Taming Irish

by Seabrook, C. M.

  Where the hell is Security? I didn’t realize what a Code Pink was when I’d heard it. But they have to have the hospital shut down by now.

  “She’s going to leave,” I say, the words directed at Makena. “Now.”

  She gives a small shake of her head.

  Dammit, Makena.

  I take another step towards Emily, and she points the gun at me again. But, at least it’s off Makena.

  “Ye don’t want to hurt me.” I take another step closer, and she moves back. “Or our baby.” I’ll play along with the fantasy.

  “I just want our family.”

  “I know. Just give me the gun, so no one gets hurt.”

  My next step has her eyes widening, and if it’s possible, her expression becomes even more crazed. She turns the gun on the baby, placing it against the infant’s temple, making him wail louder.

  “Shane,” Makena whimpers, tears running down her cheeks.

  “I’ll do it.” Emily shifts back and forth, from foot to foot, then she points the gun back at Makena, and I watch in horror as her finger slides the trigger back. “I’ll kill you all.”

  “Get the baby!” Makena shouts, right before the gun fires.

  Time freezes. The blast of the gun is still ringing in my ears as I tackle the woman, careful to use my body as a shield for the infant, cradling his head against my chest as I peel the gun out of Emily’s hands.

  Everything else happens in a blur. Security guards swarm us, and I hear Cillian’s voice shouting. Axel keeps wailing in my arms, his face bright red. The security guards have Emily face down on the floor, her arms behind her back. And there’s another swarm of people hovering around where Makena stood a moment ago.

  Someone shouts for a stretcher.

  Cillian races toward me, and I’ve never seen the man look so terrified. He reaches for his son, and I place him in his arms.

  “He’s okay,” I say, more for my own reassurance. “He’s okay.”

  As soon as the child is out of my arms, I’m rushing towards the mob of people, calling out for Makena.

  She doesn’t answer.

  And I feel all the blood rush from head when I see the dark puddle of blood one of the nurses steps over as she helps lift a body from the floor onto the waiting gurney.

  I know it’s her, but a part of my brain denies it at the same time.

  “Makena.” Her name comes out in a hoarse whisper as I push one of the nurses away, to catch a glimpse of her face.

  She’s pale. Too damn pale. And when I stroke her cheek, she’s ice cold.

  “You need to move, sir. We need to get her into surgery.”

  I don’t want to let her go, but I know I have to. I bend over and kiss her forehead, and whisper harshly, “Don’t ye dare die on me, love. Ye promised me tomorrow. And I’m going to collect on it.”

  “Sir,” the nurse barks, making me move away.

  I stand there, alone, as she’s carted away. Cillian is taken somewhere with Axel to have the baby checked out. Emily, the woman responsible for it all, is gone. I didn’t even see them take her away.

  Makena’s blood is still on the floor, but it isn’t long before someone comes and starts to clean it up. I can’t move, can’t breathe. I just keep seeing Makena’s face as she shouts for me to protect the baby.

  Her eyes.

  She’d known the woman would shoot. And she was willing to sacrifice herself.

  I want to strangle her, and tie a gold fucking medal around her neck at the same time.

  “Sir.” Someone is talking to me, but there’s a buzz inside my skull, and I keep replaying the scene over and over in my head.

  Was there anything else I could have done?

  Maybe if I’d tackled the woman sooner. But I’d been worried about harming the baby. I grip my hair and curse.

  “They’re wanting yer statement, sir,” a man in uniform says.

  “I need to know when she gets out of surgery.”

  “Of course. Just come with us.”

  I don’t know how much time passes, but it feels like days as I repeat the events multiple times, to multiple people.

  “I’ve already told ye twice. Her name’s Emily Hudson. She works for me. If ye want any more information, ye can talk to my manager. I gave ye his number.” I stand up quickly, making the flimsy plastic chair I sat in fly backwards. “But, I can’t be here right now.”

