Page 3 of Dublin Charmer
Tag’s eyes narrow, all that sharp intelligence behind them flickering like a storm. “If that fucker thinks he can come at us unprovoked and walk away from it, he can think again. Northside is ours. If he wants it, he’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.”
Jimmy gives a grim nod and claps Tag on the shoulder. “I’ll reach out to my old contacts and see what they’ve heard. If Gravely is coming for you, he won’t get far before I know about it.”
Jimmy shifts his attention to me next. “Keep digging, kid. The more we know, the better. If there’s intel to find, you need to find it.”
Tag’s grip tightens around his glass, the ice inside clinking as he swirls the amber liquid. “And find it fast, Finny. We’ve got a lot riding on you.”
Jimmy walks away, and I stay rooted to the spot, the weight of Tag’s words settling heavy on my chest. For the first time, my fingers itch for more than a keyboard—I want to fight, to bleed, to prove I’m not just the one who watches from the shadows.
The snow outside thickens, blanketing the world in white. But even as the party rages on around me, I feel something dark looming in the distance.
Gravely’s just the start.
Whatever is coming for us, I’m ready to step out from behind my computer and take it head-on.
An hour or two later, I sip the last of my whiskey, savoring the warm burn as it slides down my throat. The party is in full swing,crystal chandeliers casting golden light across the ballroom of the rented estate. My brothers are scattered throughout—Tag charming politicians, Brendan and Bryan shooting the shit with business associates, the usual family operations disguised as holiday cheer.
Ginny appears beside me, her red dress catching the light as she sways slightly. Her cheeks are flushed, matching the color of her dress, and her eyes sparkle with mischief.
“How many of those have you had?” I nod toward her empty champagne glass.
“Enough for a lovely buzz and swirl. You?”
“About the same.”
“Then we should have that dance.”
“Aye, we should.” I set my empty glass on a passing server’s tray. Alcohol has loosened my limbs and taken the edge off my mood. I take her hand in mine and lead her to the dance floor. The live orchestra is playing a rendition of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and I spin her into position.
Her eyes widen as her intake of breath gets swallowed by the surrounding room. I place my hand on her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric, and hold my opposite hand up for her to claim.
“Look at you, Mr. Quinn. I didn’t know you had the moves of Fred Astaire.”
I waggle my brows and get us moving. “I expect there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
We move across the floor, our steps not quite matching the rhythm, but we’re in good company. We’re not the only ones riding the buzz of the night.
Not that Ginny seems to care. She’s relaxed in my arms, beaming at me with a smile that makes my chest tighten. “This is nice.”
“Aye, it is.” I nod to the head of our charitable arm of Quinn Industries dancing with his wife and turn us to follow the flow of the other dancers.
“When did you become a man, Finn?”
I laugh. “I was fifteen and took Lexi Dawson for a joyride in Tag’s Jeep. Poor planning on my part. I should’ve taken Sean’s Camaro. The back seat was way bigger.”
Ginny giggles and shakes her head. “Not what I meant, but now I feel bad for Lexi Dawson.”
“Och, there’s no need. I made it up to her a dozen times over the next week.”
“A dozen times. Well then, now I think—” She stumbled slightly, pitching to the side. I reach to steady her, my hand accidentally cupping her breast. After getting her back on her feet, I yank my hand away immediately, heat rushing to my face.
“Shit—I’m sorry?—”
Ginny bursts into laughter, drawing curious glances from nearby dancers. “Are you hitting on me, Quinn?”
“That wasn’t intentional.” My embarrassment fades as she continues laughing, her head tipping back to expose the elegant line of her throat.
“I know it wasn’t, but you should see your face.” The song changes, and as the tempo slows, she straightens, throwing her arms over my shoulders, and steps against my chest. “I think this is more my speed anyway.”
