“Mention that again, and I’ll punch you right in your nose.”
He leans down suddenly and buries his face in my hair. He inhales deeply, then exhales and sighs in contentment. His shoulders relax.
I wind my arms around them and turn my cheek to his, lowering my voice to a whisper. “Things are different now. Do you actually think we can go back to ignoring each other at work after this?”
“We have to try.”
“Oh, really? The way you’re sniffing my neck would indicate otherwise.”
“Don’t be stubborn about this. Let it go.”
“No. Sorry.”
“You’re not sorry.”
“You’re right, I’m not.”
He burrows closer, sliding his arms under my body so he can squeeze me hard against his chest. We lie like that for a moment, just holding each other, until he murmurs, “I should let you rest.”
“No, you should give me an orgasm.”
“Goddammit, woman.”
“Stop trying to control me. You know I’ll win.”
He releases me and stands. Then, because it seems to be the way he gets his exercise, he starts to pace again. I prop myself up on my elbows and watch him until I start to get tired.
“Hey. Handsome.”
He shoots me a tense sideways glance but doesn’t stop pacing.
“How about this? Let’s not call it a relationship. We’ll call it a situationship instead.”
His look sours.
“Fine, it doesn’t have to be categorized. We won’t call it anything. It will be The Thing That Must Remain Nameless. And we’ll be very circumspect around the office so no one will know. I’ll even pretend to hate you. Everybody will believe me because you’re pretty awful.”
He stops pacing. “I’m awful?”
“Yes.”
“Like how awful?”
“Like so bad your nickname is the Grinch. Oh, look, there’s that face you make when someone tells you some truth you find annoying.”
“I’m not making a face.”
“You are. It’s like, ‘Ew, smelly peasant, get out of my way with your rotting teeth and dirty rags, can’t you see the king of the universe is passing through?’ Like that. Super arrogant and scornful. I’ve thought more than once that you must practice it in front of a mirror.”
He gazes at me in agitated silence, jaw working, eyes narrowed. Then he drops his head and starts to laugh.
“Does this mean I win?”
“No, funny girl, it doesn’t. But it does mean I’ll make you breakfast. In the meantime, lie there and think about all my red flags that are waving in your face. Then make the right decision.”
“I’m not changing my mind, Cole. Like it or not, I’m your girlfriend now.”
Shaking his head, he walks out of the room.
Cole
I’m cooking scrambled eggs in a saucepan I found under her stove, watching my hands shake and marveling at it.
I’m never unsteady like this, but I know it’s not because of what I did last night.
It’s because of her. The effect she has on me.
“Like it or not, I’m your girlfriend now,” she declared, as if it was a court ruling. As if it was inevitable. Final.
As if it wasn’t the worst decision she’d ever make.
Yes, I fantasized about her a million different ways before now. And yes, I wanted to know her better. But I didn’t know how her instant acceptance of what I’m capable of would feel. I didn’t know how it would move me.
Looking into her eyes as she said she didn’t care about Dylan, only about me, something heavy and profound shifted inside my soul, like tectonic plates moving under the surface of the planet, reworking how everything looks above.
She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She didn’t accuse me of being a monster. She simply heard the awful truth and accepted it with a grace I don’t deserve.
Then she shoved a stake in the ground and claimed me as her territory.
I’ve never met anyone like her.
I’m not sure if she’s a blessing or a curse.
My cell rings. I fish it from my pocket, glance at the screen, and put it to my ear. “Killian. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”
“And I wasn’t expecting to hear you eighty-sixed one of your employees, but here we are.”
It shouldn’t surprise me that he knows. Killian Black always knows everything. What’s surprising is that he’s calling me about it.
He usually stays out of my way, working mainly with Callum and my father, who both think I’m ignorant of their business relationship with the notorious former head of the Irish mob. He supposedly died years ago but is alive and well and running a thirteen-member cabal of powerful families like mine who work alongside—but mostly around—international law enforcement.
Suffice it to say, I’m not ignorant. But it benefits me to let my family think so.
“That a problem for you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“The problem is your brother.”
I scoff. “What’s Callum done now? Hacked a government satellite to spy on his wife?”
“Not Callum. Carter.”
I frown. My younger brother isn’t involved in anything more problematic than throwing too many cocktail parties on his yacht and trying to write them off as company expenses.
“What’s happening with Carter?”
“He met with the executive team at TriCast.”
Killian might as well have kicked me in the stomach for how my body reacts to hearing that sentence. My breath is knocked out of me. I almost drop the spatula I’m holding from shock.
“TriCast? They’re our biggest competitor. We hate each other. Why the hell would he meet with them?”
“Because they’re tired of being in competition, mate. They made him an offer to acquire.”
“Acquire? As in us?”
“Aye.”
“Does my father know?”
“No. Nor Callum. Carter did this on his own.”
Infuriated that my brother would be so reckless, not to mention underhanded, I snap, “That little fucker. I’m gonna rip off his dumb Ken doll head.”
“It’s only a matter of time before it gets out. A McCord taking a meeting with the board of TriCast will get people thinking you’ve got problems internally. Financial problems at least. Thought you’d like to know so you can be ready to spin it in your favor.”
“I appreciate it. Out of curiosity, why didn’t you call Callum about this?”
He chuckles. “Don’t take this the wrong way, mate, but your older brother’s as likely to throw Carter off a roof as he is to have a heart-to-heart talk with him about loyalty. I didn’t want to be the cause of the lad’s premature death.”
“Good point. Thank you, Killian.”
“You’re welcome. And your new lass is a firecracker. Best of luck.”
He disconnects, leaving me standing there wondering if the last time I saw him, he implanted me with some kind of microscopic GPS device with an audio-video component.
I wouldn’t put it past him.
“Hi.”
Shay stands by the refrigerator, watching me. She changed out of her wrinkled work clothes and is wearing a short robe now, a black silk one that shows off her legs and bare feet to perfection, along with every beautiful curve.
I slip the phone back into my pocket and try to pretend the sight of her isn’t devastating. “Hi. What are you doing up?”
“I heard your voice, so then I missed you. I think the eggs are burning.”
Looking back at the saucepan, I flip the eggs over with the spatula and inspect the results. “Depends on your definition of burning.”
“I didn’t realize the word had multiple definitions.”
“Sure it does. Like girlfriend does. Could mean a friend who’s a female, could mean something else entirely.”
As I turn off the gas and move the pan to a cool burner, she walks closer, smiling.
“Hmm. Sounds complicated.”
“It is.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“It still is.”
“If I try to tuck myself under your arm, will you push me away? Just checking first to see how much resistance I’ll be met with so I can prepare a counteroffensive.”
When I sigh, she sneaks over and pulls my arm around her shoulders. Turning her face to my chest, she winds her arms around my waist and smiles wider.
“You’re trouble,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“Says Mr. Trouble himself. By the way, I brushed my teeth.”