I put both hands on the glass window at the side of the front door and peeked in. At first, I didn’t see anything to warrant concern. But my mind went into overdrive when I ran over to the other window and looked in. Rachel and an old man crumpled in a heap over the bar as a dirty rag hung off her shoulder.
I tried the door with the key that I had in my possession, but something was blocking my entrance. Fuck. Had someone locked the damn doors from the inside? I felt my blood boiling as my mind spun into overdrive. I started thinking about all the ways I could get in from the side entryway while I tried to figure out what was in my way. But once I crouched down I saw there was someone else. Someone slumped against the glass door on the floor.
Holy shit.
Philomena was in my bar.
Without thinking, I ran to the side and picked up a trash can. And before the sirens got any closer, I heaved it with everything I had into the window next to the door. The resounding crash and explosion of glass had me leaping into the fray with a handkerchief over my mouth and my heart thundering a thousand miles a second.
The old man was stirring, but his arms twitched. Like he didn’t have control of his body. My instinct to go after Philomena first was fighting against my good sense and judgment. I took a deep breath and decided the old man was likely in the most danger, but everything in my mind screamed to run to her first.
To scoop her in my arms first.
I looked around to figure out what the fuck was going on, and that was when I saw it. Philomena’s body wasn’t the only thing blocking my path. There was something wrapped around the handles of the damn door. A thick, wrought iron chain with a massive padlock to keep the doors from budging even a fucking inch.
Whoever did this had been out to kill.
I picked up the man’s frail body and put it over my shoulder. But I kept my eye on Philomena. Her body slumped against the glass door with her hand pressed against it. Like she had been calling out to someone. Trying to get out the second she knew something was wrong.
It shattered my heart, seeing her that way.
I climbed through the window with the old man and passed him off to the paramedics. I saw police officers at the window looking confused and holding the butt of their guns. I ran back up to the window and went to hop inside, but a man put his hand on my shoulder and wrenched me away.
Like he thought he could keep me from my damn bar.
“There’s a gas leak,” I said. “The fire department is on their way, but I’m not sure they’re going to get here in time to save everybody. Take that man and get him as far away from this place as you can. I’m going back in for the others. I could really use some help when you guys stop fondling the ass of your guns.”
“How many are in there?” one of the officers asked.
A young man. No more than twenty-four, twenty-five years old. Stepping up to the plate while a bunch of old, fat assholes stood around looking at one another like they didn’t speak fucking English.
“There’s a woman slumped over at the bar. Get her and get out. I’ve got the woman at the door,” I said.
“What about the back rooms?” the officer asked.
“Right now, let’s deal with who we can see.”
The officer hopped through first and headed straight for the bar with his arm around his face. And me? I went to Philomena immediately. But the palor of her skin had me worried. I placed the handkerchief to my face and held my hand against her nose, checking to see if she was still breathing. It was faint. So faint I thought I was imagining it. So, I placed two of my fingers against her pulse.
It was weak. But it was there.
I had no idea why Philomena had come to my place of business, but I had a feeling it had something to do with the constant failure of finding me a place. And suddenly, guilt washed over my system. I reached for her body and scooped her up into my arms, listening as the officer struggled to get Rachel out the window. Paramedics lined up to pass people down a line while the fire truck pulled up. I passed Philomena through the window before helping the officer through, then I jumped for it and landed onto the pavement.
The paramedics began administering first aid and oxygen to the victims. The old man had already been taken to a nearby facility for evaluation because of his age and an apparent heart condition they had come across. I watched as Rachel responded quickly, looking around as if she didn’t know where she was. I strode over to her and smoothed her hair from her forehead, watching as visible distress dripped over her vision.
“It’s okay,” I said. “You’re fine. Breathe deeply, Rachel. It’s just an oxygen mask.”
I watched in my peripheral as the fire department got into Galway Bay via the front door while wearing protective gear. They made their way through and cleared the building, shouting out to their comrades occasionally. All the lights were disorienting as horns shouted out. They finally managed to find the gas and turn it off for the entire building.
An errant match or spark could have lit up the entire fucking place.
I left Rachel’s side the second another paramedic walked over to Philomena’s side. She wasn’t moving, and I saw the look of concern on their faces. I strode over to her, peeking over their shoulders while struggle to revive Philomena.
Her body, lifeless.
Her skin, pale.
“Come on,” I said underneath my breath. “Wake up.”
They pumped her chest and put another oxygen mask over her face. Her body jumped with every pump of the paramedic’s hands. My fists clenched. My heart stopped. If someone killed this woman, I wouldn’t stop until every single one of their sorry asses—
“We got her!”
“I need a gurney!”
“She needs a hospital. Now.”
Philomena gasped, and her eyes flew wide open. She blinked, and soon her limbs began to flail. Weak little movements that grew with her agitation. I moved one of the paramedics out of the way and bent down to take her hand, holding it within mine before bringing it to my lips.