  Not when Makena’s fighting for her life somewhere in the hospital. I know they said they would come find me when she was out of surgery, but I’m tired of waiting.

  “Shane.” Owen’s deep voice stops me.

  I turn, feeling the last shred of strength fall away when I see my best friend.

  “What the hell happened? We’ve been outside for hours. The hospital’s been on lockdown-”

  “Makena.” I breath her name in like it’s oxygen. For what feels like the hundredth time, I repeat everything I know.

  The emotion I’ve been holding back comes out in a shuddering breath, and I sink down the wall, crouching with my head in my hands.

  “It’s not yer fault.” Owen sits beside me, his arms resting on his knees. “Ye can’t blame yerself.”

  “Who the hell am I supposed to blame?”

  “The crazy bitch that shot her,” Aiden says as he approaches, anger lacing his words. “Cillian told me what happened.”

  “The baby?” I ask, needing some good news.

  “He’s fine. Delaney’s shaken up, but yer mom and Bree are with her.”

  “Emer?”

  “She stayed home with Cadence, but I told her what happened. Once she finds a sitter, she’ll be here.”

  I nod, glad to have the support of my family around. “Do ye know if they called Makena’s family? They should know.” I push myself up, needing something, anything to do, than just sit here and wonder if I’ll get my tomorrow.

  Chapter 27

  Makena

  “You have to have the worst pain tolerance of anyone I know,” Quinn quips when I groan, trying to peel myself off the couch.

  She’s been here for a month now. Shane had her and my mom flown here after the incident. My mom, thankfully, went home after I was discharged from the hospital. Quinn, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to have any intention of leaving.

  “If you don’t like my complaining, you can always go home.”

  She pouts at me from across the room. “Not until I know you’re going to be okay.”

  “I’m fine. Honestly.”

  “Well, someone needs to make sure you follow the doctor’s orders and rest. Which means no sex with that hot Irish god of yours.”

  “I thought my ears were itching,” Shane says, chuckling as he comes through front door.

  Like every time I see him, my chest constricts slightly and butterflies dance in my stomach.

  “Hi,” I say, and he wraps an arm around me, gently pulling me against him.

  “Hi.” His lips brush mine lightly, in a kiss that’s intimate and still makes my knees feel like mush under me.

  “Um, still here, guys,” Quinn says.

  Shane chuckles against my lips, and whispers, “When is she going home?”

  “I heard that,” she mutters, making us both laugh.

  “Are ye up for a small walk?” He brushes my hair away from my cheek with his knuckles, a hint of mischief sparking in his eyes.

  “As long as Dr. Quinn says it’s all right,” I tease, glancing over at my cousin.

  “Just don’t strain yourself.” She points a finger at Shane. “You know what I mean.”

  “Ye know, I can have a plane on standby whenever ye’d like,” he says, flashing her one of his grins, even though I know he’s only half joking.

  When we’re outside, away from Quinn’s prying eyes, he kisses me harder, though I can feel himself holding back.

  “Come on,” he says, opening the passenger door of his Ferrari for me.

  “I thought we were going for a walk.”

 
“We will. We just need to drive somewhere first.”

  I let him help me into the car, indulging him by letting him buckle my seatbelt for me, even though I’m more than capable of doing it.

  For the first two weeks after I woke up in intensive care, Shane hasn’t been far from my side. I was extremely lucky that the bullet didn’t hit any major organs, and my recovery time has been quick, despite the way both him and Quinn, and even Agnus and Emer, dote on me.

  There was a lot of media attention afterwards, despite how hard Shane and the others tried to keep it muted. But, when the lead singer of the world’s most beloved rock band’s baby is almost abducted from the hospital, there is bound to be press. Thankfully, this time, they painted me in a better light.

  While a few of the articles wrote me into the story as the victim of a crazed star-struck stalker, most hailed me as a hero. I’d shaken my head when I’d heard that, because I’d only done what anyone else would have.

  The woman, Emily, had been taken to jail, and charges have been laid. But she’s currently being treated at a mental health facility, after doctors diagnosed her with schizophrenia.

