The Fire (Hurricane Book 4)

by R. J. Prescott

  “I imagine that cutting out the cursing would be a good start! I’ve never heard Evelyn raise her voice, let alone swear. She’s such a good Catholic girl. And that hair! You two are going to make me such beautiful grandbabies!” she said, squishing my cheeks together like I was some chubby toddler, no doubt imagining what my offspring would look like.

  “Maaaa,” I whined. “There won’t be any grandbabies if I can’t figure out how to get her to keep seeing me,” I said.

  “Wait, what did you promise her?” she asked. When I explained, she literally doubled over with laughter.

  “I’m glad I amuse you. But seriously, I’m getting enough shit from the boys. I figured you were the one person who could give me some solid advice on how to not fuck this up,” I complained, sulking like a teenager.

  “Don’t you worry baby, there is no one more invested in this than I am. Nothing is getting between me and my grandbabies. But there’s no easy, quick fix for what you’re looking for. You see the differences between her and the other girls you’ve been with as the reasons she’s so special. She’ll see them as the reason you won’t work. Show her that she’s wrong. Spend time, not money. Get to know her, and make her see that you like her just the way she is. Be strong when she’s feeling weak, comfort her when she’s feeling sad. Listen to her, and I mean really listen. Say what you mean, and mean what you say. Only make promises to her that you intend to keep. Don’t rush her, and don’t rush this. Women like Evelyn have no time for boys. So my advice to you Tommy, is this: Be a man. Forget the bravado and the showboating. Open your heart to her. If you do that, if you show her the Tommy we all know, how could she not love you?” Ma said.

  There was absolutely nothing I could say to that, so I opened my arms and gave her a big hug.

  “Love you Ma,” I told her. She swallowed hard and sniffed a bit before answering.

  “I love you too. Now go out and get me those grandbabies.”

  I thought a lot about Ma’s advice as I ran with the lads the next day. Con’s fight was a few months away, so we were all pitching in with the training. Usually it was Kieran who’d pound the pavement with him on the morning run, but we’d all had the misfortune of pissing Danny off, so Liam and I were sent off to run the five miles as well.

  Everything Ma said made sense. I was the king of instant gratification, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t willing to put in the work it took to have a proper relationship. I just had no clue where to start. Kier had suggested I go big. Some grand gesture like he’d done when he sang to Marie in a bar. It wasn’t that I was worried about making a fool of myself, or putting myself out there. I always owned who I was, and was unapologetic for it. If you asked me the world needed more colour, and I wasn’t afraid to shake my rainbow on a regular basis to make that happen. But I had a feeling that something grand and showy wouldn’t win Evie over. I needed something that showed her I knew her. Knew what would make her happy.

  “You’re thinkin’ awful hard about something there Tommy,” Liam said. He was huffing and puffing a little more than the rest of us, but keeping up nonetheless.

  “How did you get Albie to fall in love with you?” I asked, in reply.

  “Um…” he said, sounding confused. “Honestly, I have no fucking clue. We were attracted to each other right off the bat, but love came after friendship.”

  “So, how do I make someone be my friend?” I asked.

  “Shit, I don’t know Tom. You bitches were the only friends I ever had before Albie,” he replied.

  “Thanks. You’ve been a real help,” I said sarcastically.

  “What’s up, cupcake?” Kier asked, falling back in his position next to Con to run next to us.

  “Tommy wants to know how to make Ev his friend,” Liam explained.

  “Actually, I want to know how to get her to fall in love with me, but I’ll settle for how to get her to date me. Oprah here suggested friendship,” I said, using air quotes in a way I knew would piss Liam off. “Which is the worst advice in the history of dating.”

  “Hey! I never suggested anything. You asked how me and Albie fell in love and I told you,” Liam argued.

  “Because I wanted your advice, dipshit,” I replied, then yelped when the fucker punched me on the arm. Kier opened his mouth to speak before I shut him down.

  “Don’t bother suggesting I do something over the top because I’m pretty sure Ev would hate that. I need to buy some time for her to get to know me so she can fall in love with all my awesomeness,” I said.

