“That wasn’t the deal.”
Kieran slams his drink down on the table so that some of the liquor spills onto the worn baize. “Fuck the deal! It’s only causing a distraction at this point.”
“No. Even if that was your decision to make, brother, which it fucking isn’t, we are Sullivans. Our word still matters.”
“So, now this family is a dictatorship?”
“It is when it comes to my wife.”
I don’t miss the look Cormac and Brennan share across the room, which only annoys me more.
I look at each of my brothers in turn. “This is exactly what this mole wants: to break us apart from the inside. We need to present a united front, which means no one touches Callum McCarthy.”
Kieran scoffs. “So, what, then? We wait until he makes a mess big enough for us to clean up?”
I shake my head. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
Cormac finally joins us at the table. “Then what are you saying?”
“I think we should toss him a bone to keep him close as well as occupied. It needs to be something important enough to keep him from getting restless, but not so critical that he can cause damage.”
Brennan nods. “A decoy job. It’s not a bad idea.”
Kieran chuckles darkly. “So, we treat him like a misbehaving dog? Give him a toy and hope he forgets to chew the furniture?”
“If it works, he’s off our radar, and Ciara stays happy. If it doesn’t… Well, we’ll know soon enough.”
Kieran lifts his glass as a shit-eating grin spreads across his face. “To family, then. Or at least, the trustworthy part.”
I clink my glass against his, but I don’t smile because the truth is, I’m not sure we’ve got any of that left.
I stepinto the house and exhale, feeling the storm that’s been raging in my head all day start to quiet. It’s been a long few hours, but after the meeting with my brothers, I finally feel like things are moving in the right direction, and any progress, however small, still counts.
Shrugging out of my jacket and tossing it onto the chaise in the foyer, I head into the living room in search of Ciara. As expected, I find her curled up on the couch with her bare legs tucked beneath her, flipping through a book she doesn’t seem all that interested in. Her sweater is slipping off one shoulder, and her checked pajama shorts are barely doing their job of covering her ass. Adding in her messy blonde hair, she has created a very dangerous combination.
I swallow a groan as my cock instantly thickens. Not only does she look sexy as hell, but seeing her perfectly at home stretched out over the cushions like she owns the place has my chest swelling with pride.
She’s becoming more of a Sullivan with every passing day, and I fucking love it.
She doesn’t look up from her book. “You can rest easy, Sullivan. I haven’t left this damn room all day.”
I shift on my feet as the irritation in her tone sends a rush of blood straight to my dick.
No matter whether she’s mad or tired or challenging me until I want to rip my hair out, this woman never fails to have my mind in the gutter.
I have to have her.Now.
Stephen shifts near the window, as if he can read the intention on my face and is subtly reminding me that we’re not alone.
I barely glance at him, my attention too preoccupied with how sexy my wife looks. “Take the rest of the night.”
“Boss,” he says quietly before leaving the room.
As soon as he’s gone, I stride toward Ciara and make no attempt to be subtle about the way I adjust myself.
Not that Ciara’s paying any attention to me, of course, but for some reason, that only makes me harder. She might think she’s punishing me by making me work for her attention, but in reality, it’s going to end up the other way around.
When she finally looks up at me, her green eyes briefly widen as she finds me towering over her curled-up body.
