Because You're Mine (The Gallaghers)

by Layla Hagen

  “What do you want to do now?” I asked.

  “Actually, I have to go too. I have an appointment with a client.”

  “On Sunday?” Disappointment rolled through me, making me realize just how much I enjoyed being with him this afternoon.

  “Yep. The perils of running your own business.”

  “Thanks for today. I like your sisters."

  "And they like you too.”

  "So they meant it when they said I could touch base and we could go out whenever I want to?" I asked as we walked lazily to the coffee cart. The park looked less like a forest here and more like a smattering of trees against the urban landscape of glass and steel towers I remembered from photos.

  "Yes. My sisters never say anything they don't mean.”

  I ordered a cappuccino, and Ian a black coffee. I felt his gaze on me the entire time the barista prepared our drinks. After we took our cups, we sat on a wooden bench with chipped brown paint just a few feet away. I could hear the traffic in the distance.

  “This is very tasty,” I said, still feeling this unexplainable tension between us.

  “It’s my favorite coffee cart in the park.”

  “Cool! Do you have other recs?”

  “Yes. Between the two of us... I’m a much better tour guide than Isabelle."

  "Is that so?" I said, acutely aware of how close to each other we were sitting.

  "Oh yeah."

  "And why is that?"

  “You'll see.” He pinned me with that molten gaze of his. My breath caught. My heart rate sped up. How could my body react like this to him? I searched my brain for a topic of conversation before I risked turning into a tongue-tied twelve-year-old again.

  “I can see why you and Henry are friends, by the way. Your protective streak is just as strong as his.”

  “Talking about Henry... now that we’re alone, how about we negotiate that deal?” he asked, making me laugh.

  “Henry didn’t bad-mouth you, Ian. He just said that you’re a great friend... but warned me off dating you. Said you’ve never had a serious girlfriend.”

  Ian flashed me a half smile. “He’s right. And he’s warned me off too.”

  I turned toward him so fast that I nearly spilled my cappuccino. “What? My own brother bad-mouthed me?”

  “Fuck, you’re cute. No. He said that given my reputation, I shouldn’t even dare cross a line, flirt, check you out, nothing.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “I promised to keep myself in check. I thought it was going to be easy, just as I did when we went to Tahoe.”

  “What about Tahoe?” Was that my voice? It sounded strangled. My breath caught.

  “It was the first time I realized how damn gorgeous you are. And you’re even sexier now. Might have checked you out a couple of times.” He wiggled his eyebrows. I felt my face heat up. Clearing my throat, I licked my lips and straightened my shoulders.

  “It’ll be our secret,” I said, hoping he couldn’t tell how much his compliment pleased me. My brother’s warning rang in my ears, but somehow, the image of Ian, the player, didn’t match the one of Ian, the baby whisperer.

  I mentally shook myself. None of this mattered. He was my brother’s best friend, and I wasn’t going to come between them just because Ian was hot as hell.

  “Now that I’ve confessed, I don’t feel guilty anymore.” He wiggled his eyebrows again. “How about we start with a clean slate?”

  “Let’s drink to that.” I clinked my cup of coffee to his. Our fingers brushed, sending a jolt of heat through me. Holy shit! Was I on edge just from a brief touch?

  This was a bad omen for our clean slate if there ever was one.

  Chapter Three

  Ellie

  There was a cardinal rule in the kitchen: Always follow the chain of command. The chef was the most important person in the restaurant. On Point was on the Upper East Side, on the fourth floor, looking straight at some of the grand buildings from the Gilded Age. I planned to enjoy the view as often as possible outside of my shift. The kitchen had no windows, but even if it had, the pace we kept left no time for admiring the view.

  My job was pantry chef. I made cold dishes like salads and starters. I’d been a pastry chef in my last job, which honestly was easier because there wasn’t a ton of room for experimenting when it came to making pastries. The recipes had to be followed to the letter every single time. But starters were more creative. I already liked my new job.

  I started my day at ten and finished at six, then the shift changed. The other pantry chef worked from six until two o'clock in the morning. I loved the general madness of the kitchen: voices shouting orders, knives on chopping boards, the sound of oven doors opening and closing, and so on. For me, it was like a piece of exciting background music.

  It was invigorating, but as much as I loved my job, I couldn't deny that being on my feet all day was exhausting. I was even wearing ugly compression socks because they helped keep my feet from becoming too sore. At lunch, I practically inhaled a sandwich so I could get back to work. It wasn’t until the afternoon that I had my first real break.

  I went to the staff break room, a plain, small room at the back of the kitchen with a few chairs. I put my feet up, glancing at my phone. My stomach somersaulted when I noticed the text from Ian.

  Ian: How was your first day of work?

