Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Ashland's jaw tightens. “Didn't do it to be a legend.”
“I know.” I press a kiss to his chin, careful to avoid his injuries—which is actually quite hard, considering how battered he is. “And I'll always be here to patch you up afterward, I guess.”
He smiles and catches my face in his bandaged hands, tilting my head up to kiss me properly, slow and deep, full of promise. I sigh against his mouth.
“Kyla told me, ‘Welcome to the family,’” I whisper when we part.
“How do you feel about that, lass?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.
I think about it. About Caitlin's hug, Bronwyn's kindness, and Kyla's fierce approval. About Seamus giving us a safe place to land and Tiernan coaching Ashland through the fight. Lorcan’s immediate defense of his brother and Nolan’s twinkling eyes when he saw the two of us together. About this family I was raised to hate, who are now welcoming me with open arms.
“It feels like home,” I whisper. “It feels like I belong.”
“Good.” His face transforms. The hardness, the violence, the monster—it all melts away, leaving only the man. The man who loves me. “Then let's go home,” he says. “Our home. The cabin. Just you and me.”
“We can come back here anytime we want, can't we?”
“Anytime you want. I'd crawl here if I had to.”
I actually laugh and help him stand. He's stiff and clearly in pain, but he doesn't complain. When we step out into the hallway, the McCarthy women are waiting. The doc's already gone.
“Take care of him,” Caitlin says quietly.
“And let him take care of you back,” Bronwyn adds.
“And for the love of god,” Kyla says with a grin, “keep him out of the ring for at least a few days, eh?”
I smile at all of them. “I'll do my best.”
As we walk toward the door, I glance back at the McCarthy women one more time. They're smiling, watching us go. And somehow, despite everything that's happened—despite all the pain and fear and violence—it feels perfectly right.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ashland
We're back at the cabin. My cabin. No… ours.
The fire crackles in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the room. Lancelot weaves between the furniture, his tail held high as he curls around my ankles. Christ, it's good to have the cat back.
Her mother sent him without a word. She knows our address now, knows where we are. She doesn't acknowledge it, doesn't reach out. It's good. Bianca needs the distance.
She's curled into my side on the couch, her head tucked under my chin. I've got one hand tangled in her hair, the silky strands sliding through my fingers, while the other traces lazy patterns on her hip. She shifts and lets out a soft hiss.
“Are you sore?” I ask, unable to keep the smirk out of my voice.
“You know damn well I am.” Her cheeks flush that pretty pink I love so much.
Aye, I do. Her arse is still bright red from that spanking she earned. And she loved every bloody second of it. The way she moaned and arched into each smack. The way she begged for more, even as tears streamed down her face. Christ, I made her climax just from that. Then seven more times after. Seven.
It's a new record—one I'll set out to beat… soon.
I might have gone overboard with the aftercare, making sure she knew how much I worship every inch of her, even when I'm disciplining that smart mouth of hers that doesn't like to obey.
“Seamus gave me the week off,” I say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “No checking in, no work. Just the two of us.”
She smiles as she tips her head back to look at me, her eyes warm and soft. “Feels a bit like a honeymoon, doesn't it? Can we get pasta from D'Agostino's?”
“Of course we can, lass. Get anything you feckin' want.” What she doesn't know is that I have a surprise for her that's coming soon. A big one. And I'm gonna wait until she has my ring on her finger to give it to her.
“Good.” She brushes her thumb across my bottom lip.
“We'll have a quiet wedding soon enough. Small, just family.”
“I'd marry you right now if I could,” she whispers, and something clenches in my chest. This beautiful, perfect, infuriating woman chose me. Loves me. Calls me hers.
“I've got somewhere to take you,” I say instead of the words that are choking me.
“Where?”
“A club. It’s called The Craic.”
I watch the realization dawn on her face as her eyes go wide and her lips part on a small inhale.
“I've heard about this club.”
“Have you?” I slide my hand up her hip and feel her shiver. “What'd you hear?”
“That I'm not allowed to go,” she says with a laugh. “Cavin and Erin go, and Erin told me, and I quote: 'It's an exclusive, high-end, curated sex club. Members only. You might find some things to explore there.'”