Liza had been through so much, such a terrible ordeal. I knew she’d need time, trauma counseling, plenty of rest and vitamins and everything to start to feel like herself again. But I took her back to my hotel, prepared to let her have the bed. I could sleep on the floor. I’d slept in jungles and swamps and deserts. The carpeted floor of a nice, Michigan Avenue high-rise hotel would be no hardship to me.
Connor and Eli had gone to talk to the police or have a beer and catch up or fallen off the face of the earth. I didn’t give a shit. All my focus was on her. The reason I’d come back to Chicago. The reason I’d go to the ends of the earth if she needed me. She was weary. I ordered her some room service while she took a long bath. She came out to find her favorite—French toast, bacon, and orange juice. She laughed, wrapped up in a voluminous white hotel robe, and sat down on the end of the bed to eat off the tray. She took a strawberry, ate some toast, drank all the juice and poured herself another glass from the little pitcher. After she’d gobbled most of it down under my approving eye, she pushed the plate of bacon to me.
“I can’t with the meat right now. I’m better than I was, but bacon is beyond me right now. Please do the honors.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” I said, eating a strip of crisp bacon. “Were you very sick?”
“Yeah,” she said, but she didn’t offer any more information.
I didn’t want to push her. Especially considering I’d seen where she was kept. I could easily fill in the blanks. Liza shivering on a dirty mattress, sick to her stomach, vomiting in the bucket or on the floor. Not even a cool cloth for her head or ginger ale to settle her stomach. I should have been there by her side, cradling her in my arms, soothing her and doing everything possible to make her feel better, to make her safe and comfortable. The rage that poured through me had to be forced back. I couldn’t afford to show that fury to her. She had enough to sort through and cope with. She didn’t need to have to help manage my emotions, too. Especially since I blamed myself as well as her captors.
“I’m sorry,” I said at last. “I shouldn’t have let you walk out of the office that night. I should have gone after you. This never—"
“Stop,” she said, getting to her feet. “None of this is your fault. I’m the one who got mixed up with a loan shark because I was naïve and stubborn. I was the one who ran. I should have told you what was going on from the very beginning, but I didn’t want you to think less of me, to think I was stupid or that I thought you should help me or anything. I didn’t want—that isn’t why I went to the island. I went to the island because I couldn’t stay away once I knew where you were. Even though it was a long shot. I wanted you back in my life. The first time you saw me, when you were so mad, and I walked out—I can’t begin to tell you how much I wanted you that night. I mean, I was upset and rattled from seeing your reaction to me. I was unsure, and I felt bad for upsetting you. All that was going on but mostly I was horny,” she laughed a little.
“Did you go back to your crappy motel and fantasize about me?” I teased, finishing off the bacon.
She blushed a little and nodded, “Yeah.”
“Good, because I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” I said a little sheepishly.
“I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy or the—you know, being kidnapped, but I’m really sleepy. Would you mind, um—,”
“No, you can have the bed. I’m fine on the floor,” I said quickly.
“No! Not that! I was hoping you’d hold me. When you spooned up behind me, the first night we spent together in over a decade, that was the happiest I’ve ever been and remembering it every single day was what kept me halfway sane in that warehouse.”
“Of course I’ll hold you. Come here,” I said. I toed off my shoes and climbed onto the wide bed, beckoned to her. She crawled between the sheets and backed up to me. I wrapped around her, curved my legs behind hers, my chest to her back, and draped my arm over her. She nestled back against me and murmured something that sounded like ‘perfect’ before she fell asleep. After a while, my sleepless nights caught up to me too, and I nodded off with her in my arms.
The next day, I convinced her to go home to St. Martin with me. We hadn’t really talked about the baby much. She knew I wanted her, knew I was happy about it. I didn’t want to pressure her, especially when it came to making big life decisions right after she went through hell with the Lucci syndicate.
We flew home. I got her settled into my cabin. It was no time before I was addicted to waking up with her, to a good mattress, a peaceful night, my beautiful woman in my arms. She smiled at me sleepily when I got up in the morning to go for a run. She slept in, made us eggs or we had yogurt with her homemade granola. The color was back in her cheeks, and her eyes weren’t frightened anymore. She had been seeing Connor’s counselor and really seemed to benefit from it. We walked on the beach, went swimming, did some yoga together. Mainly we touched and kissed, made love, fell asleep in each other’s arms and were deeply thankful her ordeal was over. Two weeks after she moved back to the island with me, we went to her first ultrasound appointment together.
I sat in the tiny dim room with her, winced as the tech got out a long gray wand and said, “This isn’t going to be comfortable, but an internal sonogram is the best way to check the pregnancy accurately at this stage.”
Liza winced a little but her eyes, like mine, were glued to the screen.
“That little bean shape,” she pointed, “is your baby. And this,” she tapped at the keyboard and the room was filled with a hollow whooshing sound in the background, and then flooded with a rhythm like horse’s hooves pounding a track. “That is a strong heartbeat. Measuring about six weeks, as the doctor predicted.”
