by Amy Olle
“Get your filthy hands off my sister, Irish.”
“Never,” Leo said.
At the fierce snarl that was his refusal, she gasped. Her mind slow and fuzzy, she struggled to grasp the meaning of his words and touches. Even the fact of his presence in her apartment befuddled.
The man sitting on Aron’s chest shot Leo a sidelong look. “You know, I think I’m starting to see the appeal of opening our own business.” A lopsided grin pulled up one corner of his mouth. “Chicks dig bodyguards, am I right, fellas?”
“That’s my sister, jackass.” Owen’s growl held no bite.
While Owen stood over the prone body of her attacker, one of the other two men who had burst into her home leaned over the unconscious victim.
As he peered down at the prostrate form, a lock of his black hair fell across his forehead. “What happened to him?”
A wicked smirk split Owen’s face. “Hockey stick.”
The man returned Owen’s smile and one eyebrow lifted when he looked at Leo. “I think you broke his jaw.”
Absent remorse, Leo shrugged. “Whoops.”
The last unknown man in the room snickered.
With Leo’s steady help, Prue climbed awkwardly to her feet. His hand under her elbow, he walked with her to the dining table where she dropped heavily into a chair.
She frowned at the gaggle of men filling her living room. “Who are you people?”
Owen pointed to the man sitting on Aron’s chest. “Claymore and Gideon.” He gestured to the black-haired man before singling out the last stranger. “And Special Agent Watts.”
She had no idea how they all came to be here and was about to ask them when, beneath Claymore, Aron moaned.
Leo swung toward the sound. A nasty scowl on his pleasant features, he scooped his hockey stick off floor and crossed to him in two ground-eating strides. Pressing his foot to Aron’s chest, Leo wedged the blade of the hockey stick under his chin.
Suddenly alert, Aron stared up at him with wide eyes. “Whatever she told you, it’s a lie.” His voice rasped with the pressure Leo applied to his throat. “I swear. She’s insane. She needs help.”
A slash of painful mortification sliced through Prue.
“I admit the whole thing sounds outrageous,” Leo admitted. “Especially to those of us who know you. I mean, it’s hard to believe you, of all people, are capable of organizing an elaborate criminal enterprise.”
Aron balked. “Fuck you. I founded a billion-dollar company.”
“That you almost ran into the ground,” Owen muttered.
Fury seethed in Aron’s cold eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Those days are over, King,” Leo goaded. “Now you’re nothing but a Mafia pawn.”
Gideon snorted. “Shh. Don’t tell him. I think he thinks he’s one of them.”
“I’m not one of them, I’m the boss of them, you fucking piece of shit.” Aron lifted his head, straining against his confines. “They don’t whip their ass without my permission.”
“Nah, I don’t buy it,” Claymore chimed in. “If that were true, you would’ve sent someone else here to clean up this little loose end.” He wiggled his fingers in a gesture that indicated Prue. “But here we all are.”
“I did send someone else,” Aron fumed. “But he couldn’t get the job done, so I had to do it myself.”
“I don’t know about anyone else, but I would love to hear more about that.” Agent Watts removed his suit coat to reveal his Kevlar vest marked with the bright yellow letters FBI.
Alarm flashed across Aron’s face, then the reality of what he’d just admitted to sank in. He dropped his head onto the hardwood floor with a thud.
“Damn, we’re good.” Claymore smiled. “What should we call ourselves?”
When the police had gone, and they’d briefed Special Agent Watts on everything they knew about Aron King’s activities, Leo turned to Prue.
He held out a thumb drive to her.
Her expression questioning, she took the device from him.
He tipped his head toward the FBI investigator. “It’s your work on there. All of it.”
She frowned down at the stick a moment, but when she lifted her head in the next, a smile touched her lips. Biting it back, she handed the flash drive off to the federal law enforcement agent.
Claymore and Gideon walked out with Watts, but Owen paused at her apartment door.
He fixed Leo with a hard stare. “After you.”
Leo remained where he belonged—at Prue’s side. “I’m staying.”
A dark scowl rumpled Owen’s face. He opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut tight without uttering a word.
Leo held his friend’s gaze. “You’re a good brother, and you’ve been a better friend to me than I deserve. Say or ask me anything you want.”
“Thanks, but I only want to hear from my sister.”
Both men pivoted to Prue.
Wariness filled her blue eyes when she searched Leo’s face. Though he understood it, he hated that she doubted him. Hated that he’d given her every reason to distrust him. It wasn’t easy, but he allowed her assessment of him, without the barricades and the pretenses. With nothing but truth between them.
Another odd look flitted across her features, but she offered her brother a reassuring smile. “It’s okay.”
Owen hesitated but eventually stepped through the door, pulling it softly closed behind him.
In the quiet apartment, she had difficulty meeting his eyes. The red mark on her cheek hadn’t begun to swell, allowing him reason to hope that it wouldn’t.
“How does your head feel?”
“It hurts a little.”
The urge to haul her into his arms was overwhelming, but her peculiar expression stopped him. “This time I’m going to insist we get you checked out at the hospital.”
