Page 18 of Irish

“If you are going to finish your milkshake, you need to eat a few bites of your vegetables,” he said a bit more firmly. He laughed when she shook her head again. Stubborn. A bit bratty. He liked it. “Am I going to have to take your milkshake away?”

Her eyes grew wide, and she reached for her milkshake, moving it behind her and further from his reach. “Nope. My milkshake. No takesies back.”

He wasn’t expecting the small, higher pitched voice to come from her, and based on her expression, she wasn’t either. “Don’t think I won’t get up and take your milkshake to the kitchen and wash it down the sink. Naughty girls who don’t eat their vegetables don’t get to finish their milkshakes,” he pressed.

She gave a large dramatic sigh and inside, Irish cheered. There was absolutely no denying it now. “Be a good girl and open up.” He watched her eyes narrow and saw the yearning in them, before relenting, opening her mouth to the fork.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised again. Irish watched her closely, noting the way she complied with his request. The little sigh she gave after swallowing before she opened quickly for a second bite was a subtle but telling sign, another clue toward her preferences in the lifestyle they both longed for.

Yeah, she had Little written all over her. His next mission was to get her to trust him enough to admit it to him. One thing was for damn sure, he’d do anything to protect Makenzie and provide the safety and security she needed to let her walls down and let him in.

CHAPTER 7

MAKENZIE

The last week had seen like something out of a dream. Makenzie knew Irish thought she was a Little, but she wasn’t ready to explore that side of her again… She might never be. She loved the way he was taking care of her, earning her trust, but so had the man she’d last called Daddy. He’d done all the right things until he didn’t. Besides working at the office with him, she’d spent time at The Watchmen Clubhouse getting to know Kylie more. The other woman had become a friend, almost like having an older sister. She invited Kylie to meet some of the other women in town and Kylie was looking forward to it. For now, she reached for her Diet Dr Pepper and took a long drink. She was alone at the shop on Main Street, while Irish ran an errand out to the storage unit. He and a few of the men were inventorying supplies for their next adventure camp.

Makenzie's fingers hesitated over the keyboard, her eyes darting back and forth across the glowing screen. Numbers should line up, but these didn't. They sums were mismatched, refusing to make sense. She scrolled through the financial records of Irish's nonprofit adventure camp, and with each click, a pulse of suspicion shot through her veins. Something was off.The profits from their charity ride last summer, the bake sale earnings, the anonymous donations—they all seemed to blur into a messy trail of inconsistencies. She’d added and subtracted all morning and kept coming up with the same number.

Twenty thousand dollars.

There was twenty thousand dollars missing from his account. Exactly. Not a penny more or a penny less. Someone had moved the money around, taking hundreds from here, hundreds from there. She wasn’t expecting Irish’s camp to have millions of dollars, but with some incredibly generous donations, they’d managed to raise seven figures. It wasn’t like the money didn’t go back directly into serving the community. The donations were going where they were supposed to, but the account was short what it should be. Talking with Irish, she’d discovered he hadn’t ever truly known how much money he had. His teenage son had stayed with him over Christmas break, and he had allowed him to do some of the accounting. He was in an Advanced Placement finance class and Irish encouraged him to get involved with his company. Realizing the money disappeared in December, Makenzie’s heart dropped into her stomach.

“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, frustration knotting her brow. Her phone lay beside the computer, and she snatched it up, thumb hovering over the contact list. She should call Irish and tell him, but she wanted a second set of eyes on it first. If she was going to lodge suspicion at his son, she needed to be sure. Scrolling through the phone, she found Arrow’s number. Just yesterday, Irish had programmed it into her phone.

In case of an emergency, if you can’t get a hold of me, call Lucky. If Lucky isn’t available, I’ve programmed all the other officers in. Savage, Rampage, Arrow, Slash, and Mad Dog. You already have Kylie’s number. One of them will answer.

She’d met them all at the clubhouse. Each had a unique personality, but they were all trustworthy and kind to her. She’d hit it off with Arrow right away. A fellow accountant, she understood his mathematical mind and logistical way of looking at things.

“Hey, Arrow, it's Kenzie,” she spoke into the phone when the line connected. “I've got a situation here.”

“Talk to me,” came the calm reply, as if he could sense the urgency in her voice.

“It's about the camp's finances. There are discrepancies...gaps where there shouldn't be any.”

“Discrepancies?” Arrow's tone sharpened. “How bad?”

“I’d rather not give you an amount, until you look it over. I want to make sure we see the same thing. There's definitely something wrong. I could use a second set of eyes on it.”

“Send me the files,” he instructed, the command clear in his voice. “We'll figure this out.”

“Sending now,” Makenzie confirmed, her fingers already flying across the keys.

“Got them,” Arrow said after a brief pause. “Give me some time to look these over. I’ll call you back.”

“Thanks,” she breathed out, a mix of relief and trepidation swirling within her. She’d never gotten it wrong before, but there was a first time for anything. She hoped that’s what this was, an error on her end, although, her gut told her otherwise. “I owe you one.”

“Nah. It wouldn’t be right for Irish’s girl to owe me anything,” Arrow replied, a hint of a smile in his voice. “It’s what we do.”

The call ended before Makenzie could correct him. She wasn’t Irish’s girl. She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest, gaze fixed on the maze of numbers that mocked her from the screen.

An hour later, Makenzie's fingers curled around the ceramic mug, the heat bleeding through to her palms, a stark contrast to the chill of apprehension that had settled in her bones. The earthy scent of ground coffee mingled with the buttery allure of pastries from behind the counter at Day & Night, but she barely noticed. Her focus was on Arrow, who sat across from her in the bustling coffee shop.

“Looks like you were right,” Arrow said, his voice low, eyes locked onto the laptop screen between them. “The numbers don't add up.”

She nodded, her gaze flitting over the spreadsheet of numbers lined up like soldiers in columns and rows. “How much did you find missing?”

“Twenty grand.” Arrow said. “Not small change.”

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