We exchanged a smile. The woman printed a picture for us. When Liza was dressed, we went back to the cabin. She taped the ultrasound photo to the refrigerator. I caught her and kissed her deeply.
“You’ve given me the best gift of all.”
Chapter 30
Liza
My heart was so full. Our beautiful little baked bean of a baby was growing. Tommy and I lived together, worked together, woke up together every day. There was nothing more I could want. Then he kissed me and thanked me for the best gift ever. I was overwhelmed. It was all I could do not to cry.
We went back to the cabin, to our cabin. We had taken the afternoon off. Connor had grumbled that Tommy could come back to work after the sonogram, but Brandi threatened to go tend bar herself and cover for Tommy if he was so essential. Connor muttered about it a little, but Brandi was an unstoppable force, so he gave in. So we had the rest of the day to ourselves.
“Do you want some tea?” he asked after we arrived home and I took off my shoes. “Or a nap?”
I looked over my shoulder at him, knowing that I was blushing and that what I really wanted was flashing in my eyes. I didn’t have to say a word. He came to me at once, tipped my face in his hands and kissed my lips. It was one of those long, steamy, melting kisses that always made my legs go weak. That wasn’t a problem, since Tommy scooped me up in his arms and carried me to bed. I nuzzled his neck, traced the tattoo sleeve on one of his arms with my fingertips as he carried me the short distance. In no time, he had unbuttoned my loose sundress and let the straps slide off my arms.
“You are so good looking,” I said. “I mean it. You were the hottest guy I ever saw back in high school, and the years have been kind. You’re even hotter now,” I told him. He laughed.
“Well, if we’re making confessions, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen when you came back into my life, all your curves and the way we fit together. That had to be as good as it gets. Then today I heard our baby’s heartbeat,” he said, running his hand over the curve of my stomach, “and I saw how your body is going to change with the baby we made together, how every shift and change is going to be so precious to me—" he broke off and kissed my cheek and then my lips. It was a heated, sexy kiss, his tongue exploring, probin
g.
“You know,” I whispered against his questing lips. “I wish you’d come put your cock in me. You told me once that you loved my dirty mouth, that you loved that I always responded to you and showed you what I want. Well, that’s not going to change. In fact, there’s this whole womanly power feeling that comes with pregnancy now. So I need you in me even more. I’m not afraid to tell you what I want, and it’s not a cup of tea and a nap, O’Shea.”
“Good,” he said. “I want to be as considerate as I can and make sure you have everything you need. And if what you need is my cock, then I’m your man.”
“You are. You’re my man,” I said, surprised that it choked me up a little with emotion, how much I adored him. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, Liza. I always have. I love you and our baby, and I love our life together.”
“I’m a knocked-up fry cook at a bar, Tommy, and I’ve never been happier in my life,” I told him with a light laugh.
“That’s right. You’re my girl.”
He kissed his way down my body. He kissed the swell of my stomach, stopping to stroke my skin tenderly and press kisses to it. I smiled, so happy. Then he moved his hands down to my hips and stroked my inner thighs, sending tingles straight to my core. He spread my legs and put his face between them. Tugging at my outer lips, lapping at my sex with his hot, wet tongue, he wound me up fast. Sensation rolled through me, the feeling of a sparkling pleasure bubbled through me and when he inserted one long finger, breaching my tight inner lips, I came from the penetration. He worked a second finger in and curled them, stretching me, opening me, rubbing the spot that made me twist my hips and made my legs jerk as I tried to hold back, tried not to let the dark pleasure drag me under. It was too late, and I was screaming under his wicked hands, tossing my head back and forth on the mattress while his fingers worked my tight pussy, drenching me again. My sex just wept all over his hand as he fondled me, massaged me, made me whimper and beg him to wait and let me recover. When I was trembling, unsure I could take any more, he rose up and crawled above me on the bed. He kissed my forehead and my cheek, then dipped his tongue in my mouth, rubbing my nipple with one hand as he kneaded my breast and made me twist beneath his weight, wanting him to fill me, wanting his hard cock inside of me.
“Please, Tommy,” I whispered roughly. “Please.”
“Please what, baby?” he teased.
“Please give me your big cock,” I said brashly. “I want you to go deep, baby,” I said, loving the way it felt to be so bold with him, to know that all I had to do was ask, and Tommy would give me anything I wanted. So he levered up off of me and the next thing I knew, before I could catch my breath, he speared me with that magnificent, huge cock, his erection tunneling into me with what felt like the force of a freight train. I bowed off the bed, cried out as he went all the way in, buried balls deep in me, so thick and fat and hard that I was panting with the luscious way it felt to be so full of him. Then he started to move before I could adjust to the size of him.
Tommy pumped into me, his powerful thrusts making me almost choke with how full I was of him, his thumb reaching between us and working my swollen little clit until my legs jolted and I arched into him, grinding against him, pulsing around him and gripping that thick, wet cock with my inner muscles until he groaned and came inside me from the force of my orgasm. He shoved into me once more, stirring with his hips, hitting every sensitive spot inside me. I cried out again as another orgasm rolled through me, leaving me weak and helpless.
