by Holly Hart
I finally breathe a heavy sigh of relief as the door locks behind me.
“Feeling better?” Sofia asks with light dancing in her eyes. I don’t know how she’s so calm about everything that happened to her today. The second I knew that she was taken, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. I’ve been drowning in a torrent of adrenaline for hours. Now it’s left my system, I feel like a junkie, pining for more.
I grab her hand and pull her into me. We kiss once again. I could happily spend the rest of my life doing this. Through it all, one last unanswered question dances in my mind: is this just a last hurrah, or does Sofia want to spend the rest of her life with me? I know what my answer would be to that question. I want to raise my – our – child with her, not every other weekend. No matter what I said.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Sofia whispers, her voice breathy as she breaks the kiss. The emptiness on my lips startles me back to the here and now. “Because this is all kinds of romantic…” Her eyebrow jumps with irony. “But you taste like blood, and I feel terrible…”
I clear my throat. “Sure,” I mutter. That kiss seems to have knocked all the sense out of me. My mind is racing, but it’s not getting anywhere – either fast, or slow. “I’ll grab yer towel.”
I turn, but Sofia tugs me back. She doesn’t let go of my hand. Her grip is surprisingly strong.
“And where,” she whispers with a twinkle in her eyes, “do you think you’re going?”
“To –”
Sofia shakes her head, cutting me off before I have a chance to stammer a reply. “I can answer that one for you. You’re coming with me…”
Sofia runs water in the tub. The bathroom fills with a thick blanket of steam that mists the mirrors until it feels like we’re in our own private winter wonderland. She doesn’t even let go of my hand when she undresses, she just switches hands. We do an awkward dance as she pulls off first her clothes, then mine, never breaking skin contact. Sofia’s skin is marked with bruises from her first tangle with her brother, and dozens more from her ruthless kidnapping.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she orders, eyes flashing with fire. I shake my head, impressed. This girl will make a Byrne, alright. Hell, she pulls it off better than I do… “I don’t want your pity,” Sofia murmurs. “I want you to look at me like I’m sexy, not damaged.”
I recognize that for what it is: my cue to say something. For a man who has made a habit of putting my foot in my mouth over the years, I think I pull this one off pretty well. “Trust me, Sofia. Ye are the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes upon. I could never see ye naked again fer the rest of me life and I’d die a happy man, ‘cos I’d seen ye once…”
Sofia blushes. “Oh, stop,” she whispers, but with a charmed glint in her eyes that tell me she wants me to carry on.
I stroke her cheek. “Yer the strongest, bravest, most gorgeous gal I’ve ever met. I could meet ten thousand more, and none would ever come close to ye; how’s that?”
Sofia doesn’t reply, not with her mouth. Her eyes tell a different story. They’re wide and rich, and brown, and a hundred feet deep. She takes my hand and pulls me towards her. I pass her, completely naked, and step into the tub. I hiss with pain.
“Jaysus, gal,” I groan. “If yer brother couldn’t kill me, ye just might.” I freeze. That whole thing with me putting my foot in things; I think I just might have done it again. I glance at Sofia, eyes wide with apology. She shakes her head, a sad smile on her lips.
“Mickey made his bed,” she says. “I can choose to remember the good parts of him. But I’ll never forget the man he became.”
I nod. Sofia just put it better than I ever could. She’s one special lady, that’s for sure; and tough as nails. I pull her into the bathtub. Her eyes gleam in the low light, and I can’t tell whether it’s because of the stinging pain of the hot water, or her brother’s memory. I don’t comment on it.
We sink down into the heated water. It stings every cut and bruise like acid, forcing its way into places I didn’t know could hurt. Sofia is in front of me, between my legs, leaning back. My eyes rove her body like it’s a race track, but my own body doesn’t react like it normally does.
“Crap, that hurts,” I mutter, trying to take my mind off of it.