She didn’t argue. “First, will you tell me how… why are you here?”
“I miss you.” At the soft hitch in her breathing, he frowned. “Why does that surprise you?”
“It’s not what I expected you to say.” Her voice softened.
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know.” Pink touched her cheeks. “That you’d been tracking Aron and wound up here when he did, or that you needed me to talk to Agent Watts.”
“All that’s true, I suppose, but I came for you, Prue.” He took a small step closer to her. “I’m staying for you. Only you.”
She studied him with that quizzical, confused expression on her face, almost as though she didn’t recognize him.
It struck him then that, in fact, she didn’t know him. He wasn’t the same person she’d left on that island. Since the last time they saw each other, he’d changed. He’d changed because of her. She’d given him a reason to change, a second chance, and by God, he was going to make the most of it.
To start, if he was going to convince her to spend the rest of her life with him, he’d better introduce himself.
He faced her squarely. “My name is Leo Aidan Nolan and I have four older brothers.”
Confusion puckered her brow.
“We were born in Ireland, but after our mom died, we came here to live with our uncle. On the island. I was five years old at the time. Our dad was pretty much a piece of shit. A convicted felon, and a drunk. Most of the time, he was not a very nice person. He died a couple of years ago.”
Softness rippled across the pools of her blue eyes.
“I’ve never been bitten by a shark.”
The corners of her mouth pinched.
He pushed out a sharp breath from deep in his lungs. “Six years ago, I was assigned to security detail for a TV news network. I met a woman, Lauren, and I bought the house for her.”
Words abandoned him then. He dragged a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts after losing the thread of what he was trying to say to her. He stared at the floor in her apartment so long he feared she’d grown impatient wa
iting for him to speak and wandered away.
“We had a little girl,” he whispered. “A daughter.”
On the floor, her feet came into his view, and he lifted his head.
“Rose,” he croaked. “Her name was Rose. But she died.”
“Leo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know….” She eased closer and laid her palm on his chest, over his heart. “I didn’t know.”
“Last winter, I slammed my car into a tree.” He smoothed his hand over hers, and squeezed. “When I came to and realized what I’d done and that I wasn’t dead, all I felt was… disappointment. I’ll never forget it. The disappointment was so consuming, there wasn’t room for all the other things I should’ve felt, like relief or fear. Shame that I got behind the wheel of a car in the condition I was in. That I ruined my brother’s wedding.”
She pulled his hand to her mouth and dropped kisses on his knuckles.
“Rose died because I couldn’t protect her, and nothing’s been the same since. Nothing’s been good since.” Turning over his hand, he trailed his fingers across her cheek. “Until you.”
She tilted her head toward his touch.
“I hated every moment I spent with you. Don’t frown at me, let me finish.” He inhaled a bracing breath. “When we were together… it hurt. It hurt so bad to be near you and to want you, to want to love you but knowing I couldn’t. I couldn’t let the love in because it hurt too much.
“At first, it seemed wrong, what we were doing. I felt like I was betraying them. Her.” He dragged a hand over his face, fighting the despair. “It isn’t fair that I get to experience it again, but Rose will never know what it feels like to fall in love.”
“Oh, Leo….”
Her tears spilled over and he wiped them away with the pad of his thumb.
“I thought I didn’t deserve you. That I don’t deserve to be happy. For four years, I’ve either been drunk or too depressed to feel anything, and then all of a sudden, I felt everything, all at once, and it fucking hurt.” He shuddered with the vivid recollection. “But that didn’t hurt half as bad as it did when you left.”
“I didn’t want to go.”
“I know. I made you, because I was afraid. I am afraid. I’m afraid to love you, Prue. Terrified, in fact.” His throat tightened with The Fear and he swallowed hard. “But I’m more afraid to lose you.”
“Well, lucky for you, you can’t lose me.” Through her tears, a shy smile worked its way to her mouth. “I’m yours, Leo. I’ve always been yours and I always will be, whether you want me or not.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her hair. “Thank you, Prue. Thank you for seeing something in me worth saving. If you think you can ever forgive me—”
“I forgive you.” Her arms circled his neck. “I forgive you for everything, and for all the things you’re going to do in the future that need forgiving, too.”
His laughter erupted, like the love in his heart.
He cradled her face in his hands and nibbled her plump mouth. She tasted like whiskey and sunshine. And love. She tasted like love. Sweet and heartbreaking, a little dangerous, and completely, deliciously foolish.
At their feet, Arlo weaved between their legs.
A smile in his heart, the tips of his fingers danced across her cheek. “One of these days, I want to see what you look like without a black eye.”
She winced. “Is it bad?”
“Bad?” He shook his head. “No. It’s hot.”
Color rushed into her cheeks with her obvious pleasure. “Leo?”
“Hmm?” He murmured against her temple.
“I’m having impure thoughts again,” she whispered.
“There’s only one thing to do about that.”
Passion flared in her eyes, and his body’s eager response left him light-headed.
