“They’re the only people I’ve ever had,” he says, taking a step away from me. My soul pulls, trying to reach his again, but a wall has come down, protecting himself.
I grab my purse and don’t bother to hide the amount of tears that fall down my face. “That’s right. I’ve always been nothing. I’ve always been in the background.” I walk around him, creating a wide berth as I head toward the door. “I’ll be in for work. You don’t have to worry about me ever crossing a line with you. We are done. We never happened. We are in the background again. Not that we ever left,” I mutter, swinging the door open and stomping down the sidewalk to get back home.
The sun has set a bit more, making the streets even darker. I shake my head to myself as I laugh. I fell for it—the Reilly charm. I let my lust lead the way. I should have thought with my head, not my heart. If I had, I wouldn’t be in this situation, broken-hearted and pissed off. He and I only shared desire. That’s it. The sex had been had, and I really hate how good it was. No one else would ever compare to what he made me feel in the bedroom.
Just the bedroom though, I remind myself. That’s all the relationship was between Reilly and I. There was nothing else.
The wind whips against my face, drying my tears. I figure the universe is telling me to suck it up and that I don’t need him. I’m an independent woman who doesn’t need that Irishman. Even if I really, really, really want him.
I rush back to the apartment, keeping my head down as I pass people, so they didn’t see my wet face. I climb the steps, keeping my arms crossed, and once I open my apartment door, I let the pain out. I let the fake bandage I had kept over my emotions come off, allowing my emotions to bleed.
The pain cripples me, and I fall to the floor, gasping for air as I cry.
“What the fuck? Gwen! What’s wrong? What happened!” Mills calls, falling to the floor and holding me in her arms as I cry. I clutch to her like a lifeline. I don’t know why she’s here tonight, but I’m thankful. “Talk to me, Gwen. What happened?” she croons, petting my hair as she tries to get me to calm down.
Reilly O’Hara. That's what happened.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Reilly
It’s been three weeks since I made the biggest mistake of my life. I know that. I knew the moment she walked out that door, I had ruined my only chance of happiness. Even saying the words as they fell from my mouth felt wrong. The moment it happened, I wanted to take it all back, but I couldn’t.
Now I stand behind the bar, drying off a few mugs and watching man after man hit on Gwen as she makes her rounds. Since the days are getting hotter, her clothes are getting shorter. Her top shows a bit of her stomach and her legs look tanner from the sun, which has finally popped through the clouds. Every single man in this town has eyes on her, and she has eyes on all of them—except me. She doesn’t look at them the way she looked at me for those few days we had been together.
A few days, I scoff. I’ve loved that girl for years.
“You called it off, huh?” Brock says as he stands next to me, pouring someone a drink.
I sigh. “I don’t really want to talk about it, Brock.”
The splash of the draft hitting the mug makes me turn my head to him. He isn’t angling the glass enough to stop the foaming on top, but I don’t feel like correcting him. He slides the glass down the bar without spilling a drop, and Grayson grabs it.
“What’s that arse doing in me bar?” I ask. I never liked Grayson. It’s that arse-hole who I have to blame for the reason I can’t tell Anthony about Gwen. After how he broke her heart, I can’t ever forgive him.
“Him? I don’t know. Who cares? It’s just beer.”
But it isn’t just beer. He smirks at me over the rim of his glass, sliding his eyes over to Gwen. The bar had been busier since she started working here. Men are coming from all over the place to see her. It ticks me off, but she makes a killing in tips.
“Keep an eye on her, will ye? I don’t trust him.”
“You aren’t going to trust any guy that isn’t you, Reilly.”
That much is true, but even though I’m not the guy in her life, I want to make sure no other guys try to hurt her. This is Anthony’s sister. I need to make sure she is safe. “That’s not the point.”
