Passion Restored

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  Clive ended the call before Owen could even say a fucking word.

  Was this really happening? Had Owen actually lost out on the job that would put the Gallaghers through to the next year? Holy hell. He’d lost it all. He’d fucking lost. To a company that had lower standards, cheaper products, and connections to the board.

  His palms went clammy, and he tried to catch his breath but found he couldn’t. Sweat trickled down his back, and he forced himself to move so his feet were off the bed, pressing to the floor as if he were trying to ground himself.

  He’d failed.

  How was he supposed to tell his brothers that all his hard work, all the time he’d put in alone and without them had been for nothing? They’d have to find other projects to fit into the timeframe they’d laid out for this large one, and he wasn’t sure if they would be able to do it. It had been a calculated risk, but they’d all agreed to it.

  They’d all agreed to it because they trusted Owen.

  And he’d failed.

  His phone buzzed again, and he swallowed hard before looking at the readout. Hands shaking, he answered. “Liz.”

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice soft. “I was calling to see how you were after your long day, but you sound like someone stole your puppy. Talk to me, baby.”

  She never called him baby. How bad did he sound?

  “I lost the job.” Not we. Not the company. He did. And, somehow, he had to figure out a way to make it better, but he didn’t know how.

  “What the fuck is that client thinking? I’m so sorry, Owen.” He’d told her before about the project, but hadn’t mentioned names or too many details since those were under lock and key. Now, it didn’t seem important.

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  “Damn it. Do you want to drive home now? Or want me to come up there?”

  He shook his head, though she couldn’t see him. “It’s two hours at least, and it’s dark out. I’ll just be back tomorrow.” The fact that she’d offered warmed him a little, though he wasn’t sure if he’d ever truly thaw from this.

  “That fucker. Okay, get into something comfortable and then get in bed. Maybe phone sex will make this night better.”

  Owen barked out a laugh and gripped his phone harder. “Thank you, Liz. Just…just thank you.”

  “Anything, Owen. You know that. Anything.”

  And he did know, though he still knew things were on shaky ground between them. Hell, everything he had was tentative these days. But the sound of her voice, the sound of her laugh…that helped.

  He just didn’t know if it was enough.

  If anything was enough.

  10

  Once again, Liz’s feet hurt, and she wanted to just soak in her old tub and forget about the long day. Only she couldn’t, since she’d made plans with Owen and she was pretty sure her tub had a small leak anyway. It was just one more thing on her household list that never seemed to end, and she had a feeling that soon she’d have to ask the Gallaghers for help.

  She hated asking for help.

  Liz let out a snort as she toed off her work shoes. Yeah, the fact that she hated asking for help wasn’t a surprise at all. She’d rather throw herself on an anthill most days than show someone she couldn’t do things on her own. That’s probably why she was currently exhausted, hating her job, and in need of a bubble bath she couldn’t have.

  Maybe drinking tonight with Owen would help.

  Or sex. Yes, sex would help tremendously.

  How she’d gone from avoiding him to needing him in her life she didn’t know, and she didn’t want to think about it. If she kept dwelling on it, she’d end up fucking things up again. He hadn’t run away when she’d bared her past to him; instead, he pushed at her harder to let go. So maybe if they were careful, if they took things slowly, they might have a shot.

  She had one leg out of her pants and froze, her gaze meeting her reflection in the mirror.

  A shot? She was at the point where she was thinking about having a shot with Owen? And not the alcoholic kind. The kind that meant futures and having trust in someone, believing that they wouldn’t screw everything up where they left you bleeding and broken on the ground.

  How had this happened?

  And more importantly, did she want this to happen?

  Liz blinked at her reflection before letting out a breath. It was just one more date, one more day with a man that confused her to no end. This wasn’t a proposal for something more. She just had to take it one day at a time and not stress herself out as much as she was. Between work, her house, and Owen, she was going to end up with an ulcer.

