Page 24 of Smooth As Whiskey

I just wanted to be the only woman with him.

So what could I do?

I knew a little bit about Irish’s past, but any time I’d pushed him on the subject, he had closed down on me.

And if reliving those memories would be hard for him, then I didn’t need to know.

I didn’t want him to hurt.

God, I was such a sucker for that man.

There he was, hurting me left and fucking right.

And here I was worrying about hurting him?

I needed to have my head examined, or at the very least, I needed to have someone operate and have my heart replaced with that of an uncaring and unfeeling bitch.

Perhaps switch mine with Cynnamin’s.

Yeah, that would definitely work.

I still hadn’t seen nor talked to Irish.

It’s been four days since that night.

I know he left to go do something for the club.

I shook my head, enough of this shit.

I had a jam-packed day with clients, and I needed to finish getting ready.

I was excited for today.

I was going to be giving Paisley’s mom a well-deserved makeover.

Just then, my phone rang, and when I saw it was Asher, I frowned.

I answered it just as I slipped my feet into my shoes, “Hello?”

“Sutton, I know you're pissed at Irish, but he needs you, honey.”

I froze, “What’s going on?”

“Come down to the front gate,” And with that, Asher hung up.

I frowned down at my phone as I lowered it from my ear.

I hurried through getting ready and then grabbed my bags, and headed out of my room, down the hall, and to the front door.

Once I opened it, my eyes scanned the courtyard.

And then my breath caught in my lungs.

There was a little girl in a pink flowery dress that I had seen in my dreams.

The hair.

The eyes.

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