“Feels good to have something besides coffee in my system.” He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth—the faint scent of dark spices and smoke curling from him when his arm falls to his side. The intoxicating scent makes me sway, and I throw a hand down on the counter to stabilize myself.
“You must be tired.” He shifts forward, placing his glass in the sink, but—hell, he’s close. Close enough that his towering form swallows mine. His breath slides over the side of my face, warm against my skin. I swallow, toes curling inside my boots.So close, he’s so close,my mind chants. His lips are right there, and … I want. Something twists inside me, not in my core, but in my chest. A needle-like ache pinpointing the desire to pull him in, touch him, test and tease him. If I moved in another inch or two, we’d be chest to chest, mouth to mouth, and the temptation whispers to me.
I’ve only been with one man, boy really. He was a college student from Harvard who rolled into O’Brien’s my first year out of high school. The relationship was superficial at best and had too many parallels to my dad’s when he met my biological mother. I didn’t want that, didn’t want anyone until now.
A gentle stroke grazes my knuckles, and I’m drawn to it. Grayson’s thumb caresses my hand so lightly it’s aggravating. “—get going.”
“What?” I missed what he said entirely.
He pulls his hand from mine, and I finally have the courage to look at his face. Dark circles sit above his cheekbones, his thick black hair disheveled and greasy. But when he smiles … the hard lines and somber expression he sports lift away. “I said, I’m going to take off. Need to finalize my report and actually make it through the shower before I have to head back to the station. Thanks for showing me the place.”
I step back, embarrassed.Shit, Aoife. You barely know him.And this—me tagging along with him—is about justice for Finn.
Rays from the afternoon sun streak across the living room hardwood, and I gather myself, tucking away the sensations flooding me in a nice big box with a bow. “Of course.”
He walks around the island, pausing one last time to glance around the living room. He lands on a photo of my dad, Summer, and me on our trip to Italy two summers ago. He stares at it. “No tree?”
“No, what?” I ask, confused. He’s looking at the photo, and there’s not a tree in it. We’re in the vineyards in northern Italy.
“Christmas tree.” He gestures around my décor-less living room.
“Oh, typically, I just help with the one at my dad’s.”
“Huh.”
“Huh? What’s huh?” I bristle, moving to the photo and slapping it face down on the side table.
“Nothing. It’s just you decorate your office at O’Brien’s or with your parents, but not here. At your own place.”
I frown, sidestepping him and moving to the door. “I’m not here that much. What’s your point?”
My hand hovers on the door handle as he approaches. “And your dad is still The Boss in your phone. Aren’t you the boss now?”
I slap my hand on my thigh. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot every detective was an insufferable ass. Don’t reach for anything, Grayson. It’s not there.”
He shrugs. “Seems like you might be struggling to accept your new role in this?—”
I open the door. “Detective Holtz is leaving now,” I announce. My lip curls as I fight the heat prickling behind my eyes.
Both my guards step inside, ushering Grayson out as I ignore his “goodbye, Aoife.”
When the door slams, I scowl at where he stood in the living room, all tall trench coat, dotted melted snow, and hands on his hips. Judging my Christmas decorations, is he serious? I take off toward my bedroom to shower, stripping off my stuck-on clothes as I go. I can’t believe I wanted him to kiss me. Damn law enforcement. They think they know something. He thinks because he saw a minute glimpse into my life, he’s entitled to speak on it. Screw him. I’m the leader of the Irish Mob. Me. And I’m doing the best I can. I don’t want to burden my dad with questions. He deserves to be with Summer, happy.
I switch the shower on. The hot water covers the marble floor and steams the surrounding glass, and I step in. Heat licks my skin and steals my breath. I tilt my head under the spray and allow the searing water to cascade over my face. It slides down my spine, pooling at my feet. I’m so tired, but I don’t have the luxury of fantasizing about a world where I’m not in this alone.
You’re the boss now. “Youare the boss, now,” I mumble over and over to myself, washing away the weight of it all.
He doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand what I deal with. To him, this is all money, drugs, and everything he fights against. Grayson will never understand what it’s like. The crushing weight of always being on. Being responsible for hundreds of families and their lives. Knowing the exact moment to act butnot overreact. It’s worse when you’re female. A man gets mad, and he’s passionate. A woman is beingdramatic. So, I walk the edge, refusing to be vulnerable because I can’t be seen as weak. But … but I desperately crave someone to settle into.
I crumple to the floor of the shower and clutch my knees into myself. Maybe he’s right. Maybe Idon’twant to accept I’m the Irish Mob leader because deep down, I know I wasn’t ready, not really, and I’m not sure I won’t humiliate my family name.
CHAPTER 9
AOIFE
Istare at the email from Sasha on the screen. Then, grossly, and one hundred percent unprofessionally mimic her voice the entire time I read it.My dad said he was able to track down the cartel members who took your shipment. He’s had them dealt with. You should be getting your shipment in the new year. He said he’s going to deliver them personally.
Great.