  It was a worse sentence than any jailtime she could have done, and my heart broke for the woman whose mind had betrayed her.

  “Do ye have any pain?” Shane asks, taking my hand as he navigates the narrow road.

  “No. It’s nice to finally get out of the house.” I’ve been cooped up for weeks. Not just because of my recovery, but because there always seems to be reporters lurking around the property, hoping for an interview.

  I hadn’t given them one. And I won’t.

  The biggest surprise was that Chad had shown up at the hospital. Not so surprisingly, with his own camera crew. An obvious publicity stunt.

  I never saw him.

  Shane had taken care of the situation before I even knew he was in the building. But I’d read about it online. I’m not sure how he did it, but the media twisted the visit into a headline that, for the first time, spun a negative image of Chad.

  I’d heard rumors that his career had been uncertain after his most recent release was a flop at the box office. That, and the fact that the director had stated publicly that the man was egocentric, talentless and a narcissist with a diva complex. There was even speculation that his marriage was already dissolving, and that Tess Remington had already filed for full custody of their unborn child.

  Rumors. Who knows what’s true and what isn’t? All I need to focus on is myself and the people I care about. Chad was erased from that list a long time ago.

  Shane is suspiciously quiet as we drive, and I realize why when he finally pulls to a stop ten minutes later in front of the Shamrock, where a helicopter sits in the open field beside it.

  “What are we doing?”

  He grins at me, giving me a glimpse of both dimples. “I didn’t think ye’d be strong enough to make the trek down the hill, so I managed to get us another means of transportation.”

  God, the man never fails to surprise me.

  “A helicopter? You do remember how much I hate flying.”

  “I’ll hold yer hand.” He kisses my cheek, then guides me towards the spinning circle of death.

  A rush of anxiety fills me. “Shane-”

  “Do ye trust me, love?”

  “I do.” I sigh and let him help me into the seat, my stomach knotting as he does up my buckles, then his own.

  He gives a thumbs-up to the pilot and we lift off. Shane takes my hand, giving it a squeeze.

  After the initial feeling of my stomach going into my throat, an oddly calm sensation comes over me.

  We fly over the Shamrock, moving out above the lough, before dropping down into an open space by the water.

  It isn’t until we land, and the helicopter door opens, that I realize where we are. His family cabin is visible a few hundred feet up the bank.

  “I thought this would be a little easier on ye.”

  “You know Quinn is going to kill you for this. She still thinks I should be on bedrest.”

  “I’d keep ye in bed all day long, too, if we could figure out a way to get rid of her.”

  “I’m not sure she wants to leave.”

  “Then I’m just going to have to find a place for ye and me.”

  “Did you seriously rent a helicopter, just so we could have sex?” I laugh, shaking my head. “I mean, I’m not complaining, but that’s excessive, even for you.”

  “As much as I’ve been aching to be inside of ye, love, I won’t be touching ye until we get the doctor’s go-ahead.”

  “We can always do other things.” I wiggle my brows at him and he laughs.

  “Come on.” He places an arm over my shoulder, and I lean into him, my heart skipping a couple beats as I let his heat warm me.

  The sun is behind the hills when we reach the cabin.

  He must have been here earlier, because there are two lounge chairs set up near the shore, and a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver ice bucket.

  All of a sudden, the cabin lights up, decorated with a thousand white lights, and soft music begins to play around us. Shane comes up behind me and pulls me against his back.

  “What is this?”

  “Our tomorrow,” he whispers in my ear.

  I turn lightly, and look up at him. “I don’t understand.”

  “I want to make a home here. With ye.”

  “Shane.”

  “Before ye say anything, I want ye to see it.” He lifts a hand, and almost instantly the field behind the shack is illuminated in tiny pot lights, creating some sort of pattern. “I spoke with a developer, and it wouldn’t be difficult to create a road that comes down through the forest, there.” He motions to the trees.

  I can’t breathe, and I definitely can’t speak.

