I shushed him gently and ran my thumb over his mouth. “Ye haven’t lost us.” I lowered my voice and did my own version of the Terminator, if he were Irish. “We’ll be back.”
Vail and Lor laughed, while Fallon heaved a long sigh.
We said our sweet goodbyes—with lots of hard and soft kisses and hugs—before I wrapped my arm around Fallon’s shoulders and led him out of the suite. “Sorry, rabbit.”
He shrugged. “We’re Company men. Sloan’s our boss. Can’t say no to him.”
He was right, of course. We couldn’t.
17
FALLON
“The Midnight Rockstaris a lot more fun after midnight,” I said, flashing a smile over my shoulder at Rowen as he followed me up the stairs to the VIP level on the second floor. Blue and purple neon lights zigzagged across the ceiling and reminded me of lightning from an old music video. Couches and armchairs were grouped around the room to give all the people dressed in their bestI wanna get fuckedclothes a place to sit and flirt with each other. It looked likeso muchfun and I wished we weren’t working. The live music on the stage from the heavy metal band battered my eardrums and rattled my bones.
“Ye don’t say,” he shouted, sounding grumpy—for Rowen, not a normal person—but his attention was glued to my ass. I felt pretty good about life, even though I was irritated as fuck, too. A stream of people going down the stairs in the opposite direction didn’t seem to catch his eye at all.
“Mm-hmm. They have a lot of live music and shit. And the couple who owns the place goes heavy on the alcohol. A lot of places like this shortchange you, but not them. Ames and Tulla are the best. They asked me to be their third once, but I turned them down.” I jumped up over the last step, landing on the floor before spinning around to tug lightly on his beard.
That nugget of info got Rowen’s attention and he frowned around as if he’d just decided he hated this place. “Why’s that? They unattractive? Rude?”
Snorting, I gave him a hug to chase off his frown. “Well, if you want the truth, it’s because....” I shuffled closer to him and winked. “At the time I was scared. I was only eighteen. But I like to believe it was fate. If I hadn’t turned them down, maybe I wouldn’t be here with you now.” I blew a kiss at him.
Rowen grinned and snagged my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Well, maybe I’d like to buy them a drink one night as a thank-ye for blowing their chance.”
He was probably joking, but a thrill bounced through me. “Yes! We should bring Vail here. We haven’t done much in the city lately.” I was trying to stay enthusiastic, but the longer we talked and dragged ourselves around NYC to yet more meetings, the more all this felt like work—which sucked because I loved shooting the shit with Rowen. It was a little after two in the morning, and I was done with this crap already.
He nodded and grinned. “Sounds like a good time. Do ye know where this party room is?” he asked with a frown. “That’s where we’re supposed to be meeting the boys. Is it always so dark up here?”
“Yeah. Come on. Dad throws parties here for his guys sometimes.” I walked to the right past the dark shadows of couches and high tables that lined a metal railing, which let people look down at the stage.
One of the staff rushed out of the private room and the opening door blinded us with light before it closed behind him. He had a tray clutched in both hands and flashed me a smile. “Would you care for drinks, gentlemen?” he asked.
“No,” Rowen said before I could open my mouth. I tried not to scowl at him, but he pursed his lips and his brow furrowed, so maybe I didn’t quite make it. “We’re not here for a good time.”
“Well, I am,” I said, waggling my eyebrows.
“Be careful. They’re jumpy,” the server said with a grin that was almost a cringe. With the way I was feeling, the words didn’t really mean much as I opened the door and stepped into the room. I flinched as a solid glass mug came sailing through the air and shattered on the wall to my left, then ducked too late to avoid the spray of beer that followed.
“What the bloody hell?” Rowen snarled, shoving into the room after me, and he had his gun in his hand as he came charging to my side.
Everyone went quiet. You could’ve heard a mouse fart.
Tadgh Quinn’s eyes were huge as he stood up from the leather couch across from the door. His red hair was a mess, sticking up every which way. There were couches on two other sides that were also full of guys, and a stripper pole took up the center, with a small platform at the base. One man, who seemed familiar, sat with his back leaning against the pole and his legs crossed.
Everyone looked like they’d just been caught doing something they shouldn’t have been, even though there were no naked people.
Tadgh held his hands up at his sides and shook his head, but Rowen stashed his gun in the holster under his suit jacket and stomped over to him.
“No, Rowen, I didn’t mean to do it!”
Rowen swung him around to slam him against the wall next to the couch on the right.
“Ye almost hit Fallon. Ye wanker.” He shoved Tadgh again but let him go. “If ye were all in here putting yer noggins together to come up with some plans of what ye should be doing to help the Company right now, instead of drinking like this is a stag party, ye wouldn’t be doing stupid shite.”
“I’m sorry, Rowen. Ya know those Reyes men are supposed to be around.” He gestured lamely at the mess on the wall, as if that justified what he’d done. He flashed a gap-toothed smile that quickly disappeared when it did him no good.
“So, ye’re what? Gonna clobber them with a mug of beer?” Rowen sounded a hell of a lot like Cillian right now, and I laughed so hard I snorted, until he glared at me, and then I sobered up quick. “Don’t be a feckin’ muppet.”