Sofia’s tinkling laugh fills the steamy bathroom. “Call it my revenge…”
Right now, this is what I need. Just a few moments of calm, with Sofia’s skin touching mine. It’s a moment I worried that I would never be able to have again. I wash Sofia’s hair gently, cupping water in my hands and slowly pouring it across her rich russet brown locks. They grow darker and darker the wetter they get, until their red glow is barely noticeable. But I don’t need to see it to know it’s there. I know every inch of Sofia’s body by now – sometimes better than I know my own.
The bathroom fills with quiet calm, punctuated only by the sound of droplets of water splashing into the tub as I rinse Sofia’s hair. After a while longer, even that sound disappears. Our bodies melt into each other, slipping into a harmony of exhausted muscles and soft, steady breathing.
Sofia sits up. The sound of the water cascading off her shoulders might as well be an explosion in the quiet. She turns to face me. “Time to swap,” she grins. “I’m going to do something about that face.”
I reach up to my battered, split skin. Even touching it hurts. “No way,” I grunt. “I’m fine just the way it is.”
Sofia raises her eyebrow, treating me like an errant schoolboy. “Yes way, Mr. Byrne. Because I want two more things tonight: a nice long sleep, and to feel you inside me – preferably not in that order. But neither of those are going to happen with you looking like a monster from my worst nightmare…”
My cock twitches. In the heat of the water, I’d almost forgotten it was there. But the sight of Sofia’s twisted torso, and the faintest glimpse of one of her perky tits, is enough to reawaken my arousal.
“Well,” I groan, still not completely sold on the idea, “I guess when ye put it like that…”
“I do,” Sofia grins.
We trade places, and now I lie back between Sofia’s legs. My back rests on her stomach, and I sink low into the water. Sofia reaches up and grabs a white hand towel from the heated rack. She wets it, and pulls her face into a grimace as she looks at me.
“This is going to hurt.”
I just grunt. I figured that much out on my own.
I hiss with pain as Sofia cleans the wounds on my face. She starts with my split lip, teasing out the fragments of dirt and grit that lodged in the cut. Any arousal that had begun to build when I saw Sofia’s naked body disappears in a sea of pain.
“Careful!”
“I’m being careful,” Sofia mutters, chewing her lip with one eye closed as she concentrates. “Don’t be such a baby.”
I shut my eyes and try to block out the pain. Sofia wets the towel and wrings it out half a dozen times. Each time the room fills with the pattering of water.
“There we go,” she whispers, setting the towel aside and leaning down to kiss my forehead. “All better.”
I can’t explain the feeling that has been building inside me, but I could stay like this – in Sofia’s arms – forever. I never thought that I was the kind of guy who would just settle for one woman. I’m still not. The truth is, I’m not settling for Sofia; I’m lucky to have her. I’m the luckiest man alive.
I’m trying to figure out a way to tell her that without sounding sappy as hell, when something changes.
I feel Sofia move, leaning forward, pressing her tits against my back. Her wet hair tickles my face. Water droplets collide with the surface of the water in a symphony. And Sofia’s fingers close around my cock.
My eyes spring open. I nod – maybe even a couple of times too many. “All better,” I say, repeating Sofia’s words.
My arousal grows in Sofia’s hands. In seconds, I’m at my full-length, and I can’t resist waiting any longer. I’ve got hours of pent-up worry and stress flowing
through my veins, and they – I – need release.
I spin in the water, and Sofia leans back, a satisfied smile on her face. “I thought you might like that,” she crows.
I don’t reply. I can’t reply. My mouth can’t form the words, and besides, I’m not going to waste the energy trying. I need to feel Sofia on my cock now. I can’t wait to carry her to the bed. She parts her legs as wide she can in the bathtub, as if she read my mind.
“I guess we don’t need a condom,” she says straight-faced. Then she winks, and both of us crack a grin. I guess we can laugh about it now.
But I’ll laugh later.
I press my cock into Sofia’s pussy. I watch with delight as the girl I thought I had lost bites her lip with pleasure. Her hands circle my shoulders, fingernails biting into my skin. I savor the pain.
“Don’t go slow,” Sofia whimpers through her pleasure as I begin to thrust in and out of her. Her eyelids spring open, and those deep brown eyes search for mine. “I’m not damaged.” She growls.
