The Final Hour (Dublin Nights Book 5)

by Brittney Sahin

  My fingers feathered over the spines of the books on the tall mahogany shelf closest to me. Sean’s mother had a love of literature akin to my father’s, and her collection was extensive.

  “What song is this? I like it.” I removed Romeo and Juliet from the shelf and held it to my chest. Rival families. A great love ending in death. Why I held on to it like it was a book of revelations into my own life was beyond me.

  “Um.” Anna stealthily reached for her mobile from where the music played without dropping Braden. “It’s called, ‘Ask me how I know.’ It sounds crazy, but I’m pretty sure Braden’s taste in music is genetic. He’s got some Kentucky in him for sure.”

  I barely heard her, stilling when the lyrics finally clicked with me. The music resonated on a level I wasn’t ready to accept, and it was as if I were the singer, and the song was about Sean and me. Stubborn. Afraid to settle down. Falling for someone. Chills erupted over my skin as the meaning of the song hit me.

  “You okay?”

  The book nearly slipped from my grasp, and I quickly shelved it. “Of course.” Polished smile? Yes. Shoulders back? Check.

  “I think I’m close to transforming Adam into a cowboy as well as a country music fan.” I shot her a more than shocked look, and Anna wrinkled her nose and lightly laughed. “Alright, probably not.”

  Seeing her so carefree and chuckling about the man she loved had me surprisingly loosening up a bit, especially when she pointed to a little sign nailed between the two bookshelves. “‘Sometimes I laugh so hard the tears run down my leg.’” Sean’s mother had a sense of humor. I liked that.

  “Cara loves proverbs,” Anna said softly. “Obviously, literature. She works a good proverb into a lot of our conversations.”

  Cara and Ronan McGregor. Two loving parents. They’d nearly divorced in the months leading up to Holly and Sebastian’s wedding. Through Sebastian, I’d been aware of how it had affected all of their kids, as well as what a gift it was for Holly when her parents announced they’d gotten back together the night she married the love of her life.

  Anna stood and gently set Braden into the travel playpen, and he rolled to his side, already asleep.

  “Brava,” I commented, turning to look through the open doorway to spy on Sean and Ethan talking down the hall. Ethan had brought Sara to dinner, and Sean was giving him some type of big-brother lecture from the looks of it.

  I’d already begun working to corroborate her story. I wasn’t prepared to trust her intentions, especially not after Sean paid off her debt to the German Alliance leader.

  “What do you think of her?” Anna stood next to me, reading my thoughts. “My mother always says there’s not a pot too crooked that a lid won’t fit, but I’m getting the vibe that lid isn’t for Ethan.”

  I stole a look at Anna and smiled. “You’re going to have to translate that for me.”

  She went back to the couch and turned off the music on her mobile. Anna had curled her strawberry-blonde hair and was wearing a classy, red knee-length dress with capped sleeves and a gold belt around her waist. She was a classic Southern beauty.

  I shifted my gaze away from the hall and peered down at my ensemble. Black, high-waisted trousers cinched with a sash at my waist, paired with gold pointed-toe pumps and a gold silk long-sleeved blouse. Dangly gold earrings. For the first time in my life, I’d agonized over what to wear, finally settling on what I thought was an appropriate outfit for a McGregor family holiday dinner. I hoped, at least.

  I’d met Sean’s parents before, but I had the sudden urge to make a good impression.

  When Sean picked me up at the hotel an hour ago, his gaze had swept over me with as much desire as if I’d been naked. And yet, I was still unsure about where we stood.

  We’d stayed in Scotland later than planned. Even though a source had informed us that Atlas had checked out of the hotel before dawn, eliminating the chance of bumping into him in the lobby, I hadn’t been ready to break free of the cocoon Sean and I had spun around ourselves. Plus, I was worried I might never let it happen again.

  “I swear when I listen to country music, I start talking like my sisters.”

  I shook my thoughts free and pulled my focus back to Anna.

  “I get the feeling that Adam enjoys your Southern accent.” I peeked back into the hall, but Sean and Ethan were gone.

