Page 185 of Dirty Eoin

I pacethe floor as I glance around the safe space in its tones of whites and creams.

Calling it that makes it sound like we’re living in a prison. We’re not. Or at least it doesn’t feel like one.

It’s luxurious, the floor space even larger than that of my penthouse apartment. It’s spatially furnished, which works well when you have two kids who are still finding their feet and forever bumping into things.

Eoin’s been back forty-eight hours now, and he’s remained holed up in his suite pretty much the entire time.

This morning I received a single-word message.

Eoin:Noon.

I’ve had to ask Roisin and Duke to take the boys to visit with Auntie Sarah and cousin Caoimhe for the day.

I couldn’t miss their grinning faces as they left. I’m only grateful that Fergal is out with Cillian and Aidan. I’m not sure I could have coped with Da Duster’s smirk on top of theirs.

I’m sure the entire family already know that Eoin and I fucking in the back of an SUV is what landed him in the hospital.

I message Dylan.

Jaine:You left without saying goodbye the other day.

Dylan:I was just safeguarding my head.

Jaine:What did you tell him?

There’s a pause.

Jaine:Dylan!

Dylan:He has the recordings from the hospital, Jaine. All of them.

Jaine:Shit.

Dylan:You told him all of it already. There was always the chance that he would remember everything. That he still could even without the aid of the recordings.

He’s right. Maybe it’s best that it’s all out in the open as opposed to it potentially coming out at a later date.

Dylan:He’s also seen the message on his phone. The one you sent him at the precise moment he got shot.

So it’sallout there. He knowseverything.

I rub my sweaty palms down my pants, suddenly nervous. What to say? How to act? He’ll be here any minute.

There’s a knock on the door. My heart immediately thuds in response.

Jaine:He’s here.

Dylan:Then answer the door to him. He was always going to come and find you. Nothing was going to keep him away. Don’t keep him waiting. I wouldn’t want to be the door standing between my big brother and the woman he now views as his.

I place the phone on the side table before running sweaty hands down my cargo pants once more and opening the door.

I take him in as he stands there in snug black jeans and a black fitted sweater. His clothes do nothing to disguise the perfection hidden underneath. He leans against the door frame with his arms folded and wearing a confident smile as I blatantly admire him.

His hair is messy, he looks exhausted, and the eyes on his GQ model-like face have dark rings around them, but nothing can detract from this man’s presence.

Dangerous. Powerful. Addictive.

All topped off with spicy cologne that together create the most intoxicating of aphrodisiacs.

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