Wild Passion

by Mari Carr

  Dad ignored them. “I’m glad you asked, Lucas. You see, there was a blizzard the year Caitlyn was born, a real doozy. Keira was working in the restaurant and I had planned to pick her up after her shift because the snow was coming down so hard. Got a call from Riley to come early because Keira was having labor pains. We all thought they were those…” Her dad snapped his fingers. “What do you call them?”

  “Braxton Hicks, false labor,” Keira said. “Caitlyn wasn’t due until Valentine’s Day.”

  “Which would have been a totally cool birthday,” Caitlyn added.

  “Anyway, Riley was freaking out,” Dad said. “And—”

  “I was not freaking out,” Riley interrupted. “I was merely concerned. And you’re lucky I was.” No one in Caitlyn’s family ever told a story alone. Once a tale was begun, it wasn’t unusual for everyone to take part in the retelling. “Called Will and then I called Lane.”

  “Lane’s mine and Paddy’s mom,” Colm said to Lucas for clarification. “She’s a nurse.”

  Lucas nodded. Caitlyn was fairly certain he knew that, but Lucas was smart enough not to repeat the same mistake he’d made the night she’d introduced him to Lochlan.

  “Mercifully, Lane was here when I arrived,” Dad said, taking over the story again, “because the city closed the road to the hospital.”

  “How did you get there?” Lucas asked.

  “We didn’t,” Caitlyn said. “I was born right here. In this apartment. My dad and Lane delivered me.”

  “Not going to lie,” Will said. “I was scared spitless. So many things could have gone wrong.”

  “But none of them did, Dad.”

  “That’s right. I was blessed with my beautiful January girl.”

  “You were born in this apartment?” Lucas’s brow was creased.

  She giggled. “Crazy, right? I actually live in the same place where I was born.” Caitlyn looked around the room. “Just one of the reasons why I love this place so much.”

  Lucas didn’t reply. Instead, he looked troubled.

  Part of her, the uncharitable part, hoped he was feeling guilty for trying to take away her home. Neither of them had mentioned his interest in the pub. Not once. For weeks.

  Actually, it had been long enough she hoped that meant he’d given up.

  The main reason why she had wanted him to spend time with her family was so he could see what this place meant to them. It was so much more than four walls and a ceiling. Three generations of her family had lived and worked here—filling the space with a million and twelve different memories.

  Caitlyn was born here. Grandma Sunday died here. Pop Pop had confided to her on her thirtieth birthday that he’d always liked the symmetry in that.

  Life takes away, but it also gives back.

  The football was kicked off and the game began. For the next three hours, she and Lucas shared the couch with Pop Pop, eating wings and cheese fries, drinking beer, cussing the refs, laughing at all the trash talking and having a great time. By the end of the game, Lucas was right in the midst of all the fun, tossing in a few funny barbs of his own when the Steelers lost.

  But more than that, her family had warmed up to him. Colm had grabbed a beer for him during a timeout, he and Lochlan had engaged in an obnoxiously long conversation about cigars, and her mom gave him the biggest slice of cake, even though it was her birthday.

  Once the game was over, the crowd started to disperse. Her parents said their goodbyes and left, then most of the men headed downstairs to the pub to discuss the game with Tris at the bar. Darcy, Bubbles and Riley were in the kitchen, washing dishes, which left her and Lucas alone with Pop Pop.

  “Tell me about your family, Lucas,” Pop Pop said.

  Lucas looked slightly uncomfortable. She wondered if that was because of who his family was, or because he realized how different his was in comparison.

  “Not much to say. My parents are divorced. My brother passed away.”

  “Oh,” Pop Pop said, his eyes filled with compassion. “I’m sorry to hear that, son.”

  Lucas shrugged. “We aren’t a particularly close family.”

  “Well, then, we’ll just have to adopt you into ours. Always room for one more.”

  Lucas chuckled as he glanced around the living room. At least four people had been forced to sit on the floor to watch the game, while her mom, Riley and Bubbles had dragged in dining room chairs for a place to sit.