  “I was just saying there’s a match for everyone, but I don’t get a good vibe about Sara. Not sure she’s the match for Ethan,” Anna explained, and it took me a second to remember she was obliging me with a translation of her mother’s Southern proverb.

  “I’m looking into her.” I hadn’t meant to be so bold, but Anna knew who I was, unlike Sean’s parents, so I had nothing to hide from her. “Anna?” I faced her. “When you look at Sean, what do you see, for, um, a lid?” What am I saying?

  Anna set a hand to my shoulder, her green eyes brimming with sincerity. I could almost visualize the rolling green hills of Kentucky as she observed me. “I’m pretty sure that man has already found the perfect lid.” She lightly squeezed my shoulder, then started for the hall.

  You’re mine, Emilia Calibrisi. Sean’s words to me right before he came the first time we’d had sex kept spinning around my head.

  I lifted my eyes to the ceiling. Why’d you do this to me? But Papà didn’t answer back. He never did.

  “You have a second?” Cole slipped into the study and gently shut the French doors. Well, that couldn’t be good.

  “What’s wrong?” I cut straight to the point and closed the space between us.

  Cole cupped his mouth for a moment.

  “That asshole not talking yet?” I whispered.

  He lowered his palm, eyes growing dark. “The arsehole is still not awake yet. The doctor we brought in said he’s in a coma.”

  My stomach dropped. “Did you tell Sean?”

  Cole grimaced. “What, right before our happy family dinner, tell my cousin he may have killed a guy?”

  “Don’t tell him that.” I circled his wrist with a tight grip, my thoughts flying. “He may wake up. Just tell Sean he’s awake but not talking yet.”

  “You want me to lie?” His brows rose.

  “Yes,” I said without hesitation. “And people wake up from comas all the time,” I added in a steady tone. “No sense in ruining Sean’s Christmas when we don’t know the outcome yet.”

  “Emilia—” Cole let go of his words at the sound of the doors opening.

  I quickly retracted my hand from Cole’s wrist as Sean entered.

  “Everything okay?” Sean asked, eyes darting between us.

  Cole gave me an oh, shit look before turning toward his cousin. “She’s trying to figure out what to buy a man who has everything.” He strode toward him, tipped his head, then left Sean and me alone in the study.

  Don’t let that man die, I pleaded, sending up a silent prayer. Sean hadn’t killed anyone yet, and I knew he’d hate himself if the man he punched—maybe to death—never woke.

  My eyes cut back to Sean, and I put on as real of a smile as possible, choosing to push thoughts of what Cole told me to the back burner.

  “I know something only you can give me,” Sean teased in a seductive voice. And there went my negative thoughts.

  He looked devilishly handsome in casual clothes. Dark denim jeans with black loafers. A lightweight black jumper with a zipper pulled down a bit to show a hint of his black tee beneath. His hair was styled with a touch of gel, and that dashing smile I adored was surrounded by a light growth of beard. But those stunning blue eyes of his were a lasso around my heart. Pulling me closer every time I saw him.

  Lasso? Maybe Anna’s country music was getting to me.

  “You good?” He approached Braden in his playpen and stole a look, then came back over to me.

  During the few seconds that it took Sean to check on his nephew, I quickly established my guard. What I really wanted to do was spin that cocoon around us again and repeat the intimacy we shar
ed in Scotland. Sean was an adventure I wasn’t allowed to have, though, so I crossed my arms over my chest and wiped all emotion from my face.

  “Emilia?” He gently gripped my bicep.

  “Dinner almost ready?” I deflected. It was for the best. Besides, I was unsure of where we were headed after last night. And this morning. And the two orgasms in the hotel before we left this afternoon.

  “Five minutes.” He released me and pocketed his hands.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t help in the kitchen.” I left his side to read a few more spines on the bookshelf.

  “It’s no worry at all.”

  “Your mother must be shocked that I’m Italian and don’t know how to cook.” I stopped at the sight of Great Expectations. “You were right. You’re no Pip,” I said at the memory from our night in Vegas.

  “Most certainly not,” he responded with a light laugh.