He pours a Jack and Coke and places it on a tray for Gwen to take. “Isn’t it? You’ve been moping around for the last three weeks because you’re an idiot. She is going to move on without you. Maybe with the guy who keeps eyeing her like she is a rare piece of meat. They will build a good life together. Maybe build a home. Have a few kids. He will go to her family dinners and Anthony will love him like a brother because he is always honest and upfront and—”
“Ye sound like an eighties sitcom,” I mutter, leaning back and watching a group of guys play pool. They are watching Gwen with a bit too much interest. They have a dangerous gleam in their eyes. I haven’t seen them around town before. Grayson walks over to them, and they all start laughing. Oh, so they’re his friends? That makes more sense as to why I don’t get a good vibe from them.
“The thought of her moving on doesn’t bother you?”
“Of course it does, but it’s a sticky situation.”
“Yeah, you fell in love with your best friend’s sister, but don’t you think you have the right to be happy? If Anthony is such a good friend, wouldn’t he understand that? Wouldn’t he want that for you? Just saying, man.” He pats me on the shoulder before moving down to the other end of the bar and helping the other customers.
I rub my beard, letting what he said roll around in my head. Here I am, thinking about what would keep Anthony happy, but by doing so, I’m sacrificing what makes me happy. But does Anthony care about that at all? Does it really matter as long as I love her the way she deserves to be loved?
Gwen strolls up to Grayson, mumbling something I can’t understand. He bent down, whispering something in her ear. I clutch onto a glass too tightly and it shatters in my hand, causing a few heads to turn my way, including Gwen’s. I don’t pretend that it isn’t because of who she was talking to. I don’t turn my head away. I want her to see that I’m watching her. Her face gives nothing away and she strides back to the bar.
That wee T-shirt of hers has to go. If it’s giving me an erection, it’s giving every other man in here one, too.
“I need three Bud Lights,” she says, placing her tray down on the bar with a little more force than necessary.
“I need ye to change ye shirt.” I open the cooler, grabbing a few bottles. This type of beer is just watered-down piss. I don’t know how people drink it. I pop the bottle caps off, placing them on her tray.
“Yeah, sometimes we don’t get what we need, do we?” she sasses, turning on her heels and walking away. Her hips sway, making my eyes zero in on the plump flesh that I miss grabbing.
I scrub the bar down with the rag. “Little shite,” I mutter as she delivers the drinks to the crowd. I really want her out of my bar. Once she delivers the drinks, Grayson grabs her wrist and drags her back over, lacing their hands together as he leans against the jukebox. She tugs her hand free, wiping it on her tiny shorts.
He whispers something in her ear again, and she shakes her head. He puts a quarter into the machine and ‘Strawberry Wine’ starts to play. He wraps his arms around her, trying to get her to dance.
I slap the rag down on the bar, place my hand on top, and hop over.
“Whoa, what the hell are you doing, Reilly?” Brock shouts. He moves to run around the bar, but I stop him.
“No. Ye need to stay put and pour drinks. I’m going to take care of this.”
Brock takes a breath as if he wants to say something, but he keeps his mouth shut. Good man. I push my way past a few people. The music blares, making it too hard to hear what anyone is saying. When I get closer, Grayson has his hand a little too close to her ass, keeping it on her lower back. Her palms are on his chest, but not like how she put them on mine. Her back arches away from him as sh
e pushes against his pecs and tries to get away.
I knock three times on the jukebox, making the music stop. Everyone in the bar turns to us. The only noises left are the pool balls smacking against each other from the last shot someone made, and the exhale of someone smoking a cigarette. “I believe the lady is trying to tell ye no, Grayson.”
“How would ‘ye’ know?” he mocks me, making his friends laugh.
Gwen struggles against his chest, trying to get away, so I grab her shirt, plucking her from his arms and putting her behind my back. “Because she is trying to get away from you. It’s something a decent man would know. Something ye aren’t.”
Her hands clutch the back of my shirt and my body trembles from withdrawal. I’ve missed her touch, even if it’s just the slightest bit.