  Liam rolled his eyes and Kier frowned, probably because he was as fucking clueless as I was about what I should do next.

  “If you can’t get her on a date, crash a date she already has,” Con suggested.

  “Fuck! You’re like a fucking ninja!” I said, not realising that he’d dropped pace and fallen back to join us.

  “And what d’you mean, crash a date?” I asked. “Evie doesn’t date anyone else, and if she did I’d be putting an end to that shit fast.”

  “What I mean, fuck nuts, is that you need to figure out where she’s going and what her plans are and make the most of an opportunity. What does she do in her free time?” Con replied.

  “Church, I guess. The library, going out with Joe and her mates, and she likes to volunteer at the care home,” I answered.

  “The care home! She can’t shoot you down in front of the elderly can she? Because that’s harsh. Just get a couple of the ladies in there on your side and let them go to work for you. Old folks love matchmaking,” Con suggested.

  “You’re a fuckin’ genius!” I replied, already working on a plan.

  “Glad to be of service. Now, if it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could stop gossiping and running like a bunch of old ladies and just pretend for five miles that I actually have a fight to train for?” Con grumbled.

  “For someone who’s hating on old ladies, you sure do bitch like one! Come on then champ, first one back to the gym gets to snog Mrs O’Connell,” I said, slapping him on the arse before I legged it.

  “Mother fucker! You even think about kissing my wife and I will knock you into the middle of next fuckin’ week!” he warned.

  “Yeah, yeah. You have to catch me first lard arse,” I replied. It was the last thing I said before running flat out as fast as I could, for as far as I could. My only hope was that Con would be too worn out to hit me when he finally caught me. And no matter how fast I ran, and how fit I was, he would catch me. Because hell would freeze over before Cormac O’Connell would allow another man to kiss his woman. And for the first time ever, I understood exactly how he felt.

  Chapter Twelve

  EVELYN

  “What are you doing here?” I asked Tommy, shocked to see him in the day room of Summerdale Court Care Home, of all places.

  “I have a date,” he explained, looking quite pleased with himself.

  “What? We don’t have a date, do we?” I asked, racking my brain for any plans we’d made that I’d forgotten about. Given that Tommy had been on my mind incessantly, it seemed unlikely.

  “We don’t,” he replied. “My date is with someone else.”

  I looked him up and down, taking stock of his appearance. Dark, tailored trousers, dress shoes and a fitted shirt, the cuffs rolled to reveal the sexiest forearms I’d ever seen. I tried to pinpoint the reason for my inane reaction to such a random body part. Was it the tattoos? Or the masculine stainless steel watch that cuffed his strong, tanned wrist? I had no idea. But it was a swift kick to the gut to realise that he must be there to pick up one of the nurses. I’d had my chance with him. He’d openly tried to court me, and I’d only agreed to two dates.

  My disappointment was closely followed by a rush of anger. The fact that he’d already moved on told me all I needed to know about how fickle he was. I was right to have been cautious. He treated my fledgling feelings that were growing like a seedling, basking in the sunlight of his attention, like a weed to be stepped on. I’d cry about i
t later, but right then the Irish temper at the heart of me just wanted to kick him in the balls.

  “You look like you’re about to hurt me,” he said, strategically moving the bouquet of beautiful flowers he was holding to protect his wedding tackle. Flowers! And not just cheap, supermarket flowers. This beautiful wildflower arrangement clearly came from a florist. Did he buy them wholesale or something? Clearly my roses had been nothing special and that just elevated my temper from inflamed, to explosive.

  “I’m thinking about it,” I replied, giving him a look so full of fire, I was surprised it didn’t scorch the ground he was standing on.

  “Here’s your date Doris. Isn’t he a handsome one?” Jayne, one of my favourite carers said, as she manoeuvred Doris’s wheelchair to join us. “Tommy, this is Doris, your date for the afternoon. Doris, this is Tommy. He’s a firefighter you know.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Doris. These are for you,” Tommy said, giving Doris the flowers as he bent down to kiss her on the cheek. As he stood, he smiled cheekily and winked. Realising how off base my assumption had been, I could feel myself blushing.

