Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“Come on, man,” he screeches. “You can’t do me like this. Have a heart.”
The two of us grab our shovels and start the long process of covering his body with dirt. He bitches and moans about it the entire time, and I don’t bother to acknowledge any of it until we’re ready to cover his face.
“For every minute you still have breath in your lungs, I want you to think about my wife and my son. Think about how sorry you are that you even considered laying a hand on them.”
“I’m sorry,” he blurts. “So fucking sorry.”
His wasted words are smothered by a shovel full of dirt on his face. After that, Alexei and I work in silence, burying Slick and sending a message to anyone else who thinks they can take what’s mine.
“What do you think?”
Archer glances around the room and shrugs. “It’s nice, mama.”
I can’t help but laugh when I meet Conor’s eyes. The house is a lot more than nice. It’s more than I ever could have dreamed of having. Conor told me to pick out a house, any house I wanted, and even if I never said it out loud, he knew this was the one. The Victorian style townhouse is in the Beacon Hill neighborhood, only a few doors down from some of his other friends. I feel safe here, as Conor intended, and I hope Archer does too.
After moving all day, we’re exhausted and ready to settle into our new space. But Conor and I still have plans to celebrate. I get Archer tucked into bed and go over my instructions with Rory again. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being nervous about letting him out of my sight, but over the past two months, I’ve come to understand that Conor was right. These guys protect their own and they won’t let anything happen to Archer, or even me, on their watch.
“You ready, hot mama?” Conor wraps his arms around me from behind and feathers his lips over the length of my neck.
“I think so.” I turn into him and drag his mouth to mine, kissing him like it’s our last day on earth. Conor grunts and pulls away with a wicked smile.
“If ye keep at that, we won’t be making it out the door.”
He threads his fingers through mine and leads me to the car. He gave me warning this time, so I already know where we’re going. And for Conor, I’m ready to try again. This is important to him, so I try not to let my nerves get the best of me as he drives us to Sláinte.
The drive is far too short, and when we pull into the parking lot, Conor turns off the ignition, but doesn’t get out of the car. Now he’s the one who looks nervous, and it’s totally freaking me out.
“I have something for you,” he says. “A couple things actually.”
“Oh.” I rasp. “What is it?”
An awkward laugh rumbles from his chest as he taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “Chrissakes, this is ridiculous. I’m fumbling like a schoolboy.”
“It’s okay,” I insist. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
Warmth bleeds into his eyes, and it must be infectious because I feel it in my chest too.
“I just want ye to know this wasn’t the way I intended for it to go down. I wanted to give it to ye earlier, but with the moving and everything, there was never a perfect time. You deserve something more romantic, but I’m not very good at that stuff.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small black box, and my heart beats wildly in anticipation. Conor doesn’t think he’s romantic, but he has no idea how much that isn’t true. Because when he looks at me with that boyish smile and flips open the box, I couldn’t imagine anything better than this.
“Sorry it’s taken me so long to sort ye out a proper ring, but I wanted it to be just right.”
I examine the vintage diamond ring through bleary eyes, nodding my approval. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s an antique, but if you don’t like it, we can get ye a different one. I just liked the story that came with this.”
“What story?” I ask.
“This ring belonged to a couple who were mad about each other. They came from two different worlds and didn’t have a lick in common. She was a society girl, and he was the son of a farmer with barely two nickels to rub together. Against her family’s protests, they ran off and got married, and then he was sent off to war.”
“What happened to them?” I press. “Did he live?”
“He was captured and presumed dead,” Conor says. “For six years, they told her that was so, but she couldn’t believe it. She never took off the ring. She never gave up hope. And then one day out of the blue, he appeared on their doorstep. They spent the next fifty years together and died within days of each other. She wore the ring for all that time, vowing that as long as she kept it on, he would always come back to her.”