“I need ye and yer friends to get out of me bar. Ye aren’t welcome back here, either.”
Grayson puts down his pool stick, getting right in front of my face. He holds up his hands. “Fair enough.” He winks at Gwen, who had peeked her head around my back. “I’ll see ye later, Gwenie.”
“Ye won’t be seeing her anywhere,” I growl, putting my arm behind my back to keep her out of his reach.
“We’ll see about that.” His shoulder pushes against mine, and I would have retaliated if Gwen hadn’t been behind me.
My temper shoots up. I am five seconds away from grabbing his throat and crunching it when I feel Gwen’s hands rubbing my back, instantly calming me. The crowd splits as Grayson and his friends stroll to the front door. He kicks it open and disappears into the dark, nearly knocking it off its hinges.
“Reilly!” she gasps from behind me.
“Everyone out!” I shout. People stare at me with wide eyes, like so many deer caught in headlights. “Did I stutter? Get out! Don’t worry about yer tabs. Just get out.”
The bodies finally start to disperse. People mutter and curse as they put their drinks down. Brock shakes his head, grabs his keys, and put on his fedora. “Call me if you need me, Reilly.”
“Aye,” I say, peeking over my shoulder to see Gwen staring at the floor.
Once Brock leaves, I lean against the pool table, crossing my arms over my chest. She unties her apron and lays it on one of the chairs. “Thanks for that.”
“Just doing what any good boss would do,” I mutter with anger, wondering what the hell she had been thinking by serving that jackass.
She stares at the ceiling and laughs sardonically. “Of course. God forbid you did it because you care.”
“I do care about ye! I don’t want ye near that arsehole. He ain’t nothing but scum, and ye deserve better than that.”
“I’m not interested in him, but you have no room to tell me what I do and do not deserve. I had what I wanted, and you threw that away.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry can’t fix this,” she hisses. “I don’t plan on ever going out with Grayson, okay? He is a jackass, but I was just doing my job—giving everyone drinks. But one day, I’m going to date again, and one day, you’re going to want me back. You’re going to wish you never would have let others interfere with us, but it will be too late. I will have moved on. I look forward to the day where I can actually let you go.”
I start to panic. She can’t let me go. Just as much as I can’t let her go. “Gwen…”
“I won’t live my life on pause or wait for you, Reilly.”
I reach for her so I can pull her to me, but she takes a step back just in time. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to change your mind just because you don’t like the outcome of the truth when it’s laid out in front of you. You can’t just decide you want me because you don’t want others to have me.”
“I want ye more than my next damn breath, Gwenie.” I tap my chest with my fist. “It hurts right here. Every damn day.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.” She steps toward me and her citrus perfume wraps around me. It takes me back to when we tossed and turned in bed, her hair gliding over my chest and her skin sweating against mine.
She licks her lips, and my eyes drift down, staring at her plush pillows. I miss their strawberry taste. If I closed my eyes and thought hard enough, I could almost feel the softness of her lips against mine, owning me and controlling me. At the end of the day, I am hers. Me heart is hers, and no one else will ever have it.
I keep my hands to myself but lean down as she tilts her head up. Our lips are close again, begging to be taken. Right when I’m about to say fuck it all, the door slams open and Anthony walks through the door.
I push her away. She glances over her shoulder to see who it is, heartbreak written all over her face.
“Wow, Reilly. The bar is dead,” Anthony says, stepping over a fallen glass as he comes closer to us.
“I just kicked everyone out. What brought ye here, Anthony?” I decide to not tell him about Grayson.
“Alright. I won’t question it. That works out for me, actually. Remember that thing I said you wouldn’t be happy about? From Lucky’s will?”
“Aye.”
“I’m here for that.” He takes out a sleek, white envelope from his inner jacket pocket. “Gwen, how are you liking the waitress life?”
