Claiming Cari (The Gilroy Clan Book 2)

by Megyn Ward

  “I didn’t even want to do it,” I tell her and it’s true. I didn’t want to do it. When the magazine reached out, I told them no. But then... “But Declan pointed out how much good it could do. For Boston Batters. The reading program at the library. Gilroy’s and our business.” I chewed on my lower lip, trying not to look at her. “For you.” Especially you. It’d been Declan’s ace in the hole. Tell them that you won’t do it unless they mention Cari’s show. Can you imagine the kind of turn out the charity event will get if it gets a mention in a publication as big as Bostonian?

  She stops, waiting for the crosswalk to turn. “Me?” she says, looking up at me.

  “You.” I give her a lopsided grin, hoping I look more casual than I feel. I shrug again. “I mean, if I’m going to pimp myself out, some good should come out of it other than my manwhore of a cousin getting laid and an upswing in bar business.”

  We cross the street, approaching the bar from the front. “I have something to show you,” I tell her, steering her around the corner, along the side of the building while fishing my keys out of my pocket. There, set in the wall is a heavy metal security door, complete with intercom and mail slot. “It leads up into the laundry room, behind the kitchen,” I tell her, fitting my key into the lock. “This way, we don’t have to tromp through the bar with groceries—”

  We. I realize what I said a second after it came out of my mouth and I stop, key waiting to be twisted in the lock.

  Shit.

  I open it for her, risking a quick glance her way. Her cheeks are flushed, and I’d bet her birthmark is as red as a cherry under her thermal.

  She caught what I said.

  So much for playing it cool.

  I pull the door shut behind us, letting the auto-lock catch before leading her down the short hallway leading to a second set of stairs. “I should probably get back to work.” I shove my hands into my pockets because I don’t know what to do with them.

  She turns to look at me. “You’re not coming up?”

  I let out a long slow breath, the ache in my lungs letting me know that I’ve been holding it for far too long. “I’ve got to check on Jeff, and I have some plans to finish for...” I’m babbling so I shut my mouth while she slowly mounts the first couple of steps. “It was good to see you again, Cari. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

  Jesus Christ, stop making it worse.

  “Okay.” She turns to look at me and squares her shoulders, reminding me of how she’s faced down Nora earlier. “How about tonight?”

  The step she’s standing on makes us the same height, which makes me think of those red heels of hers. I’ve been in a constant state of arousal since I showed up on her doorstep but thinking about her in those heels, and nothing else, isn’t doing me any favors. I keep my distance, resisting the urge to pull my hands from my pockets. Pull her against me. If I do that, I’m going to take her on the fucking stairs, and I don’t want to do that because I’m trying to do this right, goddamn it.

  “It’s Wednesday—dollar shots,” I tell her giving her a grin. “I’ll be here—my shift starts at eight.”

  “Oh,” she says her brow, crinkling slightly. “You’re working?”

  “The new guy and I split Wednesday. Declan and Conner work Thursday—Ladies’ Night,” I say, trying to keep my tone casual. “You want to do something before I have to be behind the bar?” I look at my watch, calculating how long I have to wait before seeing her again. “I can come back—”

  “Was this a date?” she says before catching her lower lip between her teeth. She looks nervous, and I can’t decide what she’s hoping my answer is.

  Yes. I want to say it. But I won’t. I can’t because this isn’t about me or how I feel. This is about her, meeting me halfway. Instead, I shrug. “You tell me.”

  The corners of her mouth pull upward into a smile. “How quickly can you get back here?”

  Every ounce of blood in my body rushes straight to my cock, and it takes every bit of self-control I have to stop myself from throwing her over my shoulder and pounding my way up the stairs. I want her naked. I want inside her. And if she looks down now, she’ll see just how much.

  Maintaining eye contact with her, I dig into my pocket and pull out my keys. Snapping off my key to the apartment, I press it into her hand. “You need to take this,” I say, my fingers curling around hers for a second before I let her go. I take a step back. And another. And another. Until I’m a safe distance away from where she’s standing on the stairs. “See you at seven?”

  No, none of this is going the way I planned.