  Taking my hand, he guides me up the small hill to the field of lights.

  “Can ye see it?” His arm wraps around my waist and he presses his cheek against mine.

  “What?”

  “Our house.”

  “Our house?” The words come out shaky. Is he really asking me what I think he is?

  He chuckles, then motions to the first line of lights. “I thought this whole section would be floor-to-ceiling windows, with the master bedroom on the second floor. We could wake up every morning with a perfect view of the lough. I’ve been looking at some designs, but ye’ll have the last say.”

  Tears burn the back of my eyes as he continues to lead me around, pointing out where the kitchen should be, and the guest bedrooms, as well as his soundproof music studio.

  “I thought this would be a perfect spot for yer workspace.”

  “My workspace?”

  “For yer designs. I’ve seen yer work, and ye’re too talented not to pursue it. Plus, I’ve seen the way ye smile when ye’re drawing.” He takes my hands, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll never stand in yer way, love. I promise ye that.”

  I’m trembling, my fingers shaking uncontrollably in his, and a damn tear falls across my cheek. Shane wipes it away with his thumb.

  “You want me to move in with you?”

  “No.” He shifts away from me, and I feel my heart sink a little, not understanding.

  Then, he’s kneeling in front of me, pulls out a box from his pocket, and takes my left hand.

  “I want ye to marry me, Makena.”

  I suck in a shaky breath, the tears I’d been holding back now freely spilling down my cheeks.

  “I want every tomorrow with ye.” He opens the box, revealing a large, square-cut diamond ring. “Will ye marry-”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes light up. He lets out a small sigh, then chuckles as he slides the ring on my finger. Warmth races through me, flooding every part of my being.

  And just like the first night he brought me here, a sense of belonging fills me. And I know this is home.

  Epilogue I

  Makena

  Six Months Later

  “Wow,” Quinn says, te
ars in her eyes as she grips my hand. “You look beautiful. That dress is absolutely stunning.”

  I designed it myself. Along with the bridesmaid dresses that Quinn, Emer, Delaney, and Bree are wearing.

  “It’s not too much?” I ask, glancing in the full-length mirror and taking in the pale satin dress that hugs my waist and hips, flaring out around my knees.

  “It’s perfect,” Emer says beside me, holding out a bouquet of white lilies for me to take.

  We’re having a small ceremony. Just Shane’s family, and my mom and a few of my cousins. I didn’t want anything extravagant, which disappointed Agnus. But she seemed happy enough that Shane was finally settling down that she didn’t put up too much of a fuss.

  Standing in the master bedroom of the house Shane had built overlooking the lough, I can see the guests taking their places in the rows of chairs below me. The windows are one-way, giving us privacy, and allowing me a chance to observe the beautiful man who paces nervously in front of the makeshift altar.

  I smile as I watch him, his fingers beating out a silent melody like they always do when he’s thinking. As if sensing me, he glances up, and a grin tugs at his lips. He can’t see me, but somehow, he knows I’m watching him.

  My stomach does the little flip-flop thing it always does when that grin is directed at me, and I sigh, my heart full.

  “You look happy,” Emer says, standing beside me, her hands resting over the almost unperceivable baby bump.

  I thought Shane would have a slight fit when she announced she was expecting again, knowing his dreams of touring would be delayed further. But he’d been good about it, surprising me by teasing Owen and Bree about when they were going to join the ankle-biter club.

  Which I doubt will be anytime soon.

  Bree’s career is soaring right now, her newest single sitting at the top of the charts, and she’ll be gone with Owen for a few months on tour. I have a feeling they’ll wait until after it’s over before even thinking about starting a family.

  I glance over at the women in the room, and I know how lucky I am to have them all in my life.

  Agnus and my mom sit chatting away conspiratorially. In true Irish fashion, Agnus invited my mom to stay with her while she’s here. And I’m surprised by how much Agnus has been able to get her out of her shell. Shane told me that they had a night out at a pub recently.