When we finally collect ourselves and I get dressed, we set off to find the boys. We see everyone in the lobby, no doubt waiting for us to emerge from the dressing room. They don’t look panicked as much as they all look angry and slightly concerned. Callum’s face is hard, and his grip on my hand is both gentle and possessive.
“What do we know?” Callum questions with a steady, commanding tone. Everyone seemed to know he’d want answers as soon as he walked in because they were all ready to respond. Ronan is the first to speak.
“Fitz ran the plates, and they all came back as rentals under an alias, 'Dulhan Reaper.’ That’s about as far as we could get on that.”
Callum growls with malice, but Ronan continues. “We do have the driver. He says he won’t talk to anyone except you and Maeve.”
Callum goes rigid.
“Absolutely not. She isn’t going anywhere near him,” he retorts, manic anger caressing the surface of his self-control.
“I told him as much, but he just doubled down. I had the guys drive one of the SUVs to the back and put him in there until you decided whatto do with him,” Ronan says, and though his tone is confident, his eyes are questioning, silently asking whether Callum thinks this is a good call or not. Callum’s gaze shifts from Ronan to the windows behind him as if assessing his options while simultaneously watching for a potential threat.
“Take him back for holding. We still have one more stop to make today. Have two people on him until I return. And have someone drive the guy's car to the lot with them. I don’t want anything left unchecked.”
With a nod, Ronan sends out the orders to their men via text. Aisling stays silent until they finish talking before she finally speaks.
“Well, it looks like dress shopping is done for the day,” she says, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Why don’t you head to Ireland tomorrow morning, and I will have Celeste pick a dress for you. She has a gift when it comes to finding someone's perfect dress, even if you haven’t seen it before. I’ll have her send it to the house before the end of the day.”
“You know, Mom, that’s a great idea,” Callum says, returning his gaze to mine and squeezing my hand three times. “It will give us time to sort out what we need to take care of.”
I know he’s referring to the man they were now taking to some undisclosed location. “What do you think,mo agra?”
“I think that’s a great idea. Are we still going to the furniture store today, or…?”
“Of course we are. Why wouldn’t we?” Callum says calmly, as if the last thirty minutes hadn’t happened.
“Well, you two better be off now. I’ll let Henry know to have the plane fueled up tonight and be ready for takeoff in the morning,” Aisling tells us without skipping a beat. She comes in for a hug, and I embrace her a few seconds longer, just because.
We walk out of the back door to a new vehicle I haven’t seen before, and I realize that Callum must have had one of the men bring it here from the house so that we wouldn’t be recognized. It’s an F-150, brand new and blacked out. When Callum closes the door behind me, it looks like the sun has set. He hops into the driver's seat and begins our around-the-world journey to the furniture store. He makes sure no one follows us. I know he is still shaken by what just occurred at the dress shop, so I hold his hand a little tighter as we drive.
About eighteen minutes later, we finally pull into a private parking structure attached to the building. Round and round we go until we finally stop on the fifth level and park right next to the elevator. Our security detail has already cleared the building and ensured that there are no customers still shopping inside, and I wonder how much Callum is paying for us to have the store to ourselves.
The wooden doors are a blonde shade that fits the aesthetic well. The space is modern, with clean lines and light furniture sitting right against the floor-to-ceiling windows. To my left, the transition into a darker aesthetic is seamless. The windows on the left have deep green velvet curtains hanging from the very top, which pair well with the dark wood and leather, along with a few antique pieces sporadically placed throughout the mix. To the right is a more eclectic spread that has patterns and color galore. I know exactly where I want to be.
The owner pops out of nowhere, making me jolt inside. The only person who notices is Callum, and it’s only because he’s holding my hand. I had long since learned how to hide external reactions. He squeezes, reassuring me that everything is okay.
“Ah, if it isn’t one of my favorite customers,” the older gentleman says enthusiastically. Callum releases my hand to shake his in a warm greeting. How often does he shop for furniture?
“Al, I’d like you to meet my… Maeve,” Callum says, and Al looks delightfully surprised as he looks at me and then back at Callum before reaching out to grab my hand in between both of his. His touch is warm and inviting.
“It’s a pleasure, Al. Thank you for allowing us to come at such short notice,” I say, trying to convey the same warmth he radiates.
“Oh, my dear, the pleasure is all mine. Callum has been such a help to me over the years. Though I must say I’ve never seen him this light before, nor with a woman this beautiful,” Al looks between my stunned face and Callum’s. “Come to think of it, I don’t recall you ever bringing another lady with you before.” Al thinks aloud. Callum brings his hand to the small of my back before he responds.
“Well, Al, that’s because there has never been another woman.”
I jerk my head up and meet his eyes as he goes on, “There has only ever been Maeve.” I feel the burn in my eyes as he leans forward to place a kiss on my forehead. I close my eyes and soak in the warmth it brings me.
“Well, I will leave you two to look around and see what speaks to you. I’ll be in my office catching up on some paperwork, so just give me a shout when you’re ready for me,” Al says as he lifts his hand and waves it across the showroom. Callum gives him a nod, and Al walks to the back, where an office door is open in the corner of the room.
Callum turns to speak to Ronan and Orin, who are standing by the oak doors behind us. I walk toward the expansive window, which offers a beautiful view of the city. I take in the bustling citizens below who seem, for the most part, blissfully unaware of what occurs in the shadows.
I hear his shoes on the white marble floors as he crosses the room toward me, the sound muffled as he makes it to the rug that sits beneath the table in the middle of a staged living room of white and silver furniture. His hands land on my sides, and he kisses the left side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I can’t get enough of this man.
“What are you thinking about,mo agra?”
“Do you think anyone down there knows what the world is actually like?” I ask, and he slides his arm around my waist, pulling me as close to him as possible, resting his chin on my shoulder. It takes him a moment to respond.
