The Fire (Hurricane Book 4)

by R. J. Prescott

  “Nah. I think I’ll stick around here for a bit. I can always pop in later,” he replied. I hoped she’d argue with him so we’d get some alone time, but she just nodded again. Maybe I’d struck her dumb as well.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked me, peering around from behind her brother. Her husky voice, still a little raspy from the fire.

  “That’d be great. Thank you,” I said, and followed her into the kitchen where I could finally talk to her alone.

  “You got my flowers then,” I said, noticing the enormous bunch stood in a jug on the counter.

  “They’re beautiful, thank you. It was very kind of you to think of me,” she replied, in the cutest way that was so prim and proper.

  “I got you this too,” I said, taking the box out of the carrier bag I was holding and handing it to her.

  “Tommy!” she answered, clearly shocked. “You can’t give me this. It’s far too much money. The flowers were really generous, but this is over the top. And I don’t need of a mobile phone.” She handed it back to me.

  “Phones like that cost next to nothing these days, and if you have a phone, it means that I can call you,” I replied, returning it to her.

  “And why would you be calling me? I’d like to thank you for saving my life, and for the beautiful flowers. But that aside, I have no desire to have any telephone number of mine appear in your little black book,” she said.

  “I don’t have a little black book,” I pointed out. “I keep all my numbers in the contact list on my phone.”

  “You know what I mean. You’ve probably got hundreds of willing women ready to drop their knickers the minute they hear your ring tone. Well, I’ll not be one of those girls. The box hasn’t been opened, so I’m sure you’ll be able to get a full refund when you return it to the store,” she said, giving it back to me. It was like some bizarre game of pass the parcel, and I had the feeling that whoever was left holding the package when the argument stopped would be the one to lose.

  “It’s not like that Evie. I don’t care about other girls anymore. Yours is the only number I need now,” I explained.

  “Just like that!” she said, clicking her fingers. “Years of womanizing and I’m supposed to believe that you’ve had some sort of overnight epiphany and now I’m the only one for you! I don’t know if you hit your head in that fire, but you and I are not a good fit. I don’t wish to seem ungracious after everything you’ve done for me. Not just saving my life, but for coming with me to the hospital and staying with me. After our rather embarrassing encounter, I’ll admit I’ve avoided you. But I hope that we can put that behind us and be cordial, maybe one day even friends. But that’s it,” she said, folding her hands primly in front of her. I don’t know what it was about me that ignited a fire in her, but when she argued with me, she was a fuckin’ goddess.

  “No,” I replied, taking a step closer to her.

  “No to being cordial, or no to being friends?” she asked. I took another step closer and like prey sensing a predator, she took a cautious step backwards.

  “No to all of it,” I replied. When she could go back no further, I rested my arms either side of her on the kitchen counter, trapping her in my arms. “I want it all Evie. A proper relationship. You and me. And I want you to make a real go of it with me.”

  “If you put those over-used lips anywhere near me, so help me God, Thomas Riordon, I will knee you so hard, you’ll be cryin’ for a week,” she warned, her accent sounding even more Irish, the more agitated she became.

  As soon as she said my full name, something miraculous happened. My cock twitched. My beautiful, magical cock, that’d made so many women so very happy, had been broken since the accident. When I’d mentioned it to the doctor, he seemed sure that it was a psychological, rather than medical, reaction to the stress of the event and suggested counselling. I took his advice and counselled myself with baby oil and as much porn as I could get my hands on. Nothing had worked. For months, in the promised land south of the equator, I’d been as limp as a wet noodle.

  Until Evelyn.

  “Say it again?” I begged.

  “What?” she asked, in confusion.

  “My full name,” I replied, so close that I could smell her with every breath I took.

  “Thomas Riordon,” she said, looking bewildered. I groaned and rested my forehead on her shoulder as I battled to control the first erection I’d had in over a year.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, her palms resting on my chest, either to push me away or steady me.

  “Uh huh,” I muttered. The heat of her hands through my t-shirt was making me even harder, and when she whispered “Thomas?” into my ear, her confusion obvious, I almost shot my load.

