“So, what colour knickers are ya wearing?” Tommy asked me.
“You did not just call me at work to ask me that!” I replied, down the line, absolutely horrified to even be talking about my underwear with a man.
“Jesus baby, I can feel the heat comin’ off your cheeks down the phone. Relax, I was only callin’ to tease you a little. But if you wanted to tell me the colour, I wouldn’t mind havin’ the image to put in my spank bank,” he replied. Utterly horrified, and completely flustered, I hung up on him. Instantly, it vibrated as he called back. Turning it off hastily, I shoved it to the bottom of my bag, just as my name was called.
“Hi Cynthia, it’s lovely to see you,” I said, getting up and holding out my hand to my area supervisor, who happened to be based at another library a few miles away from Custom House. Ignoring it completely, she threw her arms around me and gave me a huge hug.
“It’s wonderful to see you too. I’m so happy you’re okay. We were absolutely beside ourselves when we found out that you’d been involved in the fire. I can’t believe that you’re out and about already. Surely you should still be home, taking it easy?” she asked, releasing me so that I could breathe again.
“Honestly, I’m fine. I have a little bit of a sore throat from the smoke inhalation, but other than that I’m grand, and I’m going stir crazy at home. Thank you so much for the flowers as well. That was so thoughtful of everyone,” I replied. As well as Tommy’s mammoth bouquet, I’d received a colossal delivery from the library service and smaller bunches from individual colleagues. Joe’s living room was starting to resemble a greenhouse, and given that neither of us actually owned a vase, I’d resorted to sitting some of the flowers in water-filled pint glasses. I was baffled as to how people knew to send them to Joe’s, until he explained that he’d spoken to Cynthia when she’d called the hospital and notified her of my change of address.
“Oh, it was the very least we could do. We’re just so happy that you’re okay. From what I heard, the whole place collapsed only seconds after they got you out,” she said, as she ushered me through to her staff room. I was hit with a sudden pang of sadness when I thought of the loss of the place that had been so special to me. Long before I managed to land a job there, Custom House library had been a haven. A salvation through my childhood, allowing me to escape inside the pages of endless adventure and intrigue. And now it was nothing but charcoal and dust.
“Is it okay, being in here? I’m so sorry, I’m afraid I didn’t think,” Cynthia said, starting to rise from the chair she’d sat down in.
“It’s totally fine,” I replied, motioning back. “Your staff room is nothing like ours was. It has windows to the outside for one. And, to be honest, I find it quite comforting being back in the library.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it. After what you went though, I wouldn’t be surprised if the place gave you some anxiety. But don’t feel you need to rush back to work. Nobody is expecting you to come back any time soon, if you want to come back at all,” she said.
“Well,” I replied, my hands twisting nervously. “I was hoping you could tell me whether I still have a job to come back to. I mean, with my library burning down and all, I’ve been a bit concerned about what will happen now.”
“Oh dear. I had no idea you’d be worrying so much about it or I’d have contacted you sooner. Honestly, I thought you’d still be recovering and that coming back to work would be the last thing on your mind. But I’ve spoken with the Council, and rest assured, you’ll be receiving full pay during your sick leave, and once you feel ready to return, you’ll be temporarily re-assigned to another library until Custom House can be re-built,” she explained.
“It’s being rebuilt!” I exclaimed, shocked, and so relieved, I felt like a huge weight had lifted off my shoulders. I wasn’t lying to Joe when I said that I loved being a librarian. Getting to work with my beloved books as well as the public made me feel like an important part of the community. I was as devastated about the idea of losing my job as I was about losing the library.
“Of course! The fire investigators and the loss adjustors are still looking at the scene, but once they’ve finished, the insurance company will pay for the re-build. It was scheduled for renovation under the Canning Town Rejuvenation Project anyway, so I would imagine they’ll just build in accordance with those plans only much sooner than they anticipated,” she said. I knew about the Rejuvenation Project but had no idea that the library was to be part of it. I guessed it didn’t really matter now, and if it meant the rebuilding was quicker for it, then so much the better.
