Page 55 of Bargain with the Irish Devil

Miranda

Something is wrong. I’ve known it since he left. Everything felt off. I tried to go to sleep, but all I could do was clutch his pillow tight and wonder if he was all right.

I heard the front door and was, at first, relieved. Only for time to pass while I wondered if it was someone else and it meant something bad happened to Declan. When he came through the door, I sagged in relief that he was fine. But he’s not fine. Something is wrong.

And he’s going to keep it from me.

Do I want to know? No. Not really. All I want is for him not to look as though he walked out of hell.

Blue disappears. “I should let you go. If I were a better man, I would. But I’m not. I swear months, years at times, will go by with nothing more violent than a beating for money owed. I haven’t pulled my gun in more than two years. No one has dared pull one on me in more than five years. It’s not usually this shit-soaked, but this night was...”

My chest twists. I stroke his cheek. He leans into my touch. “I’m here. However, you need me. I don’t want you to let me go. Here with you is where I want to be.”

His hands slide around me hugging me to him. “I want your body something awful, but tonight. I just need to hold you.”

I hug him tight. So large and strong. He sighs into my hair. His towel is gone, and we’re in bed together, his arms around me.

Pressing my head into hischest,he strokes my hair.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “No, love. Talk to me. Tell me what your favorite memory is of growing up.”

“When my mom would allow who she was to come through. It was rare. She grew up with her parents as migrant farmers from Mexico. And she hated it. At fourteen she ran away because they wanted her to quit school and go into the fields and take care of her little brothers and sisters. She wanted a different life. So she stole money and bought a ticket out of California for as far as the money would go. It stopped in Chicago.”

“I wondered where you got your fire and determination from.” He murmurs.

“Hm, I tried. It was just sad she never talked about her family. She refused to even tell us her real name. Thank goodness there weresome police roaming around the bus station. They knew immediately she was too young to be on her own. CPS took her in and because she stuck to her story and they could find no one to call her a liar they ended up keeping her. At her age, she was placed in a group home. She hated it, but it was a roof over her head. After some testing, they stuck her in high school. there’s no way she was born Ashley Smith.” I sigh.

“She was trying to hide. Ashley was one of those top baby names for a while.” Comes out of the dark.

“Yeah, she kind of admitted it. Every once in a while, she’d turn the radio on, and she’d cook Mexican food. She showed me how to make tortillas, rice, and salsa. Then, my dad would come home. She would act as if she didn’t know where the food came from. For a few days, she would be almost depressed. The next time, she would go longer before doing it again. It went from a few weeks to a few months until right before she died. One weekend, we spent the day in the kitchen, and she showed me how to make all these dishes. I asked her why, and she said it was for when she wasn’t around to show me. We froze a lot of it. A weeklater,she died. My dad never ate the last dozen of tamales she made he loved so much before he died.”

His sigh is loud. “You also got your love of hiding from her, too.”

I nod. “If I ignore it, it will go away. It was safer. Who the hell wants pain? I just never realized without the pain, there’s no pleasure. There’s no light without dark. Is one better than the other? Sometimes. Sometimes, the light burns, and it’s safer in the dark. But other times, you can’t see what you’re missing in the dark.”

“That’s my girl.” He whispers against the top of my head before pressing a kiss to it.

Closing my eyes, I float on the gentle wave. Whatever comes tomorrow, I’m going to step into the sun and hope it doesn’t burn me.

CHAPTER 17

Declan

I wake from the best dream I’ve ever had. Only to find it’s no dream. Miranda is in my arms, her soft, sexy body pressed up against me. She’s wrapped around me with her face buried in my chest.

She wanted to stay—she wanted me. Blood on my hands and soul black from sin. Thank god.

A glance at the clock on the bedside table tells me it's a little after eight in the morning. There is so much I need to get up and do. Most important is the long overdue conversation with James. I’m also sure a phone call from the old men is waiting for me. Not to mention a check-up on the girls to ensure no one wants to leave and, if they understandably did, how to help them find a new place. So many things.

In all the years I've run this, I’ve never resented the responsibilities I took onand the things I had to do. It was a job that needed to be done. And I did it well.

Right now, I don't give a shit about any of it. All I want to do is stay here with Miranda in my arms. I want to make love to her all damn day until there was no doubt she’s pregnant with our first of many children. Except I swear I can hear shit building against that desire.

I’m not wrong, two minutes later my phone is ringing. It’s Ronald’s ring tone. A curse comes out of me unchecked.

Miranda stiffens, and her eyes are wide with fear. I hate that.

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