Page 2 of Shattered Union

“Are you okay?” I ask, finally finding my voice.

She waves me away, not in the least bit impressed. “Fine, but if thisamadánis with you, maybe have him retake his driving test.”

My smile widens. “Let’s get you in the car, we’ll give you a lift home.”

She gapes at me. “Do you think I have a death wish? Why on earth would I get into a car with him behind the wheel?”

I shake my head; this woman is sassy as hell and I fucking love it. That’s also the second time she’s called Michael a moron in Irish. “Look, it’s raining, and if you stay in it much longer, you’ll be sick. So please, get into the car and let us give you a lift home.” My tone has a bite to it; I won’t be taking no for an answer. I need her to get in the car. I can’t explain the need to spend more time with her.

She nibbles on the corner of her lip and glances up at the sky before turning toward the car. She sighs heavily, “That would be great, thanks.”

I nod, “What about the kids?” I ask, remembering her saying there were children crying.

“They’re gone. I don’t know them; they couldn’t have been older than seven.” She shakes her head in disgust. “They shouldn’t be out in this weather and all alone.”

Well, that’s something we both agree on. “Come on, climb in.”

She walks ahead of me, and I almost swallow my tongue as I catch a good look at her delectable arse. Fuck. Today must be my mother fucking lucky day.

I climb in beside her and wait for Michael to start the car up again. “Where are we going?” he asks.

Before she can answer him, I turn to her. “Have you had dinner yet?”

Her brows knit together, and she twists her lips at the corner. “Are you asking me to dinner?” The confusion in her voice is clear to hear. Almost as though she didn’t expect me to want her.

“Yes,” I reply with a smirk. I must be bloody crazy. I’m married to a fucking bitch, I have five kids, and I’ve just asked a woman who’s name I don’t even know to dinner.

Michael grins. In the past twenty-two years, I’ve never been with anyone but Zoe. I’m not that type of man. I made a vow, and I had planned on sticking to it. But this woman, there’s something about her. I want her in a way I’ve wanted no one before.

She glances between Michael and me. “Will he be coming too?”

I can’t stop the laughter that bursts out of me. “No, babe, he won’t be.”

Her lips twist once again, her nose crinkles as she contemplates my offer. “Can I get changed first?”

Relief washes through me. “Yeah.” I glance down at my watch and see it’s almost six. “I’ll book us a table for eight thirty. That give you enough time?”

Her silver eyes widen as her features soften. “Yeah,” she whispers, “that’ll be loads of time. Thank you.”

She finally gives Michael her address and I notice she lives in a good neighbourhood, a part of Dublin which caters to the richer people. Once Michael pulls up outside her house, I climb out of the car and walk her to her door. Fuck me, I’m actually being a gentleman. My granda would never fucking believe it.

“I’ll be back at eight,” I tell her. I keep my eyes on her face; I’m so close to pushing her against the wall and kissing the fuck out of her. I’ve never had such a visceral reaction before. Even with Zoe and the ones that were before her, I’ve never had the urge to fuck someone there and then.

She licks her bottom lip and I hold back the groan, “Can I get your name?” she asks softly, her voice raspy. It’s like sin. Sexy and perfect. I’ve never been hit by a voice before, but hers packs a punch, knocking me off-kilter.

For the second time in less than thirty minutes, I throw my head back and laugh. “Denis, babe,” I tell her with a grin.

She leans in closer to me, her breasts close to my chest. “Hey, Denis, I’m Callie.”

“Well, Callie, it was a fucking pleasure to meet you. I’ll be back at eight.” I lean down and kiss her cheek. It takes a fucking lot of restraint to walk away from her. All I want to do is pull her into the house and fuck her senseless.

“Bye, Denis” she whispers as she pushes her key into the door. “I’ll see you at eight.” She opens the door and disappears into the house, closing the door behind her.

As I walk back to the car, I can’t help but feel as though something major has just happened. Fucking hell. The sooner eight o’clock comes, the bloody better.

1

Callie

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