“You’ve no idea how happy you’ve made me. And if it’s all the same with you, I’d like to come back to work as soon as possible. Also, I have a new telephone number,” I explained.
“Leave it with me and I’ll sort it out for you. I’ve already been in touch with the other staff and explained that it will two weeks before they’re re-posted while we have a shuffle around, so I imagine it’ll be the same for you as well. I’ll let you know as soon as I have details of your shifts and your temporary posting, but in the meantime, enjoy the time off. It’s pay day tomorrow. Go and get your nails done, or do something frivolous you wouldn’t usually have the time for,” she suggested.
“Actually, my library card was destroyed in the fire. If you wouldn’t mind issuing me a new one, there’s a few books I wouldn’t mind borrowing while I’m here,” I said, excited at the thought of having a stack of books and nothing but peace and quiet to read them.
“Don’t ever change, Evelyn,” she replied, laughing.
“What did you mean by ‘I can’t believe you called me at work’? Tommy asked, scaring the absolute stuffing out of me.
“Good Lord, you frightened the life out of me! What on earth are you doing, loitering around in the dark like some kind of creeper?” I shouted, still shaken from the scare he’d given me. It wasn’t that late, so I’d taken a bus home and walked from the bus stop to Joe’s flat, where Tommy emerged unexpectedly from the shadow of the building.
“I was waiting for you. And what are you doin’ walkin’ round on your own in the dark? What if I had been a creepy murderin’ rapist? You could be tied up, shoved in the back of a car and half way to some sicko’s torture chamber and nobody would be any the wiser! There’s no light in this car park and no CCTV cameras. Your phone is switched off, and has been for bloody hours, and I bet you don’t even have so much as a bleedin’ rape alarm on ya!” he argued.
“No, but I have some really scary, heavy library books,” I replied, holding up my bag as evidence. “And to answer your question, I was seeing my supervisor about when I could go back to work and I guess I forgot to turn the phone back on when I was done.”
“Yeah, fuckin’ terrifyin’ weapon ya have there to defend yourself,” he said, rolling his eyes at my idiocy.
“Maybe not, but I don’t think I’m in any danger. It’s dark because it’s winter, but it’s only six o’clock. I’m pretty sure the murderin’ rapists don’t come out until after eight,” I was being flippant to make him smile, but the genuine worry in his voice, warmed something deep inside of me. It was the delicious feeling of being cared for.
“Sorry to burst ya’ bubble baby, but murderin’ rapists pick and choose their own hours. Now explain to me why I spent good money for a phone that’s never on,” he said, relieving me of my heavy bag, and walking with me up the three flights of external stairs to get to Joe’s flat.
“Let me give you the money for the phone,” I pleaded. I never intended to keep it, but when he left it behind, I gave into the lure of the shiny box. Within ten minutes of charging it, a text from Tommy had arrived and he hadn’t let up since.
“Fine, I’ll take payment in kind,” he agreed.
“I’m not the sort of girl who’ll be paying for things with her body. If that’s the kind of person you take me for, I’m afraid you don’t know me at all. Now, I suggest you leave, and you can take your bloody mobile phone with you
,” I hissed, utterly humiliated and absolutely furious that he would say something like that, when I’d honestly been giving serious thought to the idea of the two of us dating.
“Hold ya’ horses, baby. I never mentioned anything about what kind of payment I was after did I? If you’d given me half a chance, I would’ve asked you for a date. Seems to me that you’re the one whose dirty mind ran straight to sex,” he replied, shocking me into absolute silence.
“I…I’m sorry. I don’t know what it is about you, but you bring out the absolute worst in me,” I said.
“So it’s my fault you were mean!” he teased, making me even more flustered. “Well for that, my price just went up.”
“By how much?” I asked, suspiciously.
“Two dates. And I’ll even make sure we’re chaperoned on both of ’em seeing as your thoughts keep driftin’ towards the edge of dirty whenever we’re alone,” he replied.