  I continued walking around the room, eyeing the shelves, and he kept up with me while maintaining a little space between us. “My nonna, my grandmother on Papà’s side, died when I was seven, but Papà said she was an excellent cook.” I swallowed and turned, surprised to find he’d moved closer.

  He angled his head, his gaze growing heated. “You have many other talents, so your lack of cooking prowess shouldn’t bother you too much.”

  “I can make pasta. The box kind. And you know, use sauce from a jar.” Shut up, Emilia. You’re babbling.

  His brows scrunched as he leaned in even closer, and I gathered a whiff of his cologne. “Are you nervous?” One hand went to the bookshelf over my shoulder.

  I set a palm on his chest. “I don’t do—”

  “Everyone gets nervous.” His eyes zeroed in on my mouth as if he were imagining the kiss he wished to set upon my lips.

  “We should get to dinner,” I rushed out.

  Sean pushed away from the bookshelf and placed his hands behind his back. “If that’s what you want.” A challenge cut through his tone. I heard it loud and clear.

  Oh, I wanted to rip the jumper over his head and rake my fingernails down his washboard abs. Smooth my palms over his taut body and sink them lower into his trousers.

  But this wasn’t the time or place. His family was down the hall prepping for a holiday dinner, and the last thing I needed was his mother walking in on her son doing naughty things to me against her shelf of Shakespeare and Dickens.

  I didn’t worry much about other people’s opinions, but I found myself caring a hell of a lot about what Sean’s mother would think of me.

  When I didn’t respond, Sean turned and held out a hand, motioning for us to move on.

  We walked in silence, side by side, down the long hallway, the walls of which were lined with family photos as well as quotes from literature and proverbs, beautifully penned and framed like works of art. Before making a turn into the dining room, I paused at the sight of the last frame, a quote by Oscar Wilde. Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are all dead.

  “It’s true,” Sean spoke up, and I peeked at him, my heartbeat gaining momentum.

  “And if I’m already dead on the inside?” I whispered, lifting my face as if he’d hooked his finger beneath my chin to guide my eyes his way.

  “Not possible.” He brought his face close to mine, clearly not caring if anyone saw us. “You’re the most alive person I’ve ever met,” he added in a husky voice, then tapped the wall with a closed hand and entered the dining room.

  I was startled when a single tear began to slide down my cheek before I realized what was happening. I dismissed it, dismissed whatever truth was trying to get free, pulled myself together, and followed him into the room.

  “Aw, too bad your sister and her son couldn’t join us for the holidays,” I overheard Sean’s mother say as I entered. She was off to the side of the table, talking to Cole.

  “Her idiot ex wouldn’t let her bring Jack here this year. At least my parents can spend the holidays with Bree and Jack in New York, though,” Cole answered, then pulled out the chair for Alessia.

  A table for twenty stretched the length of the enormous room. Gleaming hardwood floors reflected the crackling fire roaring in a large brick fireplace flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the backyard.

  A festive arrangement of holly and garland decorated the center of the table on top of a red tablecloth. And the food looked and smelled delicious.

  “Thank you so much for having me,” I said when Cara set her sights on me, the last to join the table.

  I sat opposite Sean, finding myself between Alessia and Holly, which I would normally find comfortable, but this seat afforded Sean the chance to confirm just how nervous I really was whenever he looked directly into my eyes.

  My plan also included avoiding looking at Cole as much as possible since I could tell he was uncomfortable with my request, but if he loved his cousin, he’d protect him. And that meant lying to Sean.

  “We’re so happy to have you, dear.” Cara patted my back and sat at the end of the table while Sean’s dad, Ronan, occupied the other end.

  Sean stood, lifted a bottle of wine, and leaned across the table to fill my glass.

  “Such a gentleman,” Ethan joked, and then Sara not-so-subtly elbowed Ethan, a hint to do the same for her.

  Sara looked as polished as Anna in a similar dress but the color of holly. Her hair was in a chignon with two big pearls decorating her ears.

  Holly and Alessia also played up the holidays in their ensembles. Red trousers and white silk shirts. They’d accidentally dressed alike.

  Adam, Cole, and Ethan all went for the casual look like Sean. And Sebastian was the only one in black trousers with a black dress shirt. Sometimes I wondered if the man knew the meaning of casual.