  “You know, I think I’m gonna skip the tea if you don’t mind,” I said, my voice so high pitched I sounded like a fucking choir boy.

  “Okay…are you sure you’re alright?” she asked.

  “Absolutely fine,” I replied backing away, desperate to make my getaway before I humiliated myself. Evie was naive enough that she might not understand what was happening, but there was no way I was walking out past her brother with a cum stain on the front of my jeans. She led me to the front door and showed me out.

  “Well, thank you again. For everything,” she said, her cheeks flushed from our kitchen encounter.

  “I’ll see you soon Evie. And do me a favour?” I asked.

  “What is it?” she replied.

  “Charge your phone? I’ve got your new number, so I’ll call you on it later,” I said. Her face turned to thunder as she realised that I’d left it in the house, and I chuckled as the door slammed shut behind me.

  “I’m getting married,” I announced, halfway through a sparring session with Con.

  “Say what now?” Kieran said. Con, stopped, stock-still in shock, and dropped his guard. Using the rare opening to my advantage, I stepped in and smacked him upside the face with a great combination.

  “Mother fucker!” Con raged, and came steaming at me.

  “Ah, keep your panty hose on champion. I barely tapped you and your head guard took most of the damage. You’ll still be plenty pretty for your blind wife,” I taunted him, pissing him off even further. I hadn’t slept since coming off shift, but I had masturbated.

  Twice.

  I was more than a little bouncy and wired, and so happy that my tackle was back in commission, I felt like fuckin’ superman. I was so proud of myself for getting the drop on Con, I didn’t see Kieran on my blind side until it was too late. The fucker rugby tackled me to the canvas, then, I shit you not Con sat on me, like a fuckin’ five-year-old.

  “Get the fuck off me, ya fat edjit! Now I know where little D gets it from,” I said, wheezing from the weight on my chest.

  “Call my boy fat one more time, I fuckin’ dare ya,” Con warned.

  “I’m pinching the skin under his arms till he tells me what he’s jabbering on about,” Kier warned.

  “Emmmmmmm!” I screamed, as loud as I could before I ran out of air.

  “Why would you use a dick move like that when you could just punch him?” Con asked Kier, looking slightly horrified that Kier might be goin’ soft.

  “You ever had the skin under your arms pinched? It hurts like a son of a bitch. Irish tried it on me once when I accidentally on purpose flicked her with a tea towel. It’s no joke. I legit cried,” Kier explained.

  “Pussy,” Con said to Kier, chuckling. Kier responded by pushing Con off me and rolling round on the canvas as he tried pinching Con. He wasn’t lying about that under the arm shit. He’d done it on me before and it fuckin’ hurt.

  “Jesus effing Christ! This is a professional boxing gymnasium, not an effin’ crèche! Did you plan on doin’ any training today, or did you forget that you have a title defence comin’ up? Now if you can’t be trusted to spar, you can get down here and give me a hundred one handed push ups and an hour of bag work,” Danny ordered, in a loud whisper. Baby Jack was comfortably
asleep on his chest, his mouth slightly parted as he drooled on Danny’s shoulder, grossing me out. I’d swapped bodily fluids with countless women, but there was something freaky about baby drool that turned my stomach.

  The kids spent so much time at the gym, mainly with Danny and Em as we trained, that Em had banned Danny from swearing in front of them. She’d also banned him from smoking in the gym. The pint sized warrior who never raised her voice, was literally the only one capable of making the old man do anything. It would be kinda comical, if it weren’t for the fact that his inability to chain smoke had made Danny super fucking grouchy. If he so much as farted these days, we jumped a mile. He was the exact opposite with the kids mind. Like a baby whisperer he was. No matter how much they screamed, he’d lay ’em across his shoulder, whisper some Irish in their ear, and bam! Instant silence. Even Kier’s dopey dog, Driscoll, loved him. Of course the fact that Danny was constantly feeding him probably had something to do with it. If it wasn’t for Con and Kier taking him out on all of their runs, that dog would probably be as big as a house by now.