I shake my head, chuckling. I only just manage to fight off the inescapable, swelling need between my legs long enough to lean in towards Sofia’s neck. I tickle it with my lips, nibbling at her skin. I stop thrusting for just a second; just long enough to whisper into my girl’s ear.
“I love ye, Sofia Morello.”
I thrust into her the second I say the word love. Our hips meet, kiss each other, and Sofia’s eyes widen. For once, she’s at a loss for words. Before she has a chance to say a single one, I cover her mouth with mine.
I have no idea whether Sofia would say the same thing back to me. Right now, I don’t care to find out. If she does, she’ll tell me. Either way, I’ve never been happier. But I don’t have to wait long to find out.
“I love you, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sofia
Two weeks later
Kieran presses his palm against my stomach. His eyes don’t deviate from the road, but I watch as the corners of his lips kick up into a smile. He’s been smiling non-stop for weeks, like a love-sick schoolgirl. It’s crazy to think that it’s been what – two months since all this started – less? And yet, I feel like I’ve known Kieran for years. I guess that’s what adversity does; it shows you the people you really need in your life. With the rest of my family gone, Kieran has more than filled the hole in my heart.
“I think I felt him kick!” Kieran yelps, for what seems like the thousandth time. And – for the thousandth time – I can’t help but grin back at Kieran’s enthusiasm.
“Kieran,” I growl, pursing my lips, “It’s been six weeks. I’m not even showing yet. Besides, mister,” I remonstrate, linking my fingers between his on my stomach, “since when is our baby a he? Unless you went and got a scan without me, you have no idea. Our child could be anything: boy; girl; alien…”
Kieran looks at me side-eyed. “Ah, gal, ye know I’ll love it the same as ever. It doesn’t matter what comes out of ye, long as I’m a dad, I can die happy.”
I dig my fingernails into Kieran’s thumb and squeeze. “First things first,” I order. “I forbid you to die. I’m just settling into your place, and I am so not interested in figuring out who gets to keep your collection of ‘prize’ baseballs, thank you very much.”
“Hey!” Kieran growls, pulling his thumb back and guiding his SUV down a small, neat street in South Boston. “They are collectibles…”
I wrinkle my eyebrows. “Some collection,” I mutter as I look out of the window, staring at the neatly maintained, small family houses on either side of the road.
Still, I can’t help but smile. I love this inane back and forth Kieran and I have. I’ve wanted something like it for as long as I can remember; even if I didn’t know it. We could be reading the phone book to each other, and I would be happy. I didn’t realize that I was missing this kind of joy in my life until I found it. When Kieran told me he loved me, it was like I was suddenly seeing in color. Of course, I’d never tell him that.
“Nearly there,” Kieran grunts, manhandling the steering wheel. “Are we telling everybody?”
I tear my eyes away from the view. Every time my eyes pass another carefully maintained lawn, another house with fairy lights strung in the windows, my heart aches. I’ve gone from being the Ice Queen to a family woman in a matter of weeks.
And I don’t regret a second of it.
“Telling everybody what?” I ask, forehead wrinkling.
Kieran glances at me, and I notice that the SUV is moving slower. He looks down, meaningfully. “Ye know, about the baby …”
I shake my head. “Two things, Kieran: number one – when you’re bringing your girlfriend –.”
“Fiancé,” Kieran growls with a wicked grin, interrupting me.
I flush. “Okay, fiancé. When you’re bringing your fiancé of six weeks to meet her future mother-in-law, you do not tell that future mother-in-law that she’s going to be a grandmother. Got it?”
It’s Kieran’s turn to frown. “Well, Declan did it …” He grunts.
“Hold it right there, mister,” I grin. “I’m adding a rule number three. It comes right before rule number two. No comparing our relationship to your twin’s. Understood?”
Kieran nods. I can tell he wants to say something, but I won’t let him. Sometimes you’ve got to lay some ground rules, and this seems like as good a time as any.
“Rule number two,” I say, cutting across Kieran before he has a chance to open his mouth. “You don’t talk about the baby until the second trimester.”