Her eyes panned over to me, her gaze falling heavily onto mine before her movements calmed down.
“We’re going to transport her to the hospital,” the paramedic said. “You can ride with us, but I’m sure the fire department and the police are going to have some questions for you.”
“This a good time?”
I turned around and saw the fire chief standing there. I recognized him as the regular patron who ordered ‘a whiskey double with cherries sunk to the bottom’. A disgusting drink, but one he got every time he came into the bar.
“You look familiar,” I said with a grin.
“I’ll make this quick, so you can get on to the hospital,” he said. “In short, there’s nothing more that we can do here for now. I’m officially turning this over to the police to investigate. My findings aren’t official yet, but when I found the gas leak and shut it off, I did a little bit of looking. That gas line was sliced on purpose, Mr. Walsh.”
“Purpose,” I said.
“Yep. That cut was clean as a whistle. Too clean to be anything else.”
“Your next double whiskey with sunken cherries is on me. Once I can get this place reopened,” I said.
“It’s good to hear you say you will. This is my favorite spot when the wife and I argue.”
“I appreciate your business, your support, and your help,” I said.
“Just give a quick statement to the police. It’s standard procedure. Then you can go and be wherever you need to go and be.”
And that was exactly what I did.
Chapter Eleven
Philomena
“You really don’t have to stay,” I said. “Bed rest at home. That’s all the doctor said I needed.”
“My mother raised me to be a good Catholic boy,” Liam said. “What would she say if I left you to fend for yourself when what happened was my fault?”
“I was under the impression that she was in Ireland. You can’t possibly make me believe s
he’s spying on you from thousands of miles away,” I said.
Liam had an apron over his shoulder and a wooden spoon in his hand, his lips tasting whatever he was concocting in my kitchen. I sat in a chair, my hair pulled back from my face and a blanket wrapped around my body.
“Not so loud,” he said with a whisper. “She has spies everywhere.”
I shook my head as his phone began to ring, but it was the shock in his eyes that clued me in on who it was. He left the kitchen and went down the hall, pacing back and forth. I couldn’t hear what he was saying on the phone, but I knew it could only be one person to warrant such a reaction.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have said her name too loud,” Liam said. “That was my mother.”
“And what did this all-knowing woman have to say for herself?” I asked.
“She told me she had a feeling that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.”
“She did not.”
“She did. I’m hoping I was convincing enough to stop her from hopping the first flight back to Boston. Last time that happened, she came without warning and didn’t leave for a month.”
Whatever he was cooking, the tantalizing spices had my mouth watering. I hadn’t had a bite to eat in fourteen hours and I was hungry to see what was on the menu. I got up gingerly to go see what he was cooking, but he spotted me from where he was standing behind the black marble island.
“Sit down,” Liam said.
“I feel bad that I’m not helping you.”
But the second I took a step forward, a dizziness overcame me. I felt faint. Weak. Clammy. I closed my eyes and wobbled on my feet. A pair of strong hands came down onto my shoulders and sank me right back into my chair.
I drew in a deep breath as that same pair of hands tucked my blanket back around my legs.
“That’s what you get for not obeying doctor’s orders. You are a whirlwind, Philomena Wright. Now keep your ass in that seat.”
“I would like to change into something a little less constricting, if you don’t mind.”
“I’m sure I can find something for you to wear without you exerting yourself,” he said.
“You’re not digging through my underwear drawer.”
“Someone need a change in panties?”
My eyes flew open and I glared at him. But that playful stare of his quickly wore down my walls. I sighed and nodded my head, then he came over and helped me up from the kitchen chair. He escorted me to the couch and sat me down, making sure to cover me well in my blanket. It was a side of Liam I would never have known to exist. A nurturing, caring side of him that genuinely felt responsible for what had happened to me. But I was too tired to pick it apart. Too tired to question it. All I knew was that my yoga pants and tank top were no longer cutting it in terms of comfort.
Then, he backtracked down the hallway and pushed into my bedroom.
“Seriously. My underwear drawer isn’t for the faint of heart,” I said as I listened to drawers opening and closing.
“I’m sure there’s nothing here that I haven’t see—”
I shook my head as I turned around, watching him slowly come out of my bedroom. Dangling from one of his fingers was a pair of authority-grade handcuffs and laid out in his massive palm were two packages of edible panties.
“Told you,” I said.
“I was looking in your pajama drawer,” Liam said flatly.
“Whoops. So that’s where those got off to.”
“I might have to change my opinion of you, Miss Wright.”
I had different styles and colors of edible panties. Ones that harbored the faint smell of strawberries and others a man really had to dig out from the crevices of my body with his tongue. I watched him as he brought them to his nose, sniffing them lightly as his eyes locked with mine.
“It looks like I found dessert,” he said.
“Is there an outfit for me to wear underneath those packages? Because if not, I would appreciate it if you dropped the fake shock.”