  “I appreciate the offer,” Lucas said, though he appeared more uncomfortable than touched. Perhaps he’d reached his limit of family time. After all, she’d thrust a guy who never spent time with his family into a room with too many of hers for hours on end.

  “Let me grab some clothes from my room, Lucas, and we can head home.”

  Lucas nodded and started to rise, but Pop Pop stopped him. “I’ll keep your young man company while you’re gone.”

  Caitlyn walked back to her room, determined to pack quickly. God only knew what kind of third degree her grandfather would put poor Lucas through. Unfortunately Darcy, who wandered into her bedroom, waylaid her.

  “Nice necklace.”

  Caitlyn reached up to touch the diamond. No one had mentioned the expensive piece of jewelry, but she didn’t doubt they’d all seen it.

  “Looks expensive.”

  “Yeah,” Caitlyn said with a sigh. “I’m pretty sure it is.”

  “So things between you and Lucas are serious, huh?”

  Darcy had only just turned twenty-one. Caitlyn and her brother referred to Darcy as one of the baby cousins. Thirteen years spanned between the cousins, and as such, there’d been a natural divide in the older ones and the younger ones. Not that she didn’t love her younger cousins just as much as the ones closer to her age. It simply meant that she, Paddy, Colm, and Ailis had grown up as friends, while babysitting the younger ones.

  “I guess,” Caitlyn replied, hating how uncertain her relationship with Lucas was.

  “That necklace feels like something pretty serious.”

  “That’s just it,” Caitlyn said, sinking down on her bed. “Lucas is filthy rich, which means he can drop thousands on something like this and not blink twice. I’m not sure the necklace signifies much more than a simple birthday gift to him.”

  “Wow. I’ll be sure to let him know my birthday’s coming up soon.”

  Caitlyn laughed. “It’s ten months until your birthday.”

  “You’re right. Maybe I should point out that he missed it. I’m sure I can work the appropriate amount of guilt into it.” Darcy had inherited her mom Riley’s sense of humor.

  Darcy pointed to the bag Caitlyn had been packing. “Heading back to his place, I see.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Mom said Lucas lives in a big swanky penthouse on the waterfront. Must beat the hell out of sharing a room with Ailis.”

  It was different, but not better. Sometimes when Lucas was at work and she was alone at the penthouse, she missed the noise, the constant activity of this place. She’d grown up in a crowd and didn’t care for solitude and silence. Yet another way she and Lucas were unalike. She gathered he loved living alone, having his own space, the quiet.

  “It’s okay. For now.”

  “For now?” Darcy asked.

  “Yeah,” Caitlyn said. “I’m sort of taking things one day at a time with Lucas.”

  “So he still wants to buy the pub?”

  Caitlyn shrugged. “We don’t talk about that.”

  “Don’t you think you should?”

  Out of the mouths of babes. Caitlyn realized she and Lucas were being stupid, cowardly even. They’d let things get way out of hand, and it was past time for them to have a Come to Jesus meeting.

  The problem was her heart. She was completely in love with Lucas, and not quite ready to pay the piper.

  “Yeah, I should.”

  “But…” Darcy prodded.

  “But I’m too afraid to hear his answer.”

  Darcy walked over and h
ugged her. “Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.”

  “Maybe it won’t.”

  It was going to be.

  She rose from the bed and finished packing as Darcy headed back to the kitchen. Grabbing the tote, she headed down the hallway to the living room. She paused a few steps from the entryway when she heard Lucas’s voice.

  “You know, this area is changing, becoming more upscale. Property values are going to skyrocket. Think of how much money you could get for this place.”

  Caitlyn’s chest tightened and her blood began to boil.

  She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and tried to count to ten. It was either that or run into the room and beat the shit out of Lucas Whiting.

  Pop Pop chuckled. “Good Lord, son. Have you seen the size of my family? Even if we did sell for a lot of money, it would become significantly less when divided by eight. Besides, this place is home. There’s no price large enough.”

