Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
When I reach her bedroom, I knock on the door, waitin’ for her to reply. The moment it swings open and Einin is standin’ on the other side, in a pair of pajamas and her messy hair, I can’t help but smile.
“Mornin’,” I greet her before offerin’ her the hot drink. “Merry Christmas,” I say, realisin’ I didn’t even wish Miren any season’s greetin’s. My thoughts were so wrapped up in Einin.
“Morning,” she says with a smile, steppin’ aside and allowin’ me entrance. “Merry Christmas,” Einin whispers with a happy smile. “I was about to get dressed and come down to see if I can help.”
“No need.” I turn to her and notice she’s shut the door. I didn’t expect her to be comfortable to be alone with me like this, but I’m thankful she is. “The other ladies have it covered.”
She blows on the coffee before takin’ a long sip. Her lashes flutter against her cheeks, and she makes a sound of pure satisfaction. A sound that makes my blood run hot and my cock throb. I want her to make all those sounds when I finally claim her. I would be a liar if I said I hadn’t thought about it.
“We needed to talk,” I finally say.
I’m anxious. My gut is churnin’ as I consider what I’m about to say. There are so many things that are racin’ through my mind, but I go to her and focus on those pretty feckin’ eyes. They have always been my home. I would look at her and I’d know things would be all right.
Her dark brows furrow before she asks, “Is something wrong?”
“No, no, darlin’,” I say quickly. “If I don’t tell ye this now, I don’t know when I’ll get the courage again. I’m not a man who talks about emotions and all that shite.” I run my fingers through my short hair and sigh. “I spent the past seven years convinced ye’d left me. I figured ye moved on with some college boy.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know.” I turn away from her, ashamed of my stupidity. But she never told me she felt anythin’. Aye, our kiss was feckin’ steamin’ hot, but it coulda just been in the moment.
“I was taken to America for a short time,” Einin finally admits. “I thought I was going to die there. They would do things to us. Make us wear certain clothes,” she admits slowly. I turn to find her sittin’ on the foot end of the bed. Her head lowered, her eyes on the floor. “We would either be clothed in outfits or naked. Bound. They would inspect us like we were livestock.”
“Jesus,” I hiss, anger takin’ hold of me. My blood boilin’ now for a different reason altogether.
“All those times, I would shut my eyes and think about being back in Ballycastle. I would go home, and you know what always got me through?” Now she looks up at me. Her eyes on mine.
“What?”
“You.”
I didn’t expect one word to change my thoughts. I never once imagined what it would be like to see her again, because when the first year passed without a word from her, I convinced myself she had moved on. She took my heart with her when she got on that bus, and I let her. I didn’t fight it.
“Ye left, and I thought ye were done with me.”
“When I told you Da wanted me to leave,” she whispers, and the tears that form on her lashes cause her eyes to shimmer, “I lied.”
“What do you mean?” My chest tightens with fear, worry that she could ever have lied to me. We always told each other the truth, no matter what. It was something we promised each other when our friendship started.
“Ma wanted me to leave because of ye,” she admits. “I think deep down she knew I was falling for ye, and she didn’t want me stuck in a small town for the rest of my life.”
“She thought I’d end up like my da.” The realisation hits me deep. She lied to stop me from getting hurt.
“Aye, but when she told Da about our friendship, he wanted to get involved. He was going to send men up to town to take care of the problem,” Einin spits the last word with venom in her tone.
But my confusion must be clear on my face when she sighs and nods. But I ask anyway, “Men? What are ye talkin’ about?”
But then she admits somethin’ I wasn’t expectin’ from her. “My da was workin’ with the Irish mob.”
Pieces slot into place. It doesn’t take long for me to place each one where they now belong. Einin’s da was workin’ for Bragan. Which means he believed his daughter would be kept safe, or so he thought.
“Did ye da ever get in contact with ye?”