I rolled my eyes at his implication that I was some sort of sex-crazed nymphomaniac around him. But he was closer to the mark than he realised. Tommy Riordon had a power over me that no other man I’d ever met had. He wasn’t a giant powerhouse like his friends. No, he was infinitely hotter. Disappointingly, the cap and hoodie he was wearing hid most of what I knew was underneath. A lean, sculpted torso. Biceps, tight and cut and so gloriously perfect I wanted to touch them every time I saw him in a t-shirt.
Every. Single. Time.
Intricate tattoos spanned the length of both arms, all the way to the back of his hands. I shivered when I thought about how it might feel, to have those tanned, calloused fingers drift across my skin. Desperate to hide the fact that I was ogling him, my eyes jumped to his face. You could say that once you got past his smart mouth, his looks were the obvious reason he was so attractive, but you’d be wrong. That smart, filthy mouth of his spoke words like they were honey. Sweet, sticky and delicious. That’s how he made women feel with his endless Irish charm. I would’ve scoffed at all the girls who fell at his feet, if only I’d been immune. But I wasn’t. I was a good girl with a weakness for a bad boy. The only difference between me and them, was my willingness to fight the urge. My refusal to be one of a meaningless number.
Shifting his weight, he stared at me from beneath the peak of his baseball cap. A year ago, his shaggy hair, that used to curl a little at the ends, would’ve hung around his ears, but he’d had it all buzzed off in rehab, and kept it that way. It made him look a little harder. Edgier. A little more dangerous.
And I liked it.
“Where would we be going on these dates of yours?” I asked, curious but a tiny bit disappointed he’d suggested that we’d be chaperoned. He smiled, like he was sure he had me.
“Well, some of the guys are going out to the pub tonight, including your brother. I thought it might be nice for you to come and meet some of my friends,” he said.
“I could do that,” I agreed, comforted by the fact that Joe would be there for moral support. “What about the second date?” He winced slightly at my question, which didn’t bode well for what he had in store.
“Dinner with me Ma and Da,” he said.
“Tommy, I see your parents probably more than I see you,” I pointed out to him, both of them being regulars at Father Pat’s Sunday service.
“Just humour me, would ya?” he said, his eyes running over me in a way that made me feel like he was undressing me in his head.
“Alright then,” I agreed. “But I’ve got a condition of my own.” Stepping towards him, and ignoring the delicious scent of his subtle, addictive aftershave, I whispered into his ear. When I stepped back, I couldn’t help but giggle at the priceless look on his face.
“Fuck me. You have got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” he said.
Chapter Nine
TOMMY
I felt fifteen years old, knockin’ at the door for Evie, and there was no way the teenage punk me had ever been as nervous as I was just then. A real date was my first move out of the friend zone, but we both knew she’d use any reason to push me back there. She was skittish and shy, and I was the exact opposite of the man she thought she wanted. But she’d learn soon enough that I wasn’t going anywhere. I was in this for the long haul.
I wanted the girl who made my palms sweat, and my heart beat faster. The girl who made my gut clench with nervous anticipation every time I saw her.
Every. Fuckin’. Time.
She was so sweet and beautiful, it almost hurt to be around her. It was like knowin’ she was made just for me and that I’d never be able to earn the right to call her mine. A better man might’ve walked away. Left her to the kind of boring life and bland asshole she thought she wanted. But that man wasn’t me.
I’d never wear a tie and sit in an office. My ink would never disappear and my knuckles would likely always be rough and cracked from fighting. My hair and skin would always carry the scent of smoke from fightin’ fires that no amount of showering would wash out. I was the rough to her smooth, the dirty to her clean, the sinful to her pure. But fuck, when I saw her, I saw the man I could be. I saw the way her eyes softened when she forgot she hated me. And the night we first met, I saw the future I could have with her in it. I was a selfish bastard. A fighter who’d never found anything worth fighting for.
Until now.
She opened the door and, I shit you not, the air crackled between us, and the light behind her shone out like a halo.