He kissed me, his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth. I was so completely joined with him, tangled up with him, all sweat and sex and perfect joy. When he held me in his arms, I cried tears of happiness. I clung to him, naked in our bed, and he held me until we started kissing again, insatiable for each other, always wanting more. He always gave me more, gave me everything. I loved Tommy O’Shea and our beautiful life together, forever. When I fell asleep in his arms, it was with the unshakeable faith that we’d wake up this way every morning for the rest of our lives. I’d be damned if we were ever apart again.
“You’re mine, Liza Jo Kelly, at long last,” he said against my hair.
“I’m more than yours. I’m having your baby,” I pointed out.
“And that makes me the happiest man in the world.”
Epilogue
Liza - One Year Later
Tommy was showing Dillon off again. Even though it was his day off to spend with the baby, he came to the pub anyway. That way I could see my little nugget on my break, and he got to show his brothers all of Dillon’s latest tricks. Right now, it was beating a wooden spoon on the table. People were eating their lunch, but the loudest uproar in the crowded place came from the front table where some of the O’Shea clan was congregated admiring our boy.
Billy was impressed, but Karin and Mickey insisted that Lucas could drum with a spoon practically the second he was born. Lucas who was currently yanking on the table leg trying to get it to come off and hopefully dump all the dishes and things off on the floor. Connor was behind the bar, telling Lucas to knock it off because we didn’t need a broken table—as if the tiny, naughty boy could do any real damage. Lucas grinned at being caught and ran around the table waiting for someone to chase him. Tommy looked up, met my eyes and waved Dillon’s chubby fist at me to say hi. My heart swelled.
I carried the tray out to the table for them to sample my new menu items. I waited as they oohed and aahed and talked about how amazing everything tasted. Even Connor, who was reluctant to serve anything but shepherd’s pie or bangers and mash agreed that it was great. I wanted to bring in more shellfish, more fruit sauces for local flavors, but it was a slow process convincing them to innovate on the tried-and-true menu. Tommy understood, because he was forever inventing new drinks and offering wild combinations of flavors with silly names that the tourists couldn’t get enough of.
As soon as I cleared away the tray, I took off my apron, shift over. I was surprised when Tommy handed the diaper bag and Dillon to Karin and said we’d see them later. I gave Dillon a squeeze and kissed his slobbery cheeks, then looked questioningly at Tommy.
“Let’s go for a drive down the coast. We haven’t been out by ourselves in a while,” he said. He had that mischievous light in his eyes. I knew he was up to something.
Tommy drove about a mile and a half down the beach from the pub and parked by an empty wooden building. It was white, the windows boarded up probably from back when the hurricane hit. There was a small parking lot, a water view.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“Your new restaurant,” he said, grinning that gorgeous, boyish grin. His blue green eyes sparkled mischievously. He held up the keys. “I know it’s your dream to own your own restaurant again and get to design the menu. Working at the pub won’t allow you to make the high-end cuisine you’ve always loved. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve done amazing things at the pub, and I love having you there, but there’s not enough room there in the established menu for you to be creative. So I bought this place. It was built as a restaurant and that place went out about three years ago, so the bones are there—all the wiring and gas and everything set up for a commercial kitchen. The walk-in cooler even still works—I had it inspected. It’ll need some work to make it what you want it to be—"
“Oh my God, Tommy!” I said, and threw my arms around him, laughing and crying at the same time. “I cannot believe you did this. Thank you! You didn’t have to though. I was already happy with what we have this is just—you just gave me my biggest dream!”
“Then let’s go check out the building and then you can make my biggest dream come true,” he said.
I followed him in and started exploring. The space was good, and the kitchen, once it was cleaned up and some of the equipment upgraded or repaired, would be perfect. I was already getting ideas for making it an Asian fusion restaurant with lots of outdoor seating and plenty of local flavors on the menu, gorgeous citrus desserts gar
nished with edible flowers… I wandered around, lost in my thoughts. After a while I noticed Tommy wasn’t following me around anymore. I found him out on the porch where there was outdoor seating. I sat down beside him, beaming.
“This is more than I ever imagined,” I said.
“So are you ready to return the favor?” he asked.
“You want me to get you a restaurant too?” I teased.
My mouth dropped open when he went down on one knee and took out a ring box, “No, I want you to be my wife, Liza. I’ve been waiting twelve years to ask you. So how about you give me a yes.”
“Yes!” I shouted, then covered my mouth. “Yes,” I said again in a normal voice, “Sorry, I got carried away.”
“No, don’t be sorry. I love to make you scream. In fact, we should go back inside your restaurant and christen it properly. I want to put this ring on your finger and then take everything else off of you. Liza O’Shea.”
“I love the sound of that, Tommy,” I said.
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me like it was the first time. I gasped and then laughed at myself, because every time he kissed me, I couldn’t believe it was so good, so right. This was everything, more than everything I’d ever dreamed of.
The End
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