. “Why can’t you call her Silver without—oh wait.” Suddenly I understood. Ramsay called Tierney Silver instead of her first name. “Bloody hell, I didn’t need to know that.”
London snorted. “Sorry.”
“No wonder she’s pregnant.”
“God, I know. Stop!” She lightly smacked my chest. “Back to us. I would be delighted to become a Shaw. I’ll start the paperwork.”
“Fantastic,” I murmured, holding her warm gaze. “That way if we add to our family, we’ll all share the same name …”
Her lips parted and I held my breath, because I really was pushing things tonight. But knowing what lay ahead of me tomorrow, I wanted to think only of our future beyond it.
Little splotches of red crested her cheeks. “For the longest time, I was so sure I didn’t want to be a mom. But now I know it was just because I was afraid I’d be a terrible parent because I didn’t have the greatest example to follow. You and Kelly have made me realize that I am not my parents. I could never be like them… and I’d very much like to add to our family one day.”
I let out the breath I was holding, anticipation cutting through all the fears. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, a ghràidh.”
“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, handsome.” She leaned up to press a kiss to my lips and then winced. “And I cannot wait for my bruises to heal and my period to end so I can jump you.”
Laughing, I pressed another hard kiss to her mouth and then settled back, enjoying the peace and quiet with my wife before tomorrow came to pull me away.
44. Murray
The Walsh brothers assumed we’d already left from Leth Sholas to make what was a twenty-five-hour boat trip to the meeting point off the coast of Dublin. They’d planned our route for us so we could avoid official boats that policed the waters.
However, since Fraser and I had the police on board with us, we traveled to the mainland in the wee hours of the morning instead and had driven four hours from Oban to Cairnryan, a small port town on the southwest coast. It would cut the boat journey down to only a few hours and the Walshes wouldn’t know any better. We’d slapped one of my boat registrations on the long-liner we were using to cover our arses in case they checked it.
The Irish Sea was choppy, the long-liner boat bobbing roughly in the water as we waited off the coast of Ireland for the Iris. The undercover cops were dressed in typical fisherman gear, all of us wearing thick weatherproof jackets and beanies to fight off the chilly breeze. My stomach roiled and not with the boat. I’d had my sea legs since I was a boy and a strong stomach because of it.
Usually, however, a fishing expedition was filled with machine noise and loud communication among the crew. All that could be heard out here was the whoosh of the water beneath us and the racing pulse in my ears. And there was the small matter of having never had to face dangerous criminals and pretend to traffic drugs for them with a bunch of undercover police officers whose mere presence could get my cousin and me killed.
It changed everything. I’d always felt at home out on the water. Even with all its dangers, I’d found more beauty in it than threat. But today, all I felt was its chill. Its dampness seemed to seep into my very veins, filling me with its vast, empty loneliness.