  Okay, time to get over herself, and get her mind in the game. She had a date with a very sexy man tonight, and if everything worked out, she’d have a few orgasms, as well. Owen was good with his hands in and out of bed. She blushed. Okay, fine, so she was one lucky woman. She just had to remember that. And as long as she didn’t think about how she could mess things up, she’d be fine.

  She jumped in the shower quickly, washing away the day and the stress of the job, knowing she didn’t have much time to get ready before Owen showed up. Thankfully, she’d chopped off a few inches of her hair the week before so it wouldn’t take her hours to blow dry it like usual. Thirty minutes later, she had her hair as done as it was going to get, a little bit of makeup on, and a wrap dress Tessa had made her buy over a year ago that she hadn’t had a chance to actually wear yet.

  She’d put on patterned tights, and was just about to get into her knee-high boots when the doorbell rang. As Tessa was already out on her date for the evening—a second date with a man from an online dating site—Liz scrambled to the door, boots in hand.

  On the other side, Owen stood on her small porch, the dark coal of his trousers looking sexy as hell on those thick, muscled legs of his. He had on a long-sleeved dress shirt that was a few shades lighter than his pants, and hadn’t bothered with a tie or overcoat. Instead, he wore the leather jacket that she loved and made her want to dry hump him right there on the porch.

  From the knowing look in his eyes, he had the same idea.

  “I’m almost ready.”

  Owen’s gaze traveled over her body, and he licked his lips. “We could just stay here, you know. I’ll help you into those boots, and then I’ll strip down those tights of yours so I can fuck you from behind. Of course, I’d have to lick up that pretty ass of yours because damn, honey, that dress just makes your curves stand out so everyone knows they’re perfect for my hands.”

  She rolled her eyes, even as her body heated at his words. “It’s a wrap dress, so it’s supposed to make my curves all sexy-like. According to Tessa anyway.”

  Owen stepped forward so he could close the door behind him before reaching out and tracing his finger over the side of her breast. “Tessa’s right. And a wrap dress? Does that mean I get to unwrap you later?”

  Liz leaned forward and kissed his stubbled jaw. “That’s the general idea. But seriously, I’m hungry, and you promised me a date. We can have all the sex you want when we get back, but I skipped lunch thanks to an emergency, and I’m starving.”

  Owen frowned before going over to pick up her coat off the rack by the door. “Let’s get you fed then, Lizzie. But you know that you shouldn’t skip meals. You’re a nurse.”

  Liz finished zipping up her boots and turned her back so Owen could help her into her jacket. “Yeah, well, nurses and doctors have horrible diets. We eat what’s on hand, and rely on coffee to get through the day. While I’d love to be able to say I eat salads at lunch and hydrate, I totally don’t.” She turned and Owen pressed a small kiss to her lips. Her damn traitorous heart sped at the touch, and she did her best not to lean into him and demand more.

  “Let’s feed you, then. And hydrate. Then I’ll work out the kinks in your back by fucking you until we’re both exhausted.”

  She grinned at him as he opened the door for her. “That sounds like a plan, Gallagher. Food and sex. What more could a gi
rl ask for?”

  Owen gave her an odd look she couldn’t decipher before blanking his face. She’d said something that either irritated him or made him think, and she had a feeling it had to do with the fact that she kept pushing him away, ever so subtlety. Damn it, she needed to do better, but it was reflex, after all.

  The drive to the restaurant Owen had made reservations for wasn’t uncomfortable, and for that she was grateful. He asked about her day, and she told him all she could without going into details. Not only did she not want to break patient confidentiality, she knew ER room visits weren’t the best thing to talk about over dinner.

  The place Owen had chosen for dinner was near the main downtown area of Denver, but not in the busy part where it was hard to find parking. Apparently, Owen’s sisters-in-law worked at a tattoo shop near there with Maya actually owning half of it. Maybe if Liz ever had a moment to herself, she’d stop by and see if she could get something small. She loved the look of Owen’s ink, and she’d always wanted something for herself.

