Connection.
And I adored her down to my soul.
Burying Da brought up the memories of my childhood abuse, and my emotions were all over the place. I hated how everything felt so out of control, but Maeve made everything better. She’d never do me wrong; she’d never hurt me.
I knew I needed to talk to her about the reasons I agreed to our marriage, and it wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. She’d be angry and probably feel embarrassed, but I’d learned with Maeve that honesty was the best policy. There was nothing we couldn’t get through as long as we had the truth.
We were a team, and everything we’d achieved tonight proved we were a good one.
My eyes rested on my wife, who danced with Tristan and Cruise. I chuckled to myself because all the women around her were gyrating and being sexy while Maeve just bounced around, laughing uncontrollably and enjoying the craic.
I loved that she had no airs or graces. She was just herself and made no apologies for it. My wife probably had one of the brightest minds in the world, and she didn’t give a shite about it. Maeve just wanted to be close to the ones she loved and live a simple life full of family, laughter, and ginger-haired babies who weren’t eejits like their da.
A chuckle escaped my chest because it occurred to me that with my street smarts and Maeve’s book smarts, our wee ones would probably take over the goddamned world.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice Shannon sidle up to lean against the wall beside me. It was only when she laid a hand on my chest that my head whipped around to see her standing in her barely there dress with her bright red lips tipped up.
“Hey, lover,” she drawled.
Immediately, her words reminded me of Saskia, and something dark crawled through my gut.
Shaking her hand off, I cocked a foot up flat to the wall and folded my arms across my chest, muttering, “Wassup?”
She nodded toward Maeve, who was being twirled between Tris and Cruise like a fucking ballerina in a music box. “A keratin treatment, a bit of mascara, and a new dress doesn’t make her Scarlett Johansson. She’s still the boring, plain nerd who only talks about history and books and who can’t walk down the street without making an eejit of herself.”
My laugh came from deep inside my chest, and Shannon looked at me triumphantly, no doubt assuming I agreed with her. The sad fact was, a few months before, she probably would’ve been right, so I couldn’t blame her for thinking I was as big an asshole as she was.
Except now, everything had changed, including me.
Especially me.
“I’ll start this ridiculous conversation by saying I really don’t want this ridiculous conversation, Shannon. It’s weird and inappropriate, and I’m honestly not the kinda man who likes laying it all out for a woman. However, your actions have proven you need a little come-to-Jesus moment, so hallelujah, praise the Lord, and call me Jesus ‘cause I’m about to give it to ya.” I nodded toward my wife, who was currently bent double, belly-laughing with Tristan. “See that woman? She’s got more beauty in her cunt hair than you’ve got in your entire body. My Maeve is everything you’re not. Gorgeous, sweet, and kind. The only person she puts last is her fuckin’ self, and hand to God, if you approach me again, thinking you can talk shit about the woman I love, I’ll put your bony ass out myself. Get it?”
During my speech, Shannon’s eyes grew wider. Then I watched as my words hit their target, and her face blanked.
“I see Little Miss Perfect has gotten to you too?” she clipped out.
“If by getting to me means, have I fallen in love with my wife? Then the answer is most definitely yes.”
“You’ve fallen in love with your wife?” she asked, as if she needed to double-check.
My mouth hitched. “Yep.”
“The same wife you were made to marry, or else you’d lose your bar? The same wife for whom my dad paid you fifty grand for? That wife?” She let out a brittle laugh. “Aren’t you a fucking peach, though maybe even I could love Maeve for fifty thousand bucks.”
My body froze, all except the smile that died on my face. The dark feeling Shannon’s presence had instilled inside my gut intensified, and suddenly, I felt sick as a dog. “How do you know?”
“I watch and listen,” she retorted. “I knew the wedding was weird; it was so fucking obvious to everybody except Maeve. For someone so smart she really hasn’t got an ounce of common sense to speak of. It’s sad really. I thought you and I were cut from the same cloth, Callum, but no, you’re as gullible as all the other men in my family, falling for Maeve’s sweet girl act. I thought better of you.”
“I never thought better of you,” I bit back. “Always knew you were a jealous, insecure little girl with daddy issues.”
“There’s nobody with bigger daddy issues than you.” She laughed bitterly, but I knew I’d hit a nerve by the petulant downturn of her mouth.
I was aware of the difficulties I had with my childhood and the feelings Da’s death evoked. The difference was, I was working through my shit, whereas Shannon hadn’t scratched the surface of hers.
Slowly, I shook my head at her while wondering how a human being could be so vile. “So, I guess you’re gonna tell Maeve everything.”
“Well,” she purred, raising a hand to straighten my collar. “I guess that depends.”