  “Then perhaps you should consider expanding the business, take on a business partner and look into making Pat’s Irish Pub a franchise.”

  “I’m ninety-two years old, Lucas, and retired. If I’d ever thought of doing something like that, the time to do it has come and gone. Besides, part of the charm of the pub is that it’s family run and operated.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  Caitlyn had heard enough. It was obvious Lucas hadn’t given up his plans to purchase the pub. Caitlyn tossed her tote bag down, leaving it in the hallway.

  “You ready to go?” she asked.

  Lucas stood and nodded. His expression was blank, unreadable. It annoyed her. At least, he could have the human decency to look fucking guilty. “I thought you were grabbing some clothes.”

  “Changed my mind. I have enough things at your place.” Too many things. Things she was going to have to go back and get.

  Lucas reached out and shook Pop Pop’s hand. “It was nice talking to you, Patrick.”

  “You too, Lucas.”

  She walked to the door quickly, anxious to get Lucas out of the apartment, away from her grandfather. Away from her.

  Lucas was quiet as he followed her downstairs. He waved goodbye to her cousins and Tris at the bar, but she kept walking. She needed to get out of here before she exploded, either with anger or into tears. She wasn’t sure what was going to come out, but she couldn’t let it happen in front of her family.

  Once they were outside, she stopped. “I’m spending the night here.”

  His jaw tightened. “You heard me talking to your grandfather.”

  “Why did you come here tonight?”

  “You invited me.”

  “That’s right. I did. I trusted you enough, cared about you enough that I wanted you to meet my family. I wanted them to get to know you, to see that you weren’t the enemy.”

  “You don’t seriously still think I’m—”

  She refused to listen to him protest her description. It was well earned. “So instead of that lame, ‘you invited me’ answer, why don’t you tell me why you really came?”

  “I don’t understand what—”

  “Was it to spy on us? To try to get some deep, dark family secrets from us? To find something you could use against us?”

  Lucas’s eyes narrowed angrily, but he didn’t refute her accusations. Didn’t even try to deny them.

  “Were you trying to get close to Pop Pop, trying to sneak in your offer to buy the pub while the rest of us were out of earshot?”

  “I didn’t offer to buy the pub.”

  “Don’t!” She raised her hand angrily. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

  Lucas ran his hand through his hair, looking frustrated and maybe even a little bit angry. His response enflamed her.

  “I don’t think you understand how many man-hours, how much money has gone into this acquisition. I’ve spent the better part of a year working out the details. We’ve bought the surrounding properties, hired architects and construction crews. You can bury your head in the sand, but this area is going to change. And very soon. That doesn’t have to be a bad thing for your family. My offer is going to be fair, Caitlyn. It’s going to be more than fair. You’re all going to be rich. But none of you will even listen to it.”

  “You don’t get it. I told you the first night we met. Not everyone has a bottom line. Not everything on this fucking planet can be bought and sold according to your whims.”

  “This isn’t a whim.”

  “No. It’s your way of life. And it sucks. Go home, Lucas. Get away from me.”

  “Cait.” He tried to use that dark, commanding tone, but it fell short. Way short. Only making her angrier.

  “Get the fuck away from my pub!”

  Chapter Eleven

  Three days had passed since Caitlyn had told him to leave. It had only taken an hour after driving away from her to realize he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. He’d tossed and turned every single night since then, trying to figure out how to fix things.

  He was up to his neck in this deal at work. Extricating Whiting Properties, giving up on acquiring the pub, would mean a huge financial loss. The building was in the key location as far as their plans went. Without it, their other purchases were worthless. He’d spent eighteen hours at the office on Monday and another seventeen on Tuesday, and he was no closer to figuring out a way to have it all. A way to give up on the pub and still save the deal.

  And unlike Caitlyn, he didn’t have a family that would ever understand someone choosing love over money.

  But that was what he wanted to do. Desperately.