“Tri– what?” Kieran repeats, looking baffled.
“The first three months. It’s too early. Anything can happen.”
Kieran’s face goes white. I feel like a mother telling their child that Santa Claus doesn’t exist. I hold my finger up to head off his complaint, because I just know he’s going to complain. “I’m not saying anything is going to happen,just that we shouldn’t tell anyone. It’s only a few more weeks, okay?”
Surprisingly, Kieran takes it well. “You’re the boss.” He pilots the car up into the driveway of a neatly maintained home. It looks like any other in the area, only newly painted, and clean as a whistle. I’d bet it always looks like this. Kieran kills the engine and gestures around. “Welcome to me childhood,” he smiles.
I guess all the blood must have drained out of my face this time. Kieran reaches over and grabs my hand. He swallows it in his. “What’s wrong, doll?” He asks, with a broad smile on his face. “Yer not nervous, are ye?”
I shake my head violently from side to side. But my expression pretty quickly shows that is a lie. The truth is I’m a bag of nerves. I thought I’d be okay, but I’m not just meeting Kieran’s family for the first time; I’m meeting my family’s historic enemies for the first time! That’s a whole different kettle of fish.
“What,” Kieran chuckles, “ye mean the gal they call the Ice Queen, the same redheaded beauty who runs rings around the good detective, that girl is worried about me ol’ ma?”
I nod. My voice sounds small when I speak. “Don’t laugh at me,” I mutter. “I’m not used to this lovey-dovey stuff, and don’t act as if you are any better at it than me.”
Kieran ruffles my hair. I shoot daggers at him and smooth it back, but deep down, I liked it. I love it when he touches me, wherever he touches me. It makes me feel loved, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
“It’ll be fine, doll. Come on,” he says, winking at me. His voice gets quieter as he steps out of the SUV. “They don’t bite.”
I open my door and follow, my stomach growling. I wish I could be so sure. Kieran is right: I don’t really understand why I’m happy to stare down a man with a gun, but a simple family lunch scares the living heck out of me.
I stop at the top of the porch, waiting for Kieran to ring the bell, but he just turns the door handle. He grins at me before stepping inside. “What, ye think someone’s going to burgle this house? They’ll be gettin’ a real nasty shock
if they do…”
I guess not.
I catalog the differences between Kieran’s and my family’s houses. The Byrne place is small, compact and understated; it looks just like any other working-class house on the street. I think about my family’s – mine, now – house. Hell, I can’t call it that with a straight face. It’s a mansion, plain and simple.
I tug on Kieran’s arm. “Is this –?” I stutter, trying to find a way of phrasing my question that won’t sound like I’m putting down the place he grew up in. I’m really not; the truth is, I love this house already. The old wooden floorboards are polished by decades of foot traffic. It feels like a home, not a castle. I’m kind of jealous.
“It?” Kieran chuckles. He inclines his head and performs a mock bow. “Tis’ indeed, me lady,” he grins, deliberately thickening his accent. I elbow him in the ribs, pouting, and he straightens up pretty quickly. “I guess yer wanting to know what we do with all the money…”
“Don’t say it like that,” I mutter, making sure that I’m speaking low enough that no one else in his family might overhear. “I don’t want people thinking I’m a gold digger.”
Kieran laughs out loud. He slaps me on the back so hard I almost double over. The picture of guilt on his face is so hilarious when he grabs me to stop me falling over, I’m not even mad. “That’s unlikely, don’t ye think? Nah, we never did have much use for cash. Da’ always wanted us to be a family outfit, so that’s what we are. We see right by our people, and they look after us.”
I press my lips against Kieran’s. I’ve only been with this man six weeks, and every day he finds a new way to surprise me. I never realized that he would be so honest about helping other people. I like this side of him. I can’t wait to have a baby with him.
“Ma’!” Kieran bellows. “Ye got guests!”
Kieran pushes open the kitchen door, and confidently strides through. I follow behind, a touch less boisterously. An old woman in a maroon apron, speckled with flour, kisses Kieran on both cheeks. I guess it must be his mom, or his ma, as he calls her.
