Her long hair falls around her shoulders, and she pushes it back before resting a palm on my thigh. It’s unfair, the delicate touch sending me reeling even though she’s not looking at me. Finally. Finally, she glances over, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and giving my thigh a light squeeze. She leans her head over to my shoulder, dropping it there, positioning her mouth so her breath floods my ear. “You’re not alone, Grayson. Not anymore.”
Aoife grabs my hand and pulls me through the doors of O’Brien’s. It’s filled with twists of velvety red and strings of white lights that swish along the bar. Members of the Irish and their families pack the place while Christmas music competes to stay relevant over the plentiful conversation. Glasses of hot whiskey, Guinness, and half-eaten mince pies crowd the tables.
The tingle from the cold finally nips away in the warmth of the bar. I hadn’t planned on staying for the rest of the service, but when Aoife and her parents sat down with me, it felt right, and we enjoyed it together.
Laughter booms from behind the bar; those working are enjoying the festivities. Beer, cinnamon, the crisp of the cold, snowy Boston from the rush of air entering when the door opens—all the smells invade my senses.
Aoife finally drops my hand and turns to me. “What do you want to drink?”
I stare into those bright blue eyes, struck by how one day without seeing them makes me suffer. “I’d rather find somewhere to talk,” I say.
She nods. “We can go to my office.”
I follow her through the crowd, nodding to several people, including Ace, who’s laughing with others at the bar. The music and chatter fade as we make our way down the hallway where she scans into her office and shuts the door.
She turns, and I step into her, consumed by the thought of finally being alone with her. She gasps, falling back into the door. My mouth lands on hers, and I kiss her. She tastes like spiced rum and sweet citrus, and I groan, finally having her body pressed to mine again. I nip her lower lip before releasing her. “Why come tonight? How did you know I’d be there?”
“I told you. You’re not alone.” She smiles, but then it falls, and my brows dip. No. No. Why is she frowning? “Your words have haunted me since you said them. I know you don’t know howthisworks, but … there’s room for you here, Grayson. There’s room for you herewithme. Alongside me. I never pictured myself with someone, not really. I figured I’d succumb to the pressure to carry on the O’Donnell name at some point and marry out of an alliance, but I didn’t think I’d fall in love with a detective while sitting in your car and sharing donuts or looking at Christmas lights. That wasn’t in my plans. But with you, I’m just Aoife. I can breathe. I’m safe. And I’m too selfish to let that go, to letyougo.”
I fight the grin pleading for escape and settle on a lighthearted smile despite my heart feeling anything but light. It’s heavy with emotion, desire, and love. The opposite of the emptiness I started the month with.
“I was wrong,” I say, hauling her close.
She looks up at me through her thick lashes. “About what?”
I cup her face, brushing a thumb along her cheek. “Idoknow how this worksandhow it ends.”
“Oh, yeah? How’s that?”
“With you and me. For the long haul.”
EPILOGUE
THREE YEARS LATER
Grayson stands at the edge of the yacht, his hands in his pockets, watching the waves slosh around the boat. Aoife approaches him from behind and wraps her arms around him. “Aren’t you cold? We’re about to eat.”
He breathes in. “Yes, just enjoying the sunset.”
Aoife slides in next to him, appreciating the stripes of golden yellow ushering in deep pinks and purples. “Gray took a full bottle tonight. My dad was pretty excited.”
Grayson pulls Aoife into him, leaning down to smell the salt in her hair. “I love you. You know that?”
She looks up at him, beaming. “I love you, too. But if Sasha is made to wait for whatever games she has contrived, I may lose my next shipment of ARs.”
He chuckles. “All right. Let’s go.”
They walk back in, the warmth of Kieran O’Donnell’s new yacht soothing. The staff sets the table for the New Year’s Eve dinner. Kate, Summer, and Luna laugh in the corner. Sasha and her younger brother set up for the Minute-To-Win-It games while she also argues with Nik’s oldest son about a shipment lost in the Pacific.
Grayson laughs, threading his fingers through Aoife’s. “Never figured crime families would be so … normal.”
Aoife huffs. “Define normal?”
He gestures toward where Luka, Nik, and Kieran stand together. Luka with his vodka, Nik with his protein smoothie, and Kieran rocking his two-month-old grandson, Gray. They laugh, the silver strands peppering their hair and dotting their beards, revealing how old they are now. Brothers till the end they’ll always be. And when death creeps up and strips them of the life they’ve built, they’ll go in peace because they’ve established a next generation with their women by their side. They’ve made sure their bloodlines will live on—Morozov, Balakin, O’Donnell. Bound by friendship, perpetuated by love, and legacies forged with blood ties that’ll never break.
THE END