He tossed me a playful wink before he disappeared back into my bedroom. He re-emerged a few seconds later with a nightgown, and it shouldn’t have surprised me one bit which one he picked. The thing was navy blue, spaghetti-strapped, had no support whatsoever, crept all the way up to my mid-thigh, and had a sheer lining around the stomach of it. He walked over to me and dropped it in my lap, but I saw he had also held onto the handcuffs with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Rest. Remember?” I asked. “Now, can I depend on you to keep your eyes to yourself while I change?”
I stood up from the couch and steadied myself before I turned my back to him. I stripped off my clothes chanced a look back, finding that Liam was watching my every move.
Shivers slithered down my spine as his eyes dropped to my feet and raked back up.
“Dinner will be ready shortly, and I want your unbiased opinion,” Liam said. “I haven’t made this in dish in a while, so I hope I’m doing it justice.”
“Had to substitute a few too many ingredients?” I asked as I reached for the nightgown.
“Amazingly enough, you had everything I needed.”
My eyebrows rose to my hairline as I slowly turned around.
“Looks like my reputation isn’t shot after all,” I said.
Something fleeting passed through his vision before he made his way back down the hallway. I followed him slowly, running my hand along the wall to keep my balance. I had no idea why the hell he kept those handcuffs with him, but I tried to keep all of the salacious ideas at bay.
The last thing I needed was to be aroused in the skimpiest nightgown I owned.
I padded into the kitchen and stood behind him. I felt amorous and longed for another worship experience. I wanted to kneel at the altar of his body and drink from his fountain. The few times we had been together were damn near religious experiences. I’d never called out to any sort of God as much as I did with him.
“I called my office earlier to have them send over a few properties that have just gone on the market. They haven’t been advertised yet, so your eyes will be the first on their pictures. We can go over them after dinner,” I said.
I slid past him as he stood at the stove, my body pressing just close enough to brush the rounded globe of his ass. I grinned when he almost jumped out of his skin. His ladle full of soup dumped out into the pot as he tried to regain his composure.
“Rest. Remember?” Liam asked.
He looked over his shoulder at me as I sat down at my kitchen table. His eyes followed me, the soup in front of him long forgotten about. I pulled the side of my nightgown up and exposed my thigh to him, then lightly parted my legs so he could see what I had on underneath.
Which was nothing.
I’d been through an ordeal and was looking for anything to distract me. Anything to turn off the horrors that kept playing my head. I wanted Liam to run his fingers through the jungle of my hair. I wanted his body to slide between my thighs and take me in all the ways a man wanted a woman. Needed a woman. My life felt out of control. The constant feeling of choking weighed heavily on my mind. And facing my own mortality, I felt myself drifting towards the clouds. Approaching a light I’d basked underneath for what felt like hours.
Liam was my anchor. The one thing that made sense in my life that didn’t revolve around business. And I was looking for my life to make sense again.
I was looking to forget.
“My mother made this for me every time I was sick,” Liam said as he cleared his throat. “It always made me bounce back quicker than I would have liked. It has all the antioxidants you need to make a full recovery.”
He placed a bowl in front of me before complimenting the meal with a very decadent red wine from my cabinet.
A couple of glasses in only served to multiply my want to feel him. Touch him. Kiss those soft lips of his. But the soup in front of me kept me rooted to my spot. Each bite was an explosion of flavors on my tongue. His food was unlike anything I’d ever t
asted. I hummed with every bite and cursed my spoon for not being any bigger than it was.
But I could think of one ingredient that would make my dinner perfect.
As alcohol coursed through my system, I circled the rim of my glass with my finger. I dipped it into my wine, my eyes connected with his as he held his spoon midway to his lips. I slipped my finger into my mouth, grinning when his spoon fell quickly back to his bowl.
Fuck rest. Fuck doctor’s orders. Fuck sleep. I’d been asleep for damn near twelve hours. I had no control when it came to my own strength. Yesterday, I almost died. And I realized how absurdly alone I had become. How my riches and my money and my cars and my penthouse apartment and my black marble countertops and my stainless-steel appliances and my company and my private jet didn’t mean shit. None of it was there when I was laid up in the hospital. None of it had come by to hold my hand and smooth my hair away. None of it had gazed into my eyes and told me I was okay, that things were all right. None of it helped me home and into my bed so I could close my eyes and sleep off the horrid nightmare of choking on a breath I couldn’t inhale.
But Liam had come.
Liam had been there.
And he was the only thing I wanted now.
“I think I made a mess,” I said as I traced my wet fingertip along my chest.
“I see you have,” he said.
I watched him move his chair back before he disappeared beneath the kitchen table. I heard him crawling. Stalking. Preying on me like an animal. I spread my legs as his heat approached me and, in that moment, my heart turned a corner I knew I would never come back from. I leaned back into my chair and looked down, watching his dazzling blue eyes peek up from the darkness.
I knew I wasn’t going to have to wait long for the feel of his fingers, and I smiled as I prepared myself for the dessert course.
Investment In Lust Page 9