“Overnight oats. What's the fuck is that?” I say against her throat.
“It's—” Her breath catches when I thrust into her. “Fuck—it's good for you.”
“So isthis.” I move harder, deeper, and she meets me stroke for stroke, her hands fisted in my hair.
“Then give me a very good reason”—she gasps, her body arching beneath mine—“to let those oats soak for a little while longer.”
When she finally pushes out of bed, she’s flushed, her hair an absolute mess. “Now do you want breakfast, champion?” she says, sliding onto my lap, kissing my cheek.
I love her.
“Let’s go.” When she turns to go, I give her a teasing slap to the arse.
I’ve never been happier. Erin is everything to me. The house feels alive with her in it. I don’t miss being alone because I have… her.
I go down to breakfast and eat her overnight damn oats, and they’re not half bad. When I look at my calendar—Christ. Panic grips my chest when I realize I almost forgot, which would be fuckin’disastrous.
It’s tribute night.
How will I explain my absence to my wife, who curls herself up beside me in bed? I can’t take her, no. And once again, I’m no closer to finding out who’s demanding the tribute.
“I have somewhere to be tonight, after I go to the club,” I tell her quietly.
“Oh, where?”
I look away. “Ah, I can’t say much about it. I’m sorry.”
Her eyebrows rise. “You can’t tell me? Why not? That makes no sense, Cavin.”
I blow out a breath. “I’m Irish mafia, Erin, you know that.
“Aye,” she says.
“And you know I have business to handle, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, it’s not safe for you to come with me, so you’ll stay here, right?”
“Well, aren’t I safest withyou?”
Well played.
“I said no.” My words come out sharper than I intended, and she takes a little step back.
“Well, it didn’t take long for the honeymoon to be over,” she says, wrapping her arms around herself.
She’s wearing my shirt, and it rides up, showing the little dimple right at her thigh. I want to kiss it. I want to lay her back in bed and help her forget anything that’s ever troubled her, but I can’t.
“I have to go to the club first, but I’ll be late tonight.”
“Are you going back to the ring?” she says, her eyes meeting mine. She knows that Seamus and Da don’t approve of me going to the ring.
But I only shrug. “Maybe,” I tell her. “Maybe one more fight.”
“Well, I can’t see why I can’t go with you to that,” she says.
“No back talk,” I snap. “It’s dangerous business, Erin, and I don’t want you to worry about it. I’ll be back later tonight.”
