The situation calls for drastic measures, and I spring into action, yanking fistfuls of Dillon’s hair and pulling his head back. He has a cut lip, and one of his eyes is swollen. Acting on instinct, I smash my lips to his, pushing my tongue into his mouth as I kiss him hard.
I need to bring him back to me, and this is the only way I can think to get through to him. Gradually, I feel him loosening against me, kissing me back, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Until I’m shoved from behind, and Dillon and I tumble to the side, away from Cillian.
Fresh rage builds behind Dillon’s eyes as he helps me to my feet, pushing me behind him, using his body to shield me as he faces off against his former friend. Wrangling out of his hold, I move to his side, grabbing him to keep him from charging again. “You cheating cunt! You stay the hell away from my sister, and if you ever touch my girlfriend again, I’ll fucking kill you!” Dillon roars.
“You’re a crazy bastard, O’Donoghue.” Cillian sways on his feet, spitting blood onto the ground. He lifts the hem of his shirt, using it to dab blood off his face. “I let you have the first few punches, because I deserved those, but you don’t get to threaten me, asshole. Your sister wanted it. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Except cheat on your wife,” I hiss.
“This is nothing to do with you.” He jabs his finger in my direction. “Butt out.”
Dillon jerks forward, and I grab his shirt, yanking him back. “Let it go,” I say, working hard to sound calm. “This ends now.”
“Like fuck it does,” Cillian yells. He points his finger at Dillon. “I’ll have you arrested for assault, you prick.” Clutching his middle, he grimaces.
“I’ll have you arrested for trespassing,” Ash shouts, climbing to her feet, as she appears to emerge from her fugue state.
I step forward, glaring at the degenerate in front of me, done with playing nice. “You will not press charges against Dillon. If you even breathe a word of what happened here today, we will go straight to your wife and your parents and tell them you’ve been stalking Ash for months and you forced yourself on her today when she was stoned and incapable of pushing you away.”
“That’s bullshit,” he splutters. “No one will believe you.”
I wave my cell in his face. “I recorded you,” I lie. “Whatever the circumstances, it shows your wife you were cheating on her. And if ruining your marriage isn’t enough, I’ll ruin your fucking career too. I’ll email this to your boss. I’ll post it on social media. I’ll destroy your reputation.” I would never, in a million years, do any of those things. Even saying it feels like I’m sinking to new lows, but there is nothing I won’t do to protect Dillon and Ash.
His eyes narrow suspiciously. “Who are you?”
“I’m your worst fucking nightmare.” I glare at him, taking another step forward. “Don’t fucking push me, Cillian. I can ruin your life like that.” I snap my fingers.
“You’re all fucking mad,” he says, his gaze bouncing between the three of us. “And you two are a match made in hell.” He jabs his finger between Dillon and me.
“Leave,” I command. “Don’t say a word about Dillon or Ash. Not if you value the life you’ve got.”
“Crazy bitch,” he mutters, and Ash and I pounce on Dillon to hold him back.
Cillian walks off, shaking his head and muttering to himself. Wow. Ash sure knows how to pick ‘em.
Not that I can throw stones.
Cillian staggers down the driveway, almost falling a couple times. A car slows going past him, and I spot Fiona behind the wheel. Thankfully, she doesn’t stop, heading toward the house.
“Well, that was fun.” Sarcasm drips from my tone as I stare at brother and sister. “We should do that again some time.”
“Bloody hell.” Dillon reels me into his arms. “Is it wrong I’m turned on right now?”
“Yes,” Ash and I say in unison.
“Let’s get back to the house.” I thread my fingers in his. “We need to clean you up, and you.” I swing my gaze on Ash. “You, my friend, have a lot of explaining to do.”
54
“What has gotten into you today?” I ask Dillon, ten minutes later, as I tend to his injuries in the main bathroom. My man is shirtless, sitting on the closed toilet seat, with me in between his legs attempting to clean him up. We left Ash downstairs to explain the mess she made to the family. I have no clue what she’s going to tell her parents, but I doubt it’ll be the full truth.
“I’m not sorry I beat that shithead’s ass.” He winces as I clean the cut on his lip. “Just sorry you had to see it.” He grabs my wrist, stalling my movements. “I don’t know why you’re with me when we both know I’m not good enough for you.”
“I know nothing of the sort.”
He looks at me with such vulnerability I almost cry. “Hey.” I wrap one arm around him, holding him gently to my chest. “I’m with you because you’re an amazing person. You’re talented, sweet, sexy, funny, caring, thoughtful, and you make me happy.”
“Do you really mean that?” he asks, rubbing circles on the inside of my wrist with his thumb.
“I do, Dil.” I press a kiss to his head.
Silence engulfs us for a few beats. “I’m also moody, short-tempered, and an angry bastard a lot of the time. I definitely curse too much. And I should probably go easier on the beer and the weed.”
“You forget reckless and a rule-breaker,” I tease, smoothing a hand up and down his back.
“Those too. And that’s exactly it. You deserve so much better than me. I’m not worthy of you, Viv.”
His self-deprecation is killing me. Why can’t he see the things I see in him? Why doesn’t he see himself the way his family does? Ash would tie herself to a stake for Dillon, and I’m pretty sure his mom would walk over hot coals for him. Ruffling his hair, I kneel in front of him. “Dillon. Please don’t do this. I’m with you because I want to be with you. I like all the different sides of you, and no one is without flaws. Not even me,” I joke, desperately wanting to lighten the moment.
“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, bending down to kiss me. “I know I made a joke of it outside, but you standing up for me to him meant everything.” A familiar smirk appears on his face along with those cute dimples I love, and I silently rejoice. “It did also turn me on.” Taking my hand, he places it on his crotch, waggling his brows.
“No more sex until we get home,” I warn, standing and grabbing the washcloth.
“What now?” Dillon asks, sighing wearily as we step foot in the hallway. I have cleaned up his lip, put an ice pack on his eye, and applied arnica cream to the faint bruising on one cheek. Soft cries filter out from the living room, and we walk inside, hand in hand, wondering what drama is unfolding now. Surely Ash didn’t tell them she was fucking Cillian outside? “What’s wrong?” Dillon casts worried glances around the room.
“The bridesmaids’ dresses have gone missing in the post, and the designer can’t ship new ones in time,” Cath explains.
The wedding is only a few weeks away, so I feel Fiona’s pain, and maybe I can do something about it. “Does anyone have a picture of the dress?” I ask.
“I do.” Ash pulls out her phone. Her eyes light up as she passes it to me, and I know she knows where I’m going with this.
I examine the pretty knee-length strapless silk and chiffon dress in jade green. It would be easy to make, and I can rustle them up in next to no time now I have zero commitments. I hand the cell back to Ash, trading a conspiratorial smile with my Irish bestie, before I face the bride. “I can make replicas of that dress, no problem. How many do you need?”
“What?” Fiona splutters, turning around in Shane’s arms, pinning me with red-rimmed swollen eyes.
“Vivien has offered to make the dresses for you, love.” Cath pats her back while beaming at me.
“You can do that?” Fiona asks in a shaky voice.
“Of course, she can. I showed you our dresses from the ball. Viv made both,” Ash proudly explains. “These are simple in comparison.”
“They are,” I reassure her. “And now my exams are finished, I have plenty of time to make them before the wedding.”