Katie:Okay. I hope you enjoyed your date with Killian. He seems lovely and he’s absolutely gorgeous. If you need a lie-in just let me know.
She added a smiley face with love hearts for eyes at the end of her text. I glared at Killian who was checking his own phone. “My client has asked me about my ‘date’,” I said. “Would you happen to know anything about how she knows, or may I assume that the Callaghan rumour mill has worked overtime this afternoon?”
He smirked and looked back at his phone.
“Fine,” I said, standing up and grabbing my bag. “I’m getting a drink and going to bed. Might update my profile on those dating apps…” I wandered out of the lounge and into the kitchen, counting Mississippis in my head until I heard footsteps at the doorway.
“Thirty-five,” I said, switching on the kettle.
“Thirty-five what?” Killian leaned against the doorframe.
“I counted to thirty-five before you got here.”
“How long were you going to give me?” I wasn’t sure if he meant seconds right now or something else.
“A minute. Before I stopped counting anyway. Did you come in here for me or for the whisky bottle for you, Max and my dad?” My hands automatically went to my hips and I felt myself revert to full on force mode.
Killian laughed and swung himself round to where I was standing. “You. And the whisky. But mainly you.” His hands went to my waist, the size of them enough to almost surround the circumference and then he kissed me hard enough to make my toes curl. “I told my brother I was taking you out. He must’ve told Katie. He’s not gossiping – he’s trying to keep her mind on lighter stuff. I’m sorry if you didn’t want your client to know.”
My mind tried to catch up with his words but it was still somewhere with his mouth on mine. “It’s fine.” I stood on my tiptoes and reached up to kiss him, needing to taste the mix of beer and whisky once more.
He complied. Briefly.
“I thought you were going to bed?”
“I was…”
“Don’t want you to be grumpy in the morning. Better get that sleep now,” he said, one hand on my waist, the other reaching for the whisky bottle.
“Oh, like that, is it?” I said, moving away from him. “Had enough of me tonight?”
His laugh was low and rumbling, blue eyes dancing in amusement. “Never. Spend time with me tomorrow after you’ve finished your day? Marie and your dad are away for a couple of nights…”
“They are?”
“I love the way you Callaghans communicate. Yes, they’re staying with Jackson and Vanessa as your dad has a function where he’s guest speaking and Marie is meeting friends who are over from New York. Why do I know this and you don’t?”
I shrugged. “This is how we roll. Max knew about us for more than thirteen years and didn’t say a thing until now.”
He leaned back against the kitchen units. “How do you feel about him knowing?”
“Relieved. Surprised. A bit stupid. And unsurprised because it’s Max.” I watched his expression, solid and ungiving but I knew his eyes well enough to be able to read them. “He doesn’t mind. If he did, he’d have said something back then. You know that.”
“Does he know why it ended?”
His words cut into me and I felt the effects of the alcohol only at that point when my legs felt weak beneath me. I reached back and held the worktop, shaking my head. “No. Shit, no.” I sighed, closing my eyes. “Marie does. Marie knew about us. I had to tell her.”
He nodded and stepped towards me, picking me up and lifting me onto the worktop. “Listen. Listen carefully because we’re not having this conversation again. You broke my heart when you stopped speaking to me, I won’t lie. But I knew you, Claire and I still do. There was a good reason behind it and I trust in that. Tell me when you’re ready to. But until then, let’s just get to know each other again because it seems clear that neither you nor I have ever moved passed those few months.”
“Okay.” It was one word to his soliloquy, but it was all I had. My fears weren’t erased but they were abated for now. “I should go to bed.”
“Will you think of me?”
“In bed?”
“Where else?”
I remembered being in bed with him, how he would sleep with his arm across me, palm over my breast and in the morning his cock would be pressed into my ass whether he was awake or not. He’d been my addiction, the way my body had responded instinctively to him, waking up and needing him like coffee. I didn’t think it would be any different this time. “Yes, I’ll think of you. But let’s leave the rest of that conversation for another time.”