  “Oh, how lovely! I don’t think I’ve had flowers since my Stan passed. Do you think you could put them in some water for me please Jayne?” she said, discreetly wiping her eyes with a delicate, frail hand in a way that made my own fill up.

  “Of course I can. There’s a big glass vase in the kitchen that will do just nicely. I’ll put them in your room for you and you can admire them after your date,” Jayne offered. “Now, Tommy why don’t you take Doris into the conservatory? She likes to enjoy the afternoon sun on the garden and I can bring you both a nice pot of tea.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Do you think if we’re really nice to her, she might even scrounge us up a biscuit or two?” Tommy asked Doris, lowering his head to her conspiratorially.

  “Bugger the biscuits. I know full well there’s half a Battenberg cake in the kitchen. Let’s have a bit of that,” Doris replied with a giggle.

  “Doris Smith, what about your diabetes? You’re supposed to be limiting your sugar,” Jayne replied.

  “My darling Jayne. I have lived through eight recessions, four children and one World War. If they haven’t killed me, I very much doubt that a bit of cake will. What do you say Tommy? Are you with me?” Doris replied.

  “All the way Doris. You had me at cake,” he replied, smiling.

  “I see how it is. The pair of you are going to be trouble together, I can tell. Now, if you think you can manage Doris’ wheelchair Tommy, I’ll go and get the kettle on the boil,” Jayne said.

  “I can give you a hand Jayne,” I offered, quietly, ashamed that I’d thought so badly of Tommy.

  “That would be lovely, thanks Evelyn,” Jayne replied, warmly.

  “Come on then Tommy, wheel me in, and let’s see if you’re any good at backgammon,” Doris ordered.

  “Is it okay if I say goodbye to my girl first?” Tommy asked, as he moved beside me and slipped his fingers through mine. He might as well have grabbed a megaphone and made an announcement to the entire care home. Gossip in that place spread faster than wildfire.

  “Evelyn Danaher, you dark horse! You never told us you were seeing someone!” Jayne said, all but screeching with excitement.

  “It’s kind of new,” I replied. Tommy squeezed my hand, and when I looked up at him, his grin stretched from ear to ear.

  “What are you smiling about?” I whispered.

  “You didn’t deny we were together,” he whispered back. I rolled my eyes at him, but his grin remained, and his happiness was infectious. I bit my lip to avoid smiling back, but failed miserably.

  “I do love a nice bit of gossip with my tea. Come on young man,” Doris ordered, waving Tommy over. “Give your girl a kiss, and come and tell me all about it.”

  “You heard the lady,” Tommy said, and kissing me quickly on the cheek, moved behind Doris’s wheelchair and pushed her into the conservatory, the pair of them chatting away like old friends.

  “God, he smells so good,” I muttered under my breath to myself.

  “He sure is one fine looking man. I’d pay good money to see him in uniform,” Jayne said.

  “Jayne!” I exclaimed, slightly shocked. She was old enough to be his mother! Neither of us took our eyes off his retreating figure though, and I suspected that I wasn’t the only one staring at his fine arse.

  “Sorry Evelyn. There isn’t a straight woman under the age of sixty who wouldn’t be thinking the same thing. I don’t know how you found him, but you must be absolutely off your rocker if you’re not climbing that boy like a tree every chance you get,” she said, and nudging me playfully with her hip, she left me, mouth open like a goldfish, as she went to make the tea.

  Three hours later, I waved goodbye to the girls on the reception desk and walked out the door to find the object of my obsession, leaning nonchalantly against a wall, with his hands in his pockets.

  “Hey, darlin’,” he said, his gaze heated as his eyes met mine.

  “Were you waiting for me?” I asked, hopefully. Every time I second guessed Tommy, I came up short, so I was done with making assumptions about him.

  “Evie,” he chucked, “who else would I be waiting for?”

  I looked down at my shoes, a little embarrassed.