“It’s good while I wait to find another teaching job. Tips are great.” She gives him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Wait… she’s actively looking to leave? I didn’t know about this, or maybe I do. Anthony did say she had a restless heart, and Christ knows that whatever happened between us would only light her fire even more.
“I have faith in you, Gwen. You’ve always done well for yourself.”
She gives Anthony a small, sad smile. One that makes its way into my heart, forcing the words that I need to share with Anthony to sit on my tongue. I just have to tell him. I just need to lay it all out.
“I hate to tell you this buddy, but you need a wife,” Anthony says, taking a few strides until he stands behind the bar. He pours us all a drink as he slides the envelope along the bar.
I blink a few times, not understanding what he said. “Excuse me?”
He loosens his tie and take a big gulp of beer. “I really hate Lucky right now for making me do this.”
“Do what? What the hell are you talking about?” My brows pinch as I open the envelope.
“Ye need to be married on, or by, St. Patrick’s Day of this year, or else you’ll lose the bar, Reilly. It will get sold to the bank and they will auction it off.”
I look over the agreement, reading the stipulation my grandfather had left. Every pore on my body starts to sweat. “This wasn’t in the original will. Why wasn’t this in the will?” I start to panic. How the fuck am I going to get a wife in that short amount of time? I mean, St. Patty’s day is only two weeks away!
“It didn’t say this originally. Why didn’t it say this? Why didn’t you tell me this months ago?!” I shout, flipping the page over to see if there are any more surprises written on it.
“I need to sit down.” My head spins and I collapse onto the stool, staring at my grandpa’s signature at the bottom of the page… along with Anthony’s.
“You little shite! You’ve known about this! You’ve known I needed a wife and ye didn’t tell me? What kind of friend are ye? Now I’m going to lose me grandpa’s pub? Are ye kidding me?” What the fuck am I going to do? I mean, I have money. I don’t need the pub, but it is my grandpa’s legacy. I have to keep it.
Anthony leans his elbows on the bar, staring at me right in the eyes. “You don’t know how badly I wanted to tell you. I really did. I wanted to tell you so bad, but I couldn’t break the attorney-client privilege. He made me promise. He gave me today’s date and his words were, ‘If this doesn’t light a fire under his ass, I don’t know what will.’”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I swear, if he were here right now, I’d kick him right in the shins,” I curse, chugging my beer.
Gwen giggles. The soft sound eases my panic.
“He wanted you to find love and be happy. He didn’t want this pub to be your life, so he made this rule. He made it because he let this pub rule his life, Reilly. It was too late for him to learn from his mistakes and he didn’t want you to make the same ones, and I agreed with him.”
“How the hell do ye expect me to find a wife in two weeks? Hell, how about a fiancée? Those just don’t come knocking on ye door, Anthony.” I swear his eyes slide over to Gwen, but that has to just be my wishful thinking. I want her to be my wife so badly, it hurts. I don’t want another woman for as long as I live.
“I think that was his plan. If you didn’t find love, then he was going to make you.”
“He didn’t even give me time!” I shout, slamming my fist on the table.
Gwen gasps and clears her throat. I see the sheen of tears in her eyes, but she does well to keep them at bay. I hate it. I hate that I am the reason for her sadness and her broken heart, but I just don’t know a way to fix this.
“I don’t know, buddy. I’m just doing my job.”
“Yer job fucking sucks. Shite, I might as well pack up the bar. Damn it!” I yell, running my hands through my hair.
“I hate to drop information and go, but I have to meet a client in thirty minutes. I had to drop this off now because I’m going out of town for a few days.”
“Yer just dropping off the fact I need to find a bride in order to keep me bar and now ye running off?”
“I think I’m going to be sick.” Gwen rushes to the bathroom and the muted sounds of her tossing cookies can be heard on the other side of the door.
Anthony rushes over to the door and knocks. “Gwen? What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“I'm just fine. I’ll be out in a minute.” She hurls again.
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