Page 89 of Clipped Wings

“This one’s to the bastard that had the balls to take the monster out.”

My gaze returned to Emma, whose face drained of color. I took a hesitant step in her direction, but Shannon leaned her head on Emma’s shoulder, and she regained her composure.

“And, last but not least, we drink to the war to come. Nicoletti is undoubtedly going to blame this on us. May our pints always be full and our guns always loaded!”

The crowd erupted and I lost sight of the trio. Eoghan had wrapped an arm over Emma’s shoulders right before my line of sight was cut off. Jealousy burned through my body like a wildfire, but I fought to control it. I wouldn’t be doing myself any favors if I acted irrationally.

“Now, drink like it’s your last day of peace!” my brother roared. “Because it fucking very well is.”

Kieran drained what little was left of his pint, then hopped from the island with easy grace. Eoghan approached him, his height allowing him to split the crowd. The mob dispersed as a song by Phantogram came on.

I set my water on the counter and circled the penthouse, looking for her. It was now or never. I had to factor Eoghan out of this situation. If I let jealousy get the best of me, she could very well run. Still, it was killing me not to know how those two had grown so close over the past few days.

“Come here often?”

I froze in place. She was standing directly behind me. That she’d been able to find me first was surprising. When I turned, she took my breath away yet again. In her oversized jeans and lingerie top, she was a dream. Luscious hair framed her delicate face. At her back, the picture window made her skin glow with an unearthly light. I coughed to clear the thickness in my throat.

“Not recently,” I said, catching on. “You?”

She smiled, happy that I was playing along. “Too much. I work at the restaurant downstairs, but the owner can be a dick.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t value your level of commitment as much as he should.”

She shrugged, sipping on her orange glass. “I like to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“Dove.” My chest expanded despite the air that left it. I was unstable on my own two feet. She was sweeping me off them. Wasn’t that my plan for her?

When her smile faltered, the fantasy disappeared. Our tiny bubble, our short exchange, faded and the presence of everyone else in the room came crashing down.

“I’ll see you around,” she said, brushing past me.

“Emma.” I caught her wrist before she could get too far. The smell of her was intoxicating—green apples and lavender, always. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” she answered, eyes open and honest.

“Let me walk you,” I commanded, but it sounded more like a plea. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her go so soon. Not after she had approached, breaking the tension.

Her voice was sweet and unexpectant. It killed me, the aloofness, like she didn’t care whether I accompanied her into the elevator. “Sure.”

She set her flute on the table in the foyer and didn’t so much as turn to see if I followed. The ride in the elevator—down sixty floors—was electric, but her expression didn’t betray anything. I studied her profile, recommitting everything to memory. The way her chin jutted up just so, like she knew I was watching. Her long eyelashes fluttered as she watched the lights on the control panel descend. She had crossed her hands in front of herself in a protective stance, the only thing giving me insight into her state of mind. The way her breasts were pushed up in that strapless top was distracting.

It was five o’clock and the heat was excessive, but I’d slipped out of my blazer before the party had started. We walked toward Central Park. Emma didn’t seem to mind the slow pace I’d set. The park was filled with people trying to find a way to beat the end-of-summer heat. Tourists enjoyed the beautiful day, snapping photos in front of vendors and statues. A few softball teams battled on the fields.

“You want ice cream?” I guessed, seeing Emma’s attention drift toward a small bodega.

Her eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses with rose-gold rims, so it was difficult to discern her emotions. “Okay.”

As we stood in line, I caught Emma smiling to herself. It brought a warmth to my heart, and I couldn’t help but reach out and touch her. The pad of my thumb tingled as I brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, trailing around the stitches on her head. My stomach clenched at the dark bruise beginning to form.

“If you want to go shooting again, let me take you.”

Color rose in her cheeks at my touch and she looked down, embarrassed. “Mick already offered, but I think I’m done with firearms for the foreseeable future.”

My lips thinned into a smile. “Good.”

I didn’t know why she had felt the sudden need to arm herself, but I was glad she’d changed her mind. Apparently getting pistol-whipped in the face was a deterrent. Eoghan was a fucking idiot.

“What’s going on between you and Eoghan?” I asked, reminded of my second lieutenant.

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