Page 92 of Taming Irish

Chapter 27

Makena

“You haveto have the worst pain tolerance of anyone I know,” Quinn quips when I groan, trying to peel myself off thecouch.

She’s been here for a month now. Shane had her and my mom flown here after the incident. My mom, thankfully, went home after I was discharged from the hospital. Quinn, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to have any intention ofleaving.

“If you don’t like my complaining, you can always gohome.”

She pouts at me from across the room. “Not until I know you’re going to beokay.”

“I’m fine.Honestly.”

“Well, someone needs to make sure you follow the doctor’s orders and rest. Which means no sex with that hot Irish god ofyours.”

“I thought my ears were itching,” Shane says, chuckling as he comes through frontdoor.

Like every time I see him, my chest constricts slightly and butterflies dance in mystomach.

“Hi,” I say, and he wraps an arm around me, gently pulling me againsthim.

“Hi.” His lips brush mine lightly, in a kiss that’s intimate and still makes my knees feel like mush underme.

“Um, still here, guys,” Quinnsays.

Shane chuckles against my lips, and whispers, “When is she goinghome?”

“I heard that,” she mutters, making us bothlaugh.

“Are ye up for a small walk?” He brushes my hair away from my cheek with his knuckles, a hint of mischief sparking in hiseyes.

“As long as Dr. Quinn says it’s all right,” I tease, glancing over at mycousin.

“Just don’t strain yourself.” She points a finger at Shane. “You know what Imean.”

“Ye know, I can have a plane on standby whenever ye’d like,” he says, flashing her one of his grins, even though I know he’s only halfjoking.

When we’re outside, away from Quinn’s prying eyes, he kisses me harder, though I can feel himself holdingback.

“Come on,” he says, opening the passenger door of his Ferrari forme.

“I thought we were going for awalk.”

“We will. We just need to drive somewherefirst.”

I let him help me into the car, indulging him by letting him buckle my seatbelt for me, even though I’m more than capable of doingit.

For the first two weeks after I woke up in intensive care, Shane hasn’t been far from my side. I was extremely lucky that the bullet didn’t hit any major organs, and my recovery time has been quick, despite the way both him and Quinn, and even Agnus and Emer, dote onme.

There was a lot of media attention afterwards, despite how hard Shane and the others tried to keep it muted. But, when the lead singer of the world’s most beloved rock band’s baby is almost abducted from the hospital, there is bound to be press. Thankfully, this time, they painted me in a betterlight.

While a few of the articles wrote me into the story as the victim of a crazed star-struck stalker, most hailed me as a hero. I’d shaken my head when I’d heard that, because I’d only done what anyone else wouldhave.

The woman, Emily, had been taken to jail, and charges have been laid. But she’s currently being treated at a mental health facility, after doctors diagnosed her withschizophrenia.

It was a worse sentence than any jailtime she could have done, and my heart broke for the woman whose mind had betrayedher.

“Do ye have any pain?” Shane asks, taking my hand as he navigates the narrowroad.

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