  When she’d told Owen that over appetizers, his eyes had darkened. “What would you get?”

  Liz smiled. “You like the idea, then?”

  Owen reached over their plates to trace the back of her hand with his finger, and she shivered. “Yeah, I do. I think your body was made for art.”

  He’d whispered the words, but she still blushed at the idea that others could hear. While she liked to talk dirty and in detail, she preferred to do it behind closed doors. Owen didn’t seem to have that problem.

  “Um…I was thinking of maybe something to do with healing, like a symbol, color, or flower that represents healing and rebirth. Probably on my hip or lower back since those parts are always hidden under my scrubs. I’ll have to do more research.”

  Owen nodded before moving his hand back and taking a sip of his wine. They’d both ordered a glass of shiraz to go with their meals and would stop at one drink since they had to drive home later.

  “Maya or Blake could do that for you. Hell, anyone at Montgomery Ink would make it work. Everyone at the shop has their specialties, but I think Callie, one of the other women who works there, is a flower whiz. She’s newer than the others, but from what I’ve seen, she knows what she’s doing.”

  Liz took a bite of her meal before continuing, “Are all of your tattoos from that shop, then?”

  Owen nodded. “I was late to the game with my ink because I spent so long researching exactly what I wanted. Then Jake met Maya in a bar, and they became best friends. Once I saw what she—as well as her brother and the rest of them—could do, I knew who would be doing my ink.” He snorted. “And it’s not like I could go anywhere else after that, or Maya would have kicked my ass.”

  Liz smiled widely. “I think I love Maya and Blake because of that. They don’t take shit from anyone.”

  Owen quirked a brow, the ring there small enough that most people missed it, but still there to show that he wasn’t always the man in the suit. “You don’t take it from anyone either, Liz.”

  She shrugged, moving out of the way as the waiter took away their appetizer plates and set down their entrees.

  “Did I say something wrong?” Owen asked.

  She looked up at him and shook her head. “No, you didn’t. I just don’t really think I compare to either of them. They’re so strong.”

  “And so are you. I know you don’t see yourself that way, but I can tell you that neither of them did either. About themselves. Hell, I’m pretty sure we all have days where we don’t feel like we can handle things. It’s how we work through those times and persevere that defines our strength.”

  She tilted her head as she studied his face. “You’re much wiser than you let on, Gallagher.”

  He grinned. “Yeah? I don’t always feel wise.” His grin fell, and she wanted to reach out and hold him. The table and food between them stopped her, but only just.

  “It’s been a week since you got back,” she treaded carefully. “Is everything okay with you and your brothers?”

  Owen looked down, playing with his food. It was so unlike him that she knew he was really worried. “I guess. I mean they keep saying they don’t blame me for what happened but I don’t know. Deals fall through all the time, but this one…this one hurt.”

  She reached out and gripped his free hand. “Listen to your brothers, Owen. They’re telling you that they don’t blame you, and you know what, I bet they don’t. You all work so hard on a company you built with your own hands, and I am so proud of you guys. So you don’t have that one client, that’s fine. You’ll have twenty more. You guys have a wonderful reputation, and you’re going to make it. I’ve seen the work you guys do.”

  “This one just hurts, you know?”

  “I know,” she whispered. This one had been on him, and he was taking it personally. She couldn’t blame him for his feelings as she’d have been in the same boat, but it still hurt her to see him like this. “How about I let you work on a few things in my house? Would that make you feel better?” She didn’t know anything else she could do for him, and honestly, she needed to get over herself and ask for help in things she couldn’t do on her own. Tessa had already been on her for that and had wanted to ask the Gallaghers weeks ago.

  Maybe it was time for Liz to listen.

  He squeezed her hand, his eyes lightening. “You must feel sorry for me if you’re asking for help.”