  I’ve had eleven months to get myself under control. To learn how to manage the half-crazy, out of control feeling I’ve been fighting a losing battle against since the first night I had her. Eleven months and I was sure I had it handled. I was sure I had it all figured. Planned out.

  I’ve never been more wrong in my life.

  Thirty-one

  Cari

  I don’t call Tess like Conner suggested. As soon as Patrick leaves, I run upstairs long enough to text Chase.

  Me: Can we move our dinner to

  tomorrow night?

  I chew on my lip for a second, debating before I send a follow-up text.

  Me: And can Patrick come?

  It takes about thirty seconds for him to text back.

  Chase: Am I to bear witness to the

  First official date between Boston’s

  soon-to-be, newest art darling and

  its most eligible bachelor?

  Me: No.

  You’ll be bearing witness to the

  third.

  I laugh to counteract the heaviness that’s settled into my chest. Patrick and are dating. If I thought about it too hard, I might pass out.

  Chase: Can I be your Dude of Honor?

  Me: Shuddup.

  Chase: LOL. Yeah. I’ll move reservations

  and let Mandy know... have fun. ;)

  Shoving my phone into my pocket, I take the front stairs, feeding myself into the office and into the hallway. Passing the bathrooms, I step into the main bar area, surprised at how busy it is for a Wednesday afternoon. “Hey, Paddy—can I get a double bacon and cheese and two orders of onion rings, to go?” I say, sliding onto the barstool in front of where he stands, large glass pitcher tilted under the taps.

  “Goin’ to see Tessie, then?” Paddy says, scratching out my order onto a ticket before pinning to the wheel in the window. A face I don’t recognize pops up in the window and takes the ticket. A moment later, I hear the sizzle of patties hitting the grill.

  “Yeah,” I say, looking around the place. Aside from the missing staircase and the fact that it’s way busier than I remember, Gilroy’s looks exactly the same. “I figure it’ll go better with food.”

  “That girl loves her onion rings.” Paddy throws me a wink before righting the pitcher. He grabs a stack of pints from the cooler. I watch him move around the bar to deliver the beer to a bunch of college bros—probably ditching class to day drink and play pool. He wipes down a few tables and checks on a customers before making his way behind the bar.

  “Glad to be back?” he says, pulling his towel off his shoulder to wipe down a stack of glasses.

  I nod, feeling guilty about how relieved I am to be sitting here again. I love my parents and the struggling little town I grew up in, but this is my home now. “I never should’ve left.”

  “Well, you’re home now. Ain’t no damage been done that can’t be fixed over a few pints—” Paddy’s eyes twinkle at me. “Or a few onion rings.” Before I can say anything, he continues. “And don’t mind Con. He’s as nosy as they come.” Behind him, a bell dings and a brown paper bag appears in the window. “Can’t find his own so he’s gotta stick his nose in everyone else’s.”

  Paddy retrieves the bag and slides it across the bar. Down the length of it, I see the new bartender Con mentioned. It’s his friend, Logan. This time he’s wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater (despite
the fact that it’s early March) I’ve ever seen—another cat. This one with gold foil antlers and a red blinking light for a nose. I’m about to say hello, but he looks at me, giving me the slightest shake of his head. For whatever reason, he doesn’t want me to acknowledge that we’ve met.

  Ignoring Logan, I focus on Paddy. “Find his own what?” I say, gathering the bag before dropping off my stool.

  Paddy whips the towel off his shoulder and picks up another glass to polish. “Happiness.”

  He doesn’t look at me when he says it.

  The last few bars of Rock Me Like a Hurricane by The Scorpions is blaring so loud I can feel the bass line rattling against my eardrums. I can see Tess. She’s got her back to me, shaking her ass while she operates the hydraulic lift, lowering the truck it’s suspending in the air. I can see D&PG Contracting stenciled onto the truck’s door panel. There are three more crowded into the bay and two more parked on the tarmac outside. As soon as the song is over, I speak.

  “Cutting his brake lines?”

