Page 22 of Irish

Makenzie: I understand. See you soon.

Makenzie felt a sense of apprehension as she drove back to Irish’s house. Would he be upset with her? Would things be awkward? Why couldn’t he have found the deceit himself? Shethought about the upcoming week. She had exactly one week left in Grand Ridge before she had to make some big decisions. Resigning from her previous job had been easy; she couldn’t return to the office where she’d see her ex-fiancé, Eugene every day. But there wasn’t a lot left for her on the East Coast. Sure, her parents lived there, but her last conversation with her mother left her hanging up and sobbing into her pillow. Ma was beyond disappointed in Makenzie for leaving Eugene at the altar. She scolded her up one side and down the other and told her it was her duty to call Eugene and talk with him. Her mother was hopeful that Makenzie would make up with him and resume the life she’d planned for Makenzie.

No, she couldn’t imagine returning home right now. Her own house, her once sanctuary, she’d sold and moved her belongings into storage. They’d planned on moving in together after the wedding. Her bank account was flush, she’d been saving up since her first babysitting job at thirteen. Investing was second nature to Makenzie; she was a financial genius. With well over six figures in her account, she wasn’t in a hurry to find a new job. With only a week left to Irish’s hospitality, she should start looking. He did say she could stay on and work for him… but now, after exposing both his son and ex-wife, would he feel the same?

Her cell phone vibrated from where she’d sat it in the drink holder. Picking it up, she glanced down at the text.

Unknown Caller: I know what you did. You’ll pay for this.

Makenzie: Who is this? What do you want?

She put the cell phone down when she heard the horn honking behind her. Looking in the rearview mirror, she saw Irish on his bike. She couldn’t see his full facial features through the mask but didn’t miss the narrowing of his eyes or the shaking of his head.

The heaviness that settled in her stomach wasn’t from the harassing text messages. No, it was from the look Irish was giving her. The very disappointed look. The Daddy look. The Little Girl you are in so much trouble, look.

She wasn’t his little girl though and he wasn’t her Daddy. Not yet anyway. Surely, she had nothing to fear. A sense of longing settled over her. She wanted to know how Irish would deal with her if she did belong to him. Would he be kind and understanding? A firm disciplinarian? A pushover? She giggled at the thought, no way was the giant on the motorcycle behind her a pushover.

As Makenzie pulled up to Irish's house, her heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. She couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that gnawed at her insides, wondering how Irish would react not only to what he witnessed on the road, but also to the morning's revelations of stolen money.

Stepping out of the car, she watched as Irish approached on his motorcycle, his expression still unreadable behind his helmet. She couldn't help but notice the way his eyes narrowed, and his head shook ever so slightly, a silent reprimand that sent a shiver down her spine. She suddenly felt like a very naughty little girl.

Ignoring the unsettling text message that had flashed across her phone moments earlier, Makenzie pushed the thoughts aside as she followed Irish inside. The familiar scent of his house enveloped her, a comforting embrace amid the turmoil swirling within her mind. Clover ran ahead of them, as she always did,and a second later her bark filled the room. She definitely loved chasing the animals in the backyard and making sure everyone knew she was home.

Irish led the way into the living room, his posture rigid as he turned to face her, he motioned for her to sit, and she settled into the softness of his couch. His gaze bore into hers, a silent challenge that made her pulse quicken with a mixture of fear and excitement.

“Mak,” he began, his voice low and commanding. “I owe you an apology for sending you away earlier. It wasn't fair of me to dismiss you like that. I was angry but not with you. I needed time to process the information.”

Makenzie's heart fluttered at his words, a surge of relief flooding through her. She hadn't realized how much his dismissal had hurt until he acknowledged it now.

“It's okay,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I understand.”

He nodded, his expression softening slightly. “Thank you for your understanding. There might be times when things get heated, and I need to walk away to calm down to keep from saying something I’ll regret or to process through my feelings. I will always come back. Sometimes, like today, it won’t be about you at all. I wasn’t mad with you. There’s a punching bag in the garage, but I don’t have one at work, I probably should install one. I will never strike you, or anyone else, out of anger. But I know myself and I know sometimes I need a moment to calm down. I should have taken the time to let you know I wasn’t mad before I sent you away; that was wrong of me.”

“It’s really okay. I texted Kylie and she met me at Night & Day. Trinity and Delilah were there. We had a nice talk.”

“You couldn’t ask for better women to talk to. I’ve known Kylie since before I moved here, we served on a mission together in Afghanistan. Trinity and Delilah are great, too. I’ve gotten toknow them through their boyfriends. I’m glad they were there for you. After you left and I calmed down, I called Darian.”

Makenzie listened as Irish recounted his conversation with his ex-wife, her heart aching for him as he spoke of her refusal to let him talk to their son, Wyatt, and get his side of the story. The injustice of it all made her blood boil, but she kept her emotions in check, offering him a sympathetic smile instead.

“I'm sorry, Irish,” she said softly. “I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

Irish nodded his thanks. “Thank you. She cheated on me and yet, you would think I was the one who broke up our family. She’s spent the last dozen years trying to alienate the kids from me. She wanted to move on, build a new family and have them forget me. I’ve fought countless court battles being able to stay in their lives. Now that they are teenagers, they get to decide how much time they talk to me. Wyatt and I spend more time talking than I do with Arianna. She has been more susceptible to Darian’s lies. Your support means more to me than you'll ever know.”

But just as the tension began to ease between them, Irish's expression hardened once more, his gaze flickering to where she’d set her phone on the coffee table.

“Now we need to discuss something else, Mak,” he said, his voice taking on a firm, dominant tone that sent a thrill of anticipation through her. “I noticed you texting while driving earlier. That's not acceptable behavior, especially when you're staying with me. Texting while driving is incredibly dangerous. Not only to yourself but others on the road.”

Makenzie's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, guilt churning in her stomach. She didn’t normally text and drive, but she wasn’t thinking clearly this afternoon.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t normally text and drive. It won't happen again.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Make sure it doesn’t. If you were mine, you wouldn't be sitting comfortably for the rest of the night.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with implication, and Makenzie's breath caught in her throat. It was a heady sensation, both terrifying and exhilarating, and she couldn't help but want to push.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you are a Little, Mak. I’ve seen the way you’ve responded to different stimuli. There is no denying the chemistry between us. I want you, but I won’t push. Nothing good comes from pressuring someone to do something they aren’t ready for. What is your experience with the lifestyle? Do you have any?”

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