“Not that. At least not right now.” He plucked another kiss from her sweet mouth. “Your thoughts won’t be impure when you’re my wife.”
Epilogue
A blazing orange sun hovered above the horizon. Still dressed in their wedding attire, Leo and his brothers reclined in a row of beach chairs.
Luke gaped at him. “You can’t be serious.”
Relaxed in his chair, Leo smiled. “I am.”
After the long day, his four-year-old nephew, Connor, slept in his arms. His head lolled on Leo’s shoulder, and his little body sprawled across Leo’s torso.
“You’re going to marry her?” Jack said.
“How long have you known her?” Shea wanted to know. “A couple of weeks? A month?”
“Long enough,” Leo said. He would’ve married her that first week if he hadn’t been letting The Fear make his decisions for him.
“Seems kind of sudden,” Luke observed. “Any particular reason?”
Leo’s gaze swiveled to his brother. “None.”
“He isn’t you,” Noah muttered from behind his drink.
“Then you should take some time.” Concern filled Shea’s gravelly voice. “Get to know each other better.”
“Have some fun,” Jack added. “You deserve a little fun.”
Leo gaped at him. “Dude, it’s your wedding day.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Are you really advocating sowing your oats over marital bliss, on your wedding day?”
Jack recoiled. “Not for me, no. Hell no. But we’re not talking about me and Haven. We’re talking about you and Prue. The woman you’ve known two weeks?”
“Two months.”
“Why don’t you give it another two months, then decide?”
“Jesus Christ.” Noah lurched to his feet and spun to face the four men. He jabbed a finger at Shea. “You married your high school sweetheart, for God’s sake.”
“Yeah, and see how that turned out?” Luke said. “She’s not his wife anymore.”
“She’s still my fucking wife,” Shea snarled.
In the awkward silence that descended, a smirk tugged at Luke’s mouth. “So what are you going to do about that?”
Shea dragged a hand through his hair. “This isn’t my therapy session, it’s his.”
“And you two.” Noah pinned Luke and Jack under his gaze. “You married your wives after knowing them, what, three, four months?”
“Yeah.”
“Yep.”
Noah faced Leo. “From the time I met Mina, it took me fifteen years to ask her to marry me. Don't be a dumbass like me. If you want Prue, marry her, and do it now before fate or pride or stupidity comes between you.” Noah shot a look down the row of beach chairs. “Anyone disagree with that?”
Amidst a chorus of consensus, Noah returned his focus to Leo. “Go then. Get yourself a wife.”
Leo’s smile matched Noah’s when he stood and handed Connor off to Shea. He climbed the steep wooden stairway up the side of the bluff and instantly spotted Prue on Jack’s patio, chatting with Shea’s wife-for-now, Isobel.
As if she felt his warm gaze, she looked up and right at him. She smiled.
He loved her smiles. The soft, almost shy smile, and the full-wattage one. The self-satisfied grin that curved her lush mouth after a particularly feverish bout of scribbling in her notebook, and the gentle smile she wore when she was with his family.
Then there was his favorite smile. The one that whipped color into her cheeks when she caught him watching her. When she came to him, and came for him.
With her smiles, the shadows receded. The storm winds calmed. They still blustered from time to time, but he knew all he had to do was wait it out and the sun would rise again. Her smile would reappear to banish the shadows. It always did.
He waited at the edge of the patio, and soon she disengaged from her conversation to move toward him. As he watched her cross the patio, her pace increasing the closer she drew to him, his heart ached with the best kind of pain.
She stopped before him.
“Hi.” She sounded breathless. “You okay?”
“I’m better than okay,”
he said, and it was the truth.
She’d tucked a rose behind her ear, and he reached up to finger the pale pink petals nestled in the soft waves of her dark hair. After Rose’s funeral, Lauren’s mom had insisted he take home the plant, but he hadn’t been able to so much as look at it for the devastating reminder of what he’d lost.
Over the past several weeks, the plant had heartened, and when its first buds peeked open, he smiled while tears burned in his eyes to glimpse the miracle.
Somehow, Prue had saved that pitiful, scraggy rose bush.
Just as she’d saved him.
THE END
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading MAD LOVE! I hope you enjoyed Leo and Prue’s story. If you did, and you’d like to help other readers discover this book, please consider leaving a review at Amazon and/or Goodreads.
In case you missed it, you can catch up with the other Nolan brothers in the following books available now:
Book 1, BEAUTIFUL RUIN, is Noah and Mina’s story,
Book 2, SWEETEST MISTAKE, is Luke and Emily’s story, and
Book 3, DIRTY PLAY, is Jack and Haven’s story.
Book 5 in the series, featuring Shea, is scheduled for release in 2018. If you’d like to be notified when the newest Nolan brother book is available, please add your email here and I’ll be sure to let you know when the books are released.
Finally, I love hearing from fellow romance readers! Please feel free to shoot me an email or connect online at Facebook or Twitter.
Thank you again for taking a chance on MAD LOVE.
Happy reading!
Amy
Copyright © 2017 by Amy Olle.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at the email address below.