  Tess yelps like a whipped puppy and jumps before turning on me with the biggest grin I’ve ever seen. His meaning Declan. “Sure am. Wanna help?” she says before scowling at me. “Where the fuck have you been, bitch? Your plane landed hours ago.”

  “I know. Sorry...” I hold the bag out to her. “I come bearing bribes.”

  She bats the bag away and launches herself at me, giving me the kind of hug that would put a boa constrictor to shame. “I'm serious, where have you been? Con dropped you off three hours ago.”

  “On a date...” I tell her, laughing at the way she narrows her eyes at me. “with Patrick.”

  “Forgiven!” she shouts, snatching the bag from my hand before plopping down onto the freezing concrete. “Sit,” she says, waving a hand at the grease-spotted floor she’s sitting on, practically bending her neck in half to look at me. “Jesus, I forgot how tall you are.”

  I sit across from her and watch her rip the bag open, pulling a foil-wrapped burger and an order of onion rings. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she hasn’t eaten in days. She probably ate an hour ago.

  “Where’s Con?” I say, aiming a glance at his office. The lights were off, and the door was shut.

  “Don’t know,” Tess says around a mouthful. “He slammed around here for about an hour after he dropped you off and then took off.” She swallows and shrugs. “He’s been weird lately.”

  I think about what Paddy said. About Conner being unhappy. For some reason, my mind lands on the call he sent to voicemail on the drive from the airport. I thought it was because he was driving. Now, I’m wondering if it was something more. “I’m sorry I left.” I blurt it out, not sure where it comes from. “I’m really, really sorry.”

  Tess rolls her eyes. “Did he say something to you?” she says around an onion ring. “He’s such a bitch sometimes, I swear to god...” she wipes her mouth on one of the napkins Paddy stuck in the bag before wading it in her hand. “Look, I get it.” She gives me another grin. This one seems forced. “It sucks being here without you... I forgot what it was like to have a friend who didn’t pee standing up after Henley left. Then you came along, and it was nice... but then you left too.”

  I don’t know who Henley is, but the name is one I’ve heard before. The same name that flashed across Con’s phone screen this morning. I want to ask about her but something tells me now isn’t the time. “I’m not leaving again,” I tell her. “I’m home for good.”

  Tess grins. “Thank Christ,” she says around a mouthful of food. “I need more vagina in my life.”

  That’s Tess. As delicate as ever.

  “Well, hopefully I can offer you two-for-one,” I tell her my plan to get Grace to move here with Molly. As I talk, telling her about how Grace got pregnant in her senior year of high school and how she’s refused to tell anyone who the father is, Tess chews slowly, almost methodically, until she stops completely.

  “It must’ve been hard for her,” she says quietly, wadding the foil wrapper her burger came in around what’s left. I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen Tess not finish the food in front of her. “Especially since the father didn’t stick around.”

  “It was hard,” I say. “But Grace is a lot like you—once she makes up her mind, there’s no stopping her.” I shrug. “Besides, she had my parents. She was never alone—not really.”

  Tess picks at something on the bottom of her boot. “They were supportive?” She doesn’t look at me when she says it.

  “Well, not at first. At first, they freaked out—hardcore—but after the initial shock wore off and they realized she wasn’t going to name the father, they got down to the business of being grandparents.” I think about my niece and smile. “And Molly is no hardship. She’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to our family.”

  Something I say drains the color from Tess’s face. I open my mouth to ask her if she’s okay but the silence between us is filled with the clipped click of someone charging across the front tarmac at a fast walk. Tess looks up and over my shoulder. If I thought she looked pale before, it’s nothing compared to the way she looks now.

  I’ve never seen Tess cry before. Even now, I’m not entirely sure that’s what I’m seeing. Her eyes are glazed over with a thin sheen of moisture, her hazel irises glittering in the half-light of the garage. Her gaze darts to the right for a second, looking over my shoulder. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she says, knuckling away the errant tear before scrambling to her feet. I follow suit, turning to look over my shoulder just in time to watch Jessica walk through the open bay door, looking around like she’d just stepped onto an alien mother ship. One that smells like hot garbage.