  “I’d flip you off, but we’re in a nice restaurant and I’m hungry.”

  “You can fuck me later to make your point known,” Owen whispered.

  Her heart sped up again, and her breath quickened. “Good.”

  Owen had her on her knees in his bathroom as he thrust his hips into hers, their bodies in sync as they panted together. They might have both been clothed, but she knew she was close to coming from the friction alone. They’d finished their meals rather quickly at the restaurant, talking about things that mattered but weren’t going to lead them down roads better left untraveled, before paying with cash and practically running out of the building.

  Anyone who looked at them would have known what they were racing off to do, but she hadn’t cared. The ride had been achingly long, and she’d literally had to sit on her hands so she wouldn’t reach over and undo Owen’s pants. There was no way she’d get them both into an accident because she couldn’t keep herself from touching him.

  As soon as they’d pulled into his driveway since it would have been silly for him to park in hers as they were neighbors, they’d thrown themselves at each other, kissing, pulling, and kneading. Somehow, they’d made their way into his house, not making a decision on which bed to sleep in as it didn’t matter. She just needed him.

  When he’d pressed her against the front door, she’d winced, her body sore from a long day’s work. Owen had taken one look at her and decreed that they’d be taking a bath to soak before they fucked like rabbits.

  She loved that mouth of his.

  And that mouth was currently sliding down her back over the material as he reached forward to undo her dress. She pulled away and twisted so she was kneeling in front of him still, but this time, facing him.

  “We can’t even make it far enough to stand and strip,” she said, her breathing heavy.

  “I need my hands on you,” Owen said with a groan. “What can I say? Now, there was a mention earlier of unwrapping. Can I play now?”

  She smiled widely, loving the way he pouted. God, she could fall for this man. And that’s why she would do her best not to think about it, or she’d scare herself out of his arms and out of this relationship.

  “Just pull the tie at the side. Then the other underneath on the other. Then you’ll see your present.”

  Owen gave her a hard kiss before leaning back. “It’s like Christmas morning.”

  “Uh huh. Now strip me because you promised me a bath to soak before you fucked me, and with the way we’re going, we’ll end up skipping the bath and my feet will hate you for that.”r />
  “I don’t want your feet hating me.” He leaned forward and undid the ties, his eyes on her body as her dress fell to the sides. She rolled her shoulders, and the rest of the fabric pooled by their knees. Owen’s eyes darkened, his gaze traveling over the black lace bra and panty set she’d worn under the knit dress. “You’re wearing garters,” he breathed, his voice cracking slightly. “And the belt thing that keeps your stockings up.” He met her gaze, his eyes narrowing. “You said you were wearing tights. Not stockings. How could you keep something this fucking sexy from me?”

  She grinned before cupping her breasts. “What?” She blinked innocently. “I told you that you would be unwrapping your present.”

  He growled before crushing his mouth to hers, one hand thrust into her hair, the other on her ass, molding, his fingers playing with her crack. “I’m going to fuck this ass tonight, Liz. You’re ready for me, for my cock. So we’re going to soak and get our bodies all limber and hot, then I’m going to fuck your ass and have you squeeze my dick as you come. Does that sound like a plan?”

  Liz gave him a bland look. “It’s all lollipops and rainbows before someone mentions butt sex.”

  Owen blinked before he threw back his head and laughed. “Yes, butt sex changes everything. So, what do you say?”

  He gave one cheek a squeeze, and her body shivered. She clung to him, needing, aching, ready. “Is that punishment for keeping my garters from you?”

  He pulled her hair slightly so her head fell back and he could meet her eyes. “Not a punishment, Lizzie. A promise.” He let out a shuddering breath. “And because I really want us in the tub to get clean for later, I’m going to have to watch you take off your stockings and bra. I don’t think I’m going to be able to do it for you, or I’ll end up bending you over the edge of the tub and having my way with you. We’re going slow.” He let out a deep breath. “Well, as slow as we can.”