Page 101 of Dublin Brute

Brendan drops onto the couch across from me, crystal tumbler in hand. “That day at the café, you lit up talking about your art. During the time we’ve been apart, I’ve come back to that moment a hundred times in my mind, and I always want to see that spark again.”

“It’s been so long…”

“You can find your muse again, angel. I know you can.”

He takes a sip of scotch, the amber liquid swirling in the glass, the prisms of cut crystal catching the light. His pose is natural yet striking—one arm draped along the back of the couch, legs spread slightly, head tilted just so.

The light of the champagne sunset streams through the window wall, casting shadows that emphasize every plane and angle of his body.

My hand itches for the charcoal. “Don’t move.”

A knowing smirk plays at his lips as I settle into the club chair opposite him. The first stroke across the page is tentative, but then muscle memory takes over. My hand moves with growing confidence as Brendan’s form begins to emerge on the paper.

It’s been months since I’ve drawn anything, but the familiar rush floods back—that electric thrill of creating something from nothing.

The charcoal feels right between my fingers, leaving bold dark lines that capture his casual elegance, the way he owns the space around him without even trying. God, he makes the perfect subject, all clean lines and dangerous grace.

Pushing all thought to the back of my mind, I open myself up and let creativity take me away.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Brendan

Ican’t take my eyes off Nora as she sits across from me at the kitchen table, pizza slice halfway to her mouth. The way her eyes light up when she laughs, the possessive pride I feel with her wearing my T-shirt—it’s like every dream I never knew I had come true.

“And you’re sure Tag doesn’t mind us hiding out here, playing house?” She glances around the industrial-modern space.

I grab another slice. “Not at all. He understands that sometimes you need to withdraw from the realities of the world. This was his hiding place for months after Da died.”

Something tightens in Nora’s expression as she swallows. “And they were close?”

“We all were. Da was our leader, but he was also our biggest supporter and best friend. He was exactly what a father should be.”

Her expression dims more, and I curse myself for not thinking about my words before speaking. “I’m sorry,mo chroi.That was thoughtless. It guts me that your father wasn’t what you needed him to be.”

She pats my hand and then takes a sip of her wine. “It’s fine. My father raised me with the best of intentions and to the best of his abilities.”

That sounds very clinical and cold.

“And I’m glad you and your brothers had a loving father.”

“Aye, me too, but it shattered our world to lose him like we did, with no warning. Of course, in our business, there’s always a chance we can lose someone we love. I think that’s why we love one another so deeply. Leave nothing unsaid, you know?”

Nora sets down her pizza, her eyes growing glassy. “Brendan, there’s something I need to tell you.”

The serious tone in her voice makes me pause. “What is it, angel?”

She wrings her hands in her lap. “First, I have to apologize. Maybe I should’ve told you right away, but I’ve been so torn about not betraying either you or my father, and I couldn’t see a way to do right by you both.”

I slide my plate to the side and reach across the table to hold her hand. “Nora, I won’t ever hold that against you. Loving me has put you in an impossible position—I understand that more than anyone.”

She swallows as a fat tear rolls down her cheek. “A couple of days ago—after you came to see me in the VIP suite at Legend—I had a fight with my father. It was a big one. It was also the first time I stood up for myself and wouldn’t let him tear me down.”

“Good girl. I’m proud of you.”

“Don’t be. I haven’t finished.”

I don’t like the sound of this, but force a neutral expression and wait for her to continue.

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