  “What are ya waitin’ for, a gold plated invitation? Move, now ya lazy feckers!” Danny whispered, and we all jumped in fear.

  “Danny,” Em admonished, gently. He mumbled something about how he should be able to say what he wanted in his own gym that made Em smile. Con blew a raspberry on Little D’s cheek, making him giggle, kissed his wife in a way that probably should be saved for the bedroom, and started on his press ups. The minute I got near Little D, he threw himself into my arms like I knew he would.

  “Hey buddy. You like me more than ya Da, huh?” I said to the baby.

  “Don’t flatter yourself arsewipe. He’s just happy he has a friend with the same mental age,” Con replied, smiling smugly.

  “O’Connell!” Em, said telling him off for the bad language. Not even the slightest bit breathless from Danny’s punishment, he just blew his wife a kiss and carried on.

  “I don’t know why you stress so much about the swearin’,” I said. “If his first word isn’t edjit, fuck or shite, is he even fuckin’ Irish?” A smack to the back of the head and a scowl was all the answer I got.

  “Hey,” I protested, rubbing my non-existent injury. Seriously, I reckon Little D could hit harder than Em could. I loved how she was trying to raise her little man, but that boy was born of Driscoll’s. He and Jack both were. By the time they were seven, they’d be little versions of Con and Kier and then God help us all.

  “Tommy’s getting married,” Kier, said, and Em’s jaw dropped in shock.

  “Seriously! Tommy, I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone,” Em replied, squealing with excitement.

  “I’m not. Not yet at least, but I’m working on it,” I explained.

  “So what? You’re going to kidnap her and elope? I pretty much figured that’d be the only way you’d find a wife,” Con said, chuckling at his own joke.

  “As opposed to nagging her into dating me, ya mean?” I replied, looking deliberately between him and Em.

  “That’s not how it happened, is it baby?” Con said, pissed now that I’d implied his hooking up with Em had been anything other than a fairy tale.

  “It was the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me,” Em reassured him, and he gave me the finger, not faltering in his press ups as he continued with one hand. I rolled my eyes at the pair of sappy buggers, making Em smile.

  “So who is she?” Em asked. “She must be someone pretty special to catch your eye.”

  I loved that she thought that. The boys might give me shit over this, but Em was the one I wanted to share my excitement with. She was the little sister I never had.

  “You know big Joe?” I asked.

  “You mean the Joe that trains here?” she replied.

  “Yeah. It’s his little sister Evelyn,” I told her.

  “Wait. I know Evelyn. I mean, I don’t know her, but I think I’ve seen her with Joe a couple of times. She has beautiful, long red hair, right?” Em asked.

  “Holy. Fucking. Shit,” Kier said. “I know exactly who she is. Do you mean to tell me that out of all the single, available pussy in London, you’ve taken a fancy to the only church-going Irish virgin this side of the Irish Sea!” Kier was laughing, but the no-one else was. Whether it was shock as they figured out who Evelyn was, or because of the look on my face, I didn’t know, but I hadn’t felt as angry as I did in that moment for a long time.

  “I love you like a brother, but if I ever hear you talk that way about her again, you and me are gonna have a problem. Understand?” I said, quietly and calmly to Kier, so he understood that the baby in my arms was the only reason he wasn’t nursing a bruised jaw.

  “Shit Tom, I’m sorry man. I didn’t mean any disrespect. It’s just, of all the girls you could’ve gone for, never in a million years did I think it would be someone like her,” he explained, and Em winced, seeing he was digging a deeper hole for himself.

  “You don’t think I know we’re different? You don’t think I know I don’t deserve her? I know! But she’s an amazing person who thinks about everyone else before herself and she doesn’t need you or anyone else talkin’ like that about her. If you can’t be respectful, shut the fuck up,” I replied, and I must’ve surprised ’em because Em didn’t tell me off once for the cursing.

  “We’re excited to meet her properly,” Em said, with a reassuring smile, breaking the tension between us.