  “Why are you here, Tommy?” I asked, closing my eyes as he stood before me. It was a reaction, not a choice. Everything about him was overwhelming. The seductive scent of his aftershave. The warmth of his body, so big and close that I should have been intimidated. Instead, I felt out of control. It was like I’d spent my entire life over-exposed to so many emotions and deprived entirely of others. I knew fear and guilt, anger and frustration. Now there was joy and anticipation. Lust and longing. If there was a sane, sensible way to process it all, I didn’t know it. His knuckle lifted my chin, and I finally opened my eyes to see his beautiful brown irises trained solely on me.

  “I’m here for you Evelyn. You’re my reason for everything. If you’re here on my days off, then it’s where I want to be. If being here makes you happy, then I want to be a part of that too. I’m fucking selfish like that. I want all your happy moments to call my own,” he replied.

  “How do you always know what to say?” I asked, melting slightly as he tucked a lock of unruly hair behind my ear and grazed my cheek slowly with his thumb.

  “Are you kidding me? I fuck things up all the time by saying the wrong thing, but I’m not stupid, and I learn from my mistakes. I might not be what you wanted, but if you give me a chance, I’ll prove that I can be who you need,” he said.

  “You don’t have to turn your life upside down for me Tommy. I like you. You don’t have to prove anything for me to know that. But trust and happiness are like apples and pears. If you want to pick the fruit, you have to plant the seed and watch it grow,” I explained. I wanted him so badly it hurt, but I wanted to be confident in the strength of his feelings for me, and that would take time.

  “Say it again,” he demanded.

  “Say what again?” I asked, confused.

  “Tell me you feel what I’m feeling. That I’m not making a fool of myself for someone who doesn’t want me the same way. Tell me you need me too,” he replied.

  It was that moment. On a cold, winter’s afternoon. Outside the door to a care home in Canning Town, with the eyes of staff members, and Lord knows how many residents watching us, I gave my heart to the only boy I ever cared about.

  “I feel it,” I whispered.

  His answering smile was the most glorious thing I’d ever seen. The crack of thunder, and the droplets of cold water splashing down on us should have broken the spell, but we were oblivious to anything but each other. The falling rain washed away the past, taking with it all of the reasons why the two of us shouldn’t work. Calloused fingers cupped my cheek almost reverently, and then, with the sure and certain knowledge that nothing had ever felt more right, I lifted my lips to his.

  The ki
ss wasn’t chaste, or innocent. It wasn’t pure or polite. It was passion and fire and so much of everything, I couldn’t bear to stop. His hand in the small of my back pulled me towards him, until there wasn’t a millimetre of space between us. Tentatively, his tongue stroked against mine and I groaned in response, gripping his neck in desperation for more. There was no way of truly immortalising in words how it felt to be so perfectly consumed.

  It wasn’t a beginning. Not for me. It was the end. The end of the possibility that my lips might ever touch another’s. The end of pretending that I could ever feel anything more perfect with anyone else. Kisses are such beautiful intimacies, but first kisses are a gift. The memory of it will live with you forever. If every other kiss was wasted, the first should be treasured.

  Our lips parted reluctantly, and he rested his forehead against mine.

  “Wow,” he whispered, breathlessly.

  “You say that like you haven’t kissed dozens of other girls,” I replied, smiling. There was no word that could describe my happiness as I teased him, and he knew that I was teasing. There was a knowing between us now. An understanding that had changed us both.

  “It may have been one or two more than that,” he replied, playfully.

  “I see how it is. Are we talking hundreds of girls or thousands then?” I said.

  “The hundreds. Almost definitely the hundreds,” he replied, still grinning from ear to ear.

  “And yet, you still say wow.”

  “Evie, not only was that the best kiss I’ve ever had, it was my last first kiss. And yours. I think that deserves a wow,” he said.

  “Awful sure of yourself there Mr Riordon, aren’t you? It wasn’t that good of a kiss. Not enough to be swearing off all other men for life, without any other experience to compare it to,” I replied. He clutched his heart playfully, like I’d mortally wounded him.