  “I can’t deal with her right now.” On her feet, Tess dives for the truck she’s was working on before I showed up, grabbing a random tool from the chest beside it before disappearing under the hood.

  “Finally,” Jessica says, her gaze landing on me and narrowing. She’s wearing a fur-lined coat, and a pair of skin-tight jeans tucked into knee-high leather boots. “I’ve been looking for you for hours.”

  I look at Tess—all I can see of her is her coverall-covered backside—before looking at Jessica. “Me?” I say, shaking my head. “Why are you looking for me?”

  “Seriously?” Jessica rolls her eyes, clicking her manicured nails against the knock-off Coach bag hanging from the crook of her elbow. “The wedding is in two months, and you haven’t made one dress fitting.” She looks exasperated, heaving a frustrated sigh at my blank stare. “You’re one of my bridesmaids—remember?” Now she’s talking to me like I bumped my head and she’s asking me what day it is.

  “Yeah, I remember I was,” I tell her, trying hard not to grit my teeth. I don’t want to be in this skank’s wedding. I’d rather eat glass. “But I’ve been gone for almost a year. I figured you would’ve replaced me by now.”

  “Replace you?” Jess laughs. “How could I replace you, silly? You’re one of my best friends... is that you, Tess?” she says, fluttering her left hand in our direction, making sure to show off her door-knocker of a diamond.

  Best friends? Is this bitch kidding, right now?

  Before I can tell her to fuck off, Tess lifts her head from under the hood of the truck and directs her gaze at Jessica. “Hello, Jessica,” she says, her eyes completely clear, color back.

  “You don’t mind if I steal our friend for a while do you?” Jessica offers her a pointed smile, emphasizing the word our. “I’ve got to get her to Anton’s today if we’re going to get her fitted for her dress in time for the wedding.”

  Tess’s throat works for a moment, and her coloring slips again, the only indication that Jessica’s needling has any effect on her. She’s right. The only reason Jessica asked me to be a bridesmaid was to get to Tess.

  I open my mouth to tell Jessica to stick her dress fitting, and Anton, straight up her ass. Again, Tess cuts me off before I speak my mind. “Absolutely,” she says, steppin
g away from the truck to slam the hood closed. “I’ve got to get these oil-changes done anyway. Dec needs his trucks back by the end of the day.”

  “Thanks, Tess.” Jessica’s smile tightens at the familiar nickname Tess uses for her fiancé. I’ve never heard her use it before and I know she did it on purpose. “You’ve been a real trooper about this whole thing.” Jessica flicks her hand again, flashing her engagement ring. “You know—” She smiles. “About the wedding and all. I can’t tell you how much Declan and I appreciate it.”

  Tess laughs, shaking her head as she reaches her hand into her pocket and pulls out a worn bandana. “Dec’s family,” she says, rubbing at the streaks of grease on her hands. “There’s not much I wouldn’t do for him.”

  “Oh!” Jessica’s smile loosens up while she separates the straps of her purse to dig around inside. “That reminds me—” She pulls out a large, pale pink envelope and presents it to Tess. I know what it is, right away. It’s an invitation to the wedding.

  This is why she’s here. Wrangling me into a dress fitting is just an excuse. She came here to wound Tess and knowing that makes me want to strangle her.

  “I’ve been trying to get Declan to bring this to you for months but he’s being difficult—you know how he is sometimes.” She pushes the envelope into Tess’s hand, nose wrinkling at the grease smudges her fingers leave on the pristine cardstock. “I really hope you’ll be able to make it. Like you said, you’re family.”

  “Thanks,” Tess says, her voice calm and level, gaze aimed at the invitation in her hand for a moment before she looks at me. “You guys should probably go.” She’s telling me to get Jessica out of the garage before she does something she can’t take back. I wonder if Jessica knows how close she is to getting murdered.

  “Are you sure?” I say carefully. I don’t want to go. I want to stay here—and possibly kick Jessica’s ass—but Tess seems intent on my leaving.

  “Absolutely.” She says it again, her mouth forced into a smile. “See you tonight?”

  I barely manage a nod before Jessica grabs me by the arm and drags me away.