Page 153 of Where We Bloom

I check the time. Seeing that I still have a few minutes to spare, I call Skyla.

“And hello to you,” she says with a smile. “Avideocall. Fancy.”

“I wanted to tell you to break a leg tonight at the recital.”

“I see you’re not coming. Again.”

I blow out a breath and shake my head at her. “I’m in Dublin, Skyla Maeve. It’s not like I’m just across town and am blowing you off.”

She narrows her eyes, but I see the humor in them. “Billie misses you.”

“I miss her too.”

“Don’t worry, she’s staying busy with work and all of us. She’s coming tonight, along with Ma and Da.”

Our parents decided to stay in Montana for a while, and I know that Skyla has enjoyed spending time with them. “I know, I just got off the phone with Billie a few minutes ago. Anyway, I have to go. I love you.”

My sister grins at me. “I know. I love you too.Slán abhaile.”

Safe home.

That’s definitely where I want to be heading.

My entire family is in Montana.

I stand and button my suit jacket closed, something I’ve done a million times before. But today? Today, it feels as though my suit just doesn’t … fit.

I hadn’t realized until Billie kept commenting on my body how seldom I didn’t wear a suit.Until her.Until I had a reasonnotto don my armor every day. Until I had a reason to think outside of boardrooms, contractor meetings, and other business-focused affairs. Until I had someone who utterly and completely fit me.

And I her.

My other half.

My beautiful angel who rescued my soul from loneliness.

I need to wrap this up, so I leave my office, heading toward the boardroom. I need to get out of this suit and go home.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

BILLIE

Simon walks into my bookshop, and I scowl at him.

“Did you seriouslytattleon me?”

It doesn’t surprise me when he doesn’t smile.

“I like my job, Billie. I need you to help me keep it.” He assumes his position beside the front door, hands clasped in front of him, staring straight ahead.

“He looks like he could be the hero in one of the mafia books we read. All broad-shouldered and the obvious tattoos under that suit,” Emily says from beside me, not bothering to keep her voice down. “You know he’s muscled and can handle a gun. It’s kind of hot.”

Simon doesn’t even blink.

I swear, the man is made of stone.

“He’s not fiction. He’s a real-ass man, Em.” I roll my eyes and turn away from Simon. “Stop ogling my bodyguard.”

“Hey, not all of us have sexy billionaire boyfriends,” she reminds me with a smirk.

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