  “Why’d do say you were marryin’ her if you’re not even dating?” Con asked, clearly unfazed by my outburst.

  “When you know, you know,” I replied, with a shrug. He stopped exercising and looked at me seriously.

  “That you do,” he replied.

  Chapter Eight

  EVELYN

  “I think you and I need to have a chat, little sis,” Joe said, ominously. I finished folding the towel I’d taken from the drying rack and sat down on the chair opposite him, worried about the serious look on his face.

  “What have I done?” I asked, nervously.

  “Exactly what you were just doing,” he replied, pointing to the stack of folded washing.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I just thought that, while I’m here, I might as well make myself useful.”

  “You don’t need to look after me Ev. I’ve been living on my own since I was eighteen. You’ve spent a long time looking after other people, and I want you to take some time just for yourself,” he replied.

  “But I like taking care of people. And I’ll go crazy if I just sit around anymore,” I protested. My voice still had that gravelly huskiness that made it sound like I’d strained my vocal chords, and until it went, Joe was going to be on my case about taking it easy.

  “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I don’t want you replacing Ma with me,” he said.

  “What d’you mean?” I asked, in confusion.

  “I mean, you looked after Ma and Da for a long time. You didn’t allow yourself to have any goals or aspirations beyond being there for them, and I don’t want you takin’ care of me, or this place, as a way of putting off those things. God gave you one life Ev. I want to make sure you’re living it to the full,” he explained. I loved my big brother for his worry, and I knew he felt guilty for not realising what Ma had been doing, but no part of that was on him.

  “I do want to pull my weight around here,” I replied. “You won’t take any rent from me, so it seems the very least I can do. But despite what you think, I was living the life I wanted to lead to some extent. I mean, I had a job I loved at the library, great friends, and I love my volunteer work. The only thing I missed was having the financial means and the flexibility to be able to stretch my wings. You know, stay out late, make spontaneous plans with friends, maybe even go on a date.”

  “I’m glad, Ev,” he answered, looking a little happier. “So…dating, huh?”

  “What, like you don’t date?” I teased, raising my eyebrow playfully.

  “I have a series of
meaningless hook-ups. I wouldn’t call that dating,” he replied.

  “I don’t get why you would do that,” I said. “Surely a relationship would be so much more rewarding.”

  “Because sex is awesome Ev. Relationships take work, and I’m lazy,” he explained.

  “TMI,” I said, squirming. “I do not need thoughts of my big brother having sex in my head.”

  “Speaking of meaningless sex, how’re things going with Tommy Riordon?” he asked, and I let out a huge, frustrated sigh.

  “Never in my life have I met someone as obstinate and frustrating as Thomas Riordon. He is completely relentless! He’s also crude and vulgar, but then he can be so kind and ridiculously sweet. He confuses me and infuriates me, and I have absolutely no idea how to deal with him!” I replied, getting completely flustered just thinking about him.

  “You know, he drives me nuts as well, but seeing you so worked up makes me think he’s good for you. He’s crazy enough to make you wild, and you’re calm enough to make him tame. Maybe when you meet in the middle, you can both pretend you have a normal relationship,” he suggested, and I laughed out loud.

  “Never in a million years could Tommy and I have anything that remotely resembles a normal relationship,” I replied. “But he is beginning to wear me down. Maybe if I caved and went on a date with him, he’ll realise how boring I am and give up on me.”

  “Or he’ll realise he was right all along and that you’re a feckin’ rare catch, and then you’ll never be rid of him,” he replied.

  “Can you imagine Ma’s face if I started courting him?” I said, quietly, knowing that she’d likely spit on me in church for being with someone like Tommy.

  “Ev, I ain’t sayin’ it’s easy. But have the courage to be your own person. Don’t ever decide whether or not to like someone, or date someone based on someone else’s opinion. The only person who knows whether he’s right for you, is you,” he replied.

  I wished that I could be as confident and as self-assured as Joe, but I was working on it. One baby step at a time.