“You look beautiful, darlin’,” I said, meaning every word. I’d never seen her in anything form fitting, but the skinny jeans illuminated the rockin’ figure she’d been hiding underneath all those baggy clothes. Her dark green sweater wasn’t exactly off the shoulder, but it teased with the promise of the skin it concealed, and I put my faith in the forces of gravity exposing more of it before the night was through.
“Thank you,” she replied, slightly breathlessly. “Why are you staring at my collar bone?”
“Because it’s the sexiest collar bone I’ve ever seen and I was wondering how soft your skin would be if I kissed my way from there to your shoulder and back again,” I told her honestly.
“You can’t say things like that!” she protested.
“Why not?” I asked. I didn’t go along with the idea of playin’ games. Not with Evie. There’d be no muddy water between us. Not now or ever. If she wanted to know what I was thinkin’, or something about me, I’d tell her the truth, because there’d always be someone out there willing to tell their version of it for me.
“It’s just not... proper,” she replied, stumbling for the right word. I chuckled.
“Baby, there ain’t nothin’ about me that’s proper. Now are you gonna be warm enough? I’m drivin’, but it’s pretty cold out tonight,” I said, throwing her for a loop. I’d riled her up a little and then changed the subject, and she had no idea whether to keep telling me off or go with the flow.
“I’ll get my coat,” she said, finally.
“Can I get a lift too?” Joe asked, popping his head around the door.
“Fine, but you’re in the back,” I replied, pissed off, but resigned to the fact that any alone time I might get with Evie tonight was over. Having everyone else join us was a calculated move. Deep down, I knew she didn’t believe that two people as different as we were could ever work. It was bollocks, but she needed a distraction that gave us time together to let it work. I wasn’t a patient man. But I would be.
For her.
Seamus O’Donnell’s was packed, which was usual for a Saturday night.
“Tommy!” Kieran shouted, and waved to us from the back of the pub. He and Marie, Liam, Albie and Earnshaw were already there and had joined two tables together for us all to sit round.
“Lads, this is Evelyn, Joe’s sister, and Evie, this is Kieran, Marie, Liam, Albie and Earnshaw,” I said, introducing them all. My arm rested on her waist in a way that let the guys know she was with me, as if they didn’t know already. After they’d all said hi, Evie slid into the seat next to Marie, and
leaning on the table, I bent down and talked into her ear so she could hear me over the noise.
“What can I get you to drink darlin’?” I asked. Her face flushed red as my breath slid across her cheek.
“Um, may I have a lemonade please?” she asked, so politely that I was half way hard before she finished her sentence.
“Do you know how fuckin’ sexy your manners are baby?” I asked her, chuckling at her embarrassment at the compliment. “Are you sure you don’t want anything a little stronger? I promise I’ll take care of you. I’m not drinkin’ tonight.”
She bit her lip as she looked around at what everyone else was drinking.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, seeing the confused, slightly anxious expression on her face.
“I’m not sure what I’d like the taste of,” she replied. With any other girl I’d suggest that she might like a taste of me. And with any other girl, a line like that would’ve worked. If I tried it on Evie, she’d likely slap me for being crude and disrespecting her. Fuck if the woman wasn’t already training me to be better behaved.
“Leave it with me, baby,” I said. “I got this.” Placing a quick kiss on her cheek, much to Marie’s amusement, I took drinks orders from the rest of the guys and headed to the bar. Fifteen minutes later I muscled my way back to the table with a full tray, and found that Con and Em had joined us. Evie was now wedged between the girls and looked happier than I’d ever seen her. I handed out the drinks then put four down in front of Evie.
“What are they?” she asked.
“Beer, vodka, lime and soda, and some fruity cocktail shit I thought you might like. Give each of them a go and see which one you like the taste of best, then stick with that for the rest of the night. Don’t mix your drinks if you’re not used to alcohol, or you’ll be rough tomorrow,” I replied, pulling out a stool and sitting down next to the guys. I’d have preferred to be sitting with Evie and holding hands with my girl, but it felt good to watch her bond and make new friends.
The Fire (Hurricane Book 4) Page 8