ASPEN KAVANAGH
January 10th
Dr. Vail Mifflin,my little doc, was going to murder me.
Not literally, although a few times it came close when we faced off with the Italian mob for him. No, he was going to stop my heart with the sly grin he gave me as he let Rowen and Cillian drag him outside all bundled up in borrowed black-and-red plaid winter gear. The frigid wind caught the front door of Touch of the Islands, the Victorian bed-and-breakfast that belonged to my auntie Lisa, and it slammed behind them.
The Shaughnessys had turned up a few days after Fallon, one of my roommate-slash-fuck buddies who shared Vail with me. Cillian had decided the moment he woke up this morning that he was whisking Vail away, and Rowen had said he’d go with them, in a very Rowen way so that it came out as more of a request than a demand. Cillian hadn’t argued, and while Vail had offered Fallon and I the option to tag along, as soon as I’d said no, so did Fallon.
Our refusal must’ve given Vail the idea we were going to get up to something bare-skinned and heavy, so even before the cute smirk, he’d leaned in and whispered, “Fuck him while we’re not here. You know you want to.”
I swore Cillian was a bad influence on him.
So, he’d given me that encouraging look before he’d left, and now I was alone with Fallon. Uncle Samuel was busy entertaining the few guests who hadn’t left to sightsee, Auntie Lisa had gone grocery shopping, and the chef wouldn’t be here until later. Fallon and I were in the kitchen, and he was sitting on a stool beside the wood-topped stone island as I rooted around in the stainless steel fridge for something easy to eat. With a huff, I glanced at the two industrial gas stoves and the large wall oven but decided I wasn’t up for actual cooking.
We hadn’t talked much since Vail left with the guys, other than me asking if he was hungry, but that wasn’t new. Prior to Vail coming along, Fallon and I barely said two words to each other in a day. It wasn’t that he was a bad guy or I didn’t like him, I just wasn’t the kind of person who spoke for the sake of filling silence. Add in the weird dance we were doing now that I’d fucked him, and there wasn’t much to say.
Fallon looked good today, though, dressed in a loose white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of faded jeans. His shoulder-length blond hair framed his face in soft waves, making him appear sweeter than usual.
“How was your Christmas?” Fallon asked, surprising me.
I placed a package of ham and tub of butter I’d found in the fridge on the corner of the island closest to him and stared into his blue eyes for a few long seconds. He sounded unsure and shifted on the stool awkwardly, as though he wanted there to be conversation and didn’t know what to say. It took me a few moments to realize I hadn’t seen him since the week before Christmas. He’d gone to stay with his parents for the holidays—against the advice of everyone we lived with, including me—and by the time he’d gotten back, Vail and I were here at Auntie’s house.
“Fine,” I said, narrowing my gaze on the ham. I ripped the package open before I grabbed a loaf of sliced bread off the counter near the fridge. “Yours?”
“Fine.” He mimicked my answer with a grin. “You know, parents. Dad had a lot to say about where I stick my dick. Padraig was an asshole. Grady stayed out of it. The usual.”
The last time I was around for an encounter Fallon had with his family, it was his oldest brother, Padraig, rocking up to him at one of Sloan’s victory parties, demanding he stop embarrassing their father and mother. Apparently it was one thing to be gay, but another thing entirely to be in a poly relationship with four different men. I’d never had any love for his oldest brother, but there weren’t many people I did like.
I nodded and slathered lots of butter on my sandwich. Fallon never liked as much, I’d learned that from living with him, so when it came to his bread, I used less.
“This is a great conversation.” He flashed me his straight white teeth in a grin, and I snorted. “I can’t shut you up. I’ve never met someone who talks as much as you do.”
“Only ham?” I pointed at the buttered bread.
“Yeah, I fucking love meat.” Mischief passed over his face, and I braced myself for what I knew was coming. “I prefersausage, though.”
I’d never met anyone quite like Fallon. He’d always enjoyed flirting with everyone who crossed his path. Since meeting and starting a relationship with Vail, he’d mostly stopped doing it with strangers, but I was a different story. Awkwardness aside, he’d amped up his attention on me, and I hated to admit how much I enjoyed it.
“Come on.” He leaned forward, eyes sparkling, and ran a finger along his jaw. He’d shaved smooth recently, probably when he was staying at his parents’ place, and some golden scruff was beginning to grow back. “Give me something to work with. Moan my name. Tell me how sexy I am.”
I raised my eyebrows at him as I finished laying three pieces of ham on his sandwich, then knocked the Mets cap I wore up slightly so I could see better. Picking up the knife, I held it up as I leaned in closer to him. “I can make you bleed with a butter knife if you give me the chance.”
“Don’t tease me with a good time.” He winked and curled his fingers around my wrist, dragging the knife closer. His pink tongue darted out between his lips and he licked up the blunt spine of the gleaming silver knife, gathering the small amount of butter left on it. “Mm. Yum.”
I blinked at him. “That’s butter, you idiot.”
His laughter filled the kitchen. I shook my head at his stupidity and went back to making the sandwiches while he rested his elbows on the counter, slanting forward so he was still in my line of sight even though my attention was on the bread.
“I still think it’s weird you use butter instead of mayo on ham sandwiches. It’s not bad, though. Hey, what do you think the boss is going to do about the Italians?”
“Which ones?” I grunted out. I usually hated talking about work while I was in Auntie’s home—she knew nothing about the Killough Company, the Irish mob I worked for that was run by Sloan Killough, and I wanted it to stay that way, if only to keep her safe. She wouldn’t approve because she was a religious woman who believed in doing good.
“You know which ones.” He frowned at me, and I pretended not to notice. Fallon had a gentler appearance than the rest of us, and according to a couple of guys in the Company, he was a pretty boy. I agreed with them, but I didn’t see anything wrong with it, either. He was compact with defined muscles, and a full mouth that could suck dick like slurping poison from a wound.
“Carmine and Dino. The Giordanos.” He rolled his eyes and tapped a finger on the wooden island top. “You were there.”
The meeting he was hinting at was with the Giordano brothers—two mafiosos who wanted to steal the Follieros’ spot in the Five Families of New York City. They weren’t the nicest men I’d met, but I’d expected no less. Carmine at leastactednice, but he was what my mother called a snake in the grass. He seemed harmless enough, but if we gave him a chance, he’d bite us. Sloan knew that, and so did we.
