Page 132 of Dirty Eoin

It’s been eight months.

It feels like yesterday. Feels like a lifetime ago.

I’ve come to realize that grief is the heavy price we have to pay for love. That to experience the good, you have to be prepared to roll with the bad.

Jessie and Sarah think I’m lucky to have experienced real love more than once.

Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not.

What they don’t understand is that loving more than one person isn’t the blessing they think it is. In fact, it can be quite the opposite. Because one of the guaranteed side-effects of love is that it instantly creates an opportunity for your heart to get broken. More love just equals more opportunities, and given the number of times my heart has been broken, I’m surprised it’s still beating in my chest.

I still wouldn’t change anything.

Not with Ace. Not with Irish.

Not with Eoin.

I pull up at the gated entrance and press the keypad to be let in. While waiting, I take in the vulgar O’Connell residence once more with its too much of everything going on. It’s only the second time I’ve been here. I never wanted to return after my last visit and came up with every excuse under the sun to avoid having to do so. Who can blame me after what I was backed into the first time around? I’ve also chosen to stay away because I’ve had no wish to meet Ma Duster. And Fergal? We tolerate each other from a business perspective. Why would I want to play happy families with him when I still wear the scar of our cozy little heart-to-heart on my cheek? With the right make-up, it can easily be hidden, but it will always remain. Out of sight but never out of mind. An invisible reminder of the time I danced with the Duster Devil and lived to tell the tale.

I watch as the security cameras fix on me. They’ll no doubt follow my every move. Is it big brother watching this time, or is it the matriarch herself? She must be rejoicing in the fact that her son and heir is going to be heading down the aisle with someone of a suitable caliber second time around and he’ll no longer be tied to biker trash like me.

The gates slowly open. I rev my engine and ride through.

I’ve been told to head towards the rear of the building this time. The party is outside. It’s my guess it will be extravagant, over the top, and everything two little boys don’t need. Still, I can accuse the O’Connells of being many things, but I can’t accuse them of not being family orientated. I may mean nothing to them, but my two little boys mean everything. They are both embraced and loved by this family. Their acceptance of JJ surprised me. Eoin’s acceptance of him even more so given he’s always been way too selfish to sacrifice any part of his big, conceited self for anyone else.

He loves JJ, and in turn, JJ loves him.

All eyes turn in my direction as my hog roars into view. I smirk inwardly as Jessie points exaggeratedly. She’ll no doubt have been taking credit all morning over the fact that she’s the one who managed to prize Jaine Jones out from under her goddamn rock.

All the casually dressed O’Connell men are standing together in an almost identical pose with their hands slung low on their hips, Aidan’s messy blonde hair making him contrast against the others.

The only one missing is Eoin.

I’m guessing it won’t be long before I see my eldest son in a similar stance given the same blood runs through his young veins.

My eyes then drift to Roisin. She’s standing beside Duke and holding Fin in her arms.

I frown. Where’s JJ?

It’s then I see him. Or should I say them.

Eoin and Ava.

Her arm is linked through his and he’s holding a smiling JJ in his arms. They look like the prefect little family enjoying this pleasant summer’s day.

I swallow thickly. I can’t describe the feelings that run through me.

Guilt that my little boy doesn’t have a mommyanda daddy.Regretthat it could have been me with him. Acceptance that it is what it is and it’s time to just suck it the fuck up and move on.

Everyone stands and stares at the female biker as she parks up her gleaming classic hog. The girl who was verbally warned to stay away but who is now being reluctantly welcomed because she’s produced something they’d all quite literally kill for.

A male Duster heir.

I take off my half helmet and swing my blonde hair free before removing my black aviators and my patched leather jacket.

I immediately feel Eoin’s intangible darkness caress my soul, and I almost groan out loud at the sensation. I don’t make eye contact with him. I can’t.

It’s been four short weeks. Nowhere near long enough. Fake marriage or not, I’ve missed him. I’ve missed our conversation. There was no acting involved in our shared intimacy, and I’ve missed that too. Even now, the raging hot inferno inside of me still burns for him.

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