  Jesus. He’d had too much time since Toby’s death to consider what his family’s ambition and wealth had done to others. They’d destroyed too many lives—kicking people out of their homes and taking over more small businesses than he could count. He’d spent the last fifteen years of his life traveling down the same dark path his father had taken, living for his own selfish pleasure with no regard to others.

  Caitlyn was his polar opposite. He’d watched her struggle to help those less fortunate, to keep Moose and the other senior citizens in their homes, to provide legal counsel to protect lower-income families from people like him.

  She’d dedicated her talents to helping people. He used his to destroy lives so he could make a buck or two.

  In just a few short weeks, she’d opened his eyes to a different life. One he didn’t even know existed. He wouldn’t marry a rich man’s daughter, like his father did. He wouldn’t let nannies raise his kids. Rather than continually taking away from people, he wanted to give something back.

  And Caitlyn. He wanted her in his life. As his wife. As the mother of his children.

  He rubbed his eyes wearily as the limo pulled up in front of his building. He’d left work early after a huge blowup with his father. He was running on fumes.

  He thanked his driver when he opened the door, grabbed his briefcase and walked to the entrance.

  “You’re home early, Mr. Whiting,” Royce, the doorman, said.

  Lucas nodded, too tired to engage in conversation.

  “Ms. Wallace beat you here. You two have something fun planned for the afternoon?”

  “Ms. Wallace is here?”

  Royce nodded. “Yes, sir. Arrived about half an hour ago. Hope I didn’t spoil a surprise.”

  “No. No surprise. Thank you.” Lucas forgot about his exhaustion as he picked up the pace, thanking whatever fate was at work that he’d decided to leave work early.

  She was in the living room when he opened the front door, a full bag in her hands. From the look on her face, it was clear she’d intended to pack her stuff and escape while he was at work.

  Caitlyn didn’t seem to be faring much better than him. Her eyes were puffy, red-rimmed, dark shadows betraying her lack of sleep as well.

  “You’re home early,” she said, her voice strangely devoid of emotion.

  “You’ve been crying.”

  She turned her face away from him as she bent down to ret
rieve a pair of her shoes. She’d slipped them off last week after returning home from work before crawling on the couch to cuddle with him. He hadn’t had the heart to move them. Or any of her stuff. He’d left everything exactly where it had been when they’d left here together on Sunday and he’d come home alone. It allowed him to believe she was still living there. That she was simply working late.

  “Don’t leave.” The words fell out before he could call them back.

  She glanced up at him again. “Please, Lucas. Don’t. I just want to get my things and go. I thought you’d be at work, thought I could make this easier for us.”

  No part of this was easy. She knew that as well as he did.

  “Don’t leave,” he repeated.

  “The IRS is auditing the pub. Ewan’s stressing out.”

  Lucas tried to shield his response. He knew about the audit. It was the reason he and his father had engaged in World War III this morning. Tired of waiting for him, Dad had taken up the mantle, intent on making life a living hell for the Collins family until they agreed to sell.

  Her eyes flashed fire. “But of course, you know that.”

  Lucas would make a phone call. Call off the dogs. He was known as the more levelheaded Whiting. While his father barked, Lucas reasoned. He stood a good chance at persuading their man at the IRS to back off. But he didn’t want to make a promise to Caitlyn that he might not be able to keep, so he remained silent.

  “What else is coming?”

  “Nothing.” Lucas had demanded that his father back off, that he leave the pub acquisition to him. It had been an ugly scene, but in the end, his dad agreed. So long as Lucas had the deed to the building in his hands by the end of the week.

  Two days. Two fucking days.

  Caitlyn didn’t appear to believe that, but like him, any fight she might have had left in her was gone. She started toward the bedroom. “I’ll just grab the other bag and go. If you find anything else of mine, pitch it.”

  He followed her, his mind racing over what to do to keep her here. So far he was only coming up with things that would land him in jail. Kidnapping a woman, holding her hostage, tying her to his bed. Forcing her to stay against her will. Every single idea was worse than the one before.