  Ethan raised his glass once everyone had theirs filled, and we all did the same. “To quote my favorite saying, ‘May your glass be ever full. May the roof over your head be always strong. And may you be in heaven a half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead.’”

  “That’s horrible,” Sara remarked, then took a modest sip of her red wine.

  “I much prefer the proverb, ‘A good laugh and a long sleep are the two best cures for anything,’” Cara said and clinked glasses with Anna sitting next to her.

  “You got something that ails ya, Ma?” Ethan asked, and Cara playfully waved away his question with a smile.

  “Any Italian sayings you’d like to share?” Cara’s dark lashes framed her crystal blue eyes as she turned her attention on me. Her hair was a match to Adam’s dark instead of Sean’s light hair. I had to assume Sean’s father had once had light hair before he’d gone gray, or somehow, it’d skipped a generation.

  I thought for a moment, then spoke in Italian first before repeating the line by Dante in English, “‘We cannot have a perfect life without friends.’” And as I sat there, observing everyone so full of love at the table, I wondered if Dante should have added family, too.

  “Mm. I’m framing that quote.” Cara opened her palms, inviting us to link hands, and then she said an Irish blessing and told us to all eat.

  Spiced beef, boiled potatoes, Brussels sprouts, and a variety of other foods were the main meal. I’d had my eye on the soda bread since I’d first smelled it baking when we arrived.

  “This is delicious,” I said a few bites later. “Thank you to everyone who cooked.”

  “My only contribution was the Brussels sprouts,” Anna said between bites.

  “As kids, we hated Brussels sprouts before even trying them. It was the foul smell. And they are bloody terrible. Well, they were.” Adam added some of the veggie to his plate. “But then this woman came into my life and kindly explained we’ve been making them wrong all these years, the mistake being that we boiled them.”

  “The secret to Southern foods is frying,” Anna added with a light laugh, and I had to wonder if the two lovebirds were playing footsies under the table. You wouldn’t think they’d
been together for years.

  For a brief moment, I contemplated lifting my heel to skim the point along Sean’s leg, and then I realized that was an insane thought, so I focused on my meal.

  “Emilia, how is business? It must be a lot to juggle after your father died,” Ronan asked after some light banter went back and forth between Sean and his family. He’d dressed more casually than his wife this evening. A beige jumper with khakis compared to his wife’s white cashmere dress matched with brown boots.

  “Oh, when my father died, he left CEOs in charge to handle his various business holdings. I only run one business, so my schedule is more flexible.”

  “Which one?” Ronan reached for a bottle of whiskey, swapping his wine for something with more kick.

  Sean cleared his throat, eyes lifting to mine.

  “We’re sort of in the peacekeeping business,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound crazy.

  “Yeah, the company manufactures weapons,” Sean noted. “Bows.” He coughed into his fist. “Arrows.” Watching this man stumble through explaining my work was somehow adorable.

  “Maybe I’m missing something, but how does manufacturing weapons contribute to keeping the peace?” Sara asked. I shifted her way, deciding that I really didn’t like this woman, and it had nothing to do with the fact she’d once dated Sean.

  “That’s a good question,” Sebastian spoke up as he eyed the bottle of whiskey. Ronan must’ve read his thoughts because he passed it down the table to his son-in-law. “The weapons are meant more as a deterrent.”

  Likely story. And we were botching this lie, weren’t we? “About this soda bread,” I began while pointing to the slice I now had on my plate, “where did you learn to make it?”

  “My mother,” Cara said with a smile, and she went on to explain the recipe.

  Sean nodded at me, his eyes saying, Nice save.

  “I was discussing with Emilia that we ladies might take a little holiday together soon,” Holly said a few minutes later. “What about we go on the sixth? Women’s Christmas Day?”

  “Women’s Christmas Day?” This was new to me.

  “January sixth is considered the last day of Christmas festivities,” Cara began, her face lighting up. “It represents the Epiphany, the day the three wise men visited the baby Jesus. It’s celebrated differently around the world and goes by a variety of names, but in Ireland, women take the day off to rest after all our hard work from the holidays.”