  He was checking in on me. That was so thoughtful.

  I replied instantly.

  Ellie: Tiring, but super exciting.

  Ian: What are you doing after?

  Ellie: I’m going to crash and watch Netflix.

  Ian: Do you want to grab dinner together?

  I bit my lip, considering this. I tapped my fingers on the phone, wondering what to reply. I was ridiculous. Ian was an attractive man, of course, but it wasn't like I didn't see handsome men regularly. I wanted to be friends with him and his sisters, not push him away just because he was hot. That was unfair to him. But I wasn’t going to be fun at all tonight feeling as tired as I was right now.

  Ellie: I think I’ll be too exhausted. Let’s meet later this week once I’ve had time to adjust a bit.

  Ian: Okay. If you need anything, let me know.

  I grinned, feeling giddy after I finished my break.

  As I’d predicted, I was bone-tired when I arrived at the apartment in the evening.

  “You’ve got a few packages,” Harper informed me. “I already took them to your room.”

  “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it,” I said excitedly. I’d ordered a curtain rod, a drill, and curtains from Amazon on Saturday evening, and they’d already delivered it all. Yes! I could start decorating my room.

  I felt full of energy as I unpacked the rod and the drill. Since I moved around a lot, I was used to assembling all sorts of furniture, though I’d only put up shelves before, not curtain rods. How difficult could it be?

  Half an hour later, my room looked like a battlefield.

  I’d bought the wrong type of drill. It was too strong for brick walls and made a giant hole. The window area was full of dust and debris, and I’d made a big mess.

  Harper laughed, looking around at the shambles. “I searched for a handyman once on Craigslist, but they’re pricey.”

  “You don’t know anyone, then?” I asked, hoping she’d found someone to do whatever it was she was looking to accomplish.

  “Nope.”

  Damn. I was in trouble and owed Harper for the damage if I didn’t get this fixed.

  I sighed, putting my hands on my hips. “Okay, I’ll think of something.”

  “Why don’t you ask the hottie who came with you the first day if he knows someone?” she suggested.

  I laughed. “Hottie?”

  “Oh, please, girl. I have a boyfriend, but I can still admire a fine specimen when I see one. And Ian is more than fine.”

  “I agree,” I replied with a blush.

  “Are you two friends with benefits or
something? It’s none of my business, but I feel like we need some sort of code. I’m over at my boyfriend’s place a lot, but I don’t want to accidentally come home when you two are all over each other.”

  “No, no. We’re just friends.” Yes, Ellie, and don’t you forget it, my inner voice screamed at me. I sighed, quickly changing the topic. “I’ll just clean up the mess I made and think about a solution.”

  I felt myself blush even more as the image of a naked Ian wreaked havoc on my senses. How would it feel to have that hot, hard body moving against mine?

  I had nothing to compare it with because I was a virgin. Yep! At twenty-three, I still had my V-card. I honestly had no idea how that happened. I’d dated in college, but I’d never wanted to have sex unless I knew the guy for some time, and none of my relationships lasted long enough. And after graduation, dating became even more difficult. One guy even broke up with me when I told him I was a virgin, claiming it was too much work. I’d felt so small.

  I wasn’t a prude, though. I had a battery-operated friend that I used on my clit (I didn’t want to lose my V-card to a rubber penis), and I was very proficient with my fingers.

  Shaking my head, I looked at my room, thinking about how to clean this place up. No more sexy thoughts about Ian. Henry said he was a player, and my brother wasn’t a liar. The last thing Ian would want would be to get involved with a virgin.

  I vacuumed the floor first before wiping the windowsill with a wet cloth. Then I lay down on the bed and scrolled through Craigslist myself, hoping my roomie overlooked someone. Harper was right. The prices were astronomical. Just as I was getting discouraged, I wondered if Ian knew a handyman who had better rates. I called him quickly, before I could talk myself out of it.

  “This is a pleasant surprise,” he said instead of hello. My whole body lit up at his husky, rich voice.

  “Hey!”

  “Did you change your mind about dinner?”

  “No, I’m spent, especially after trying to mount a curtain rod and failing. Harper looked on Craigslist, but a handyman is expensive. Do you know one that can maybe give me a friendship price?” I asked hopefully.

  Ian replied quickly, "I'll do it."

  I blinked. "Really? You want to spend an evening drilling?"

  "I want to spend the evening with you."

  I brought a hand to my belly, grinning. Was this flirty tone his idea of starting over with a clean slate?

  “Thanks, Ian. When do you have time this week?”

  “I’m always free in the evening.”

  “I’m impressed. When you went to a meeting on Sunday, I thought you might be a workaholic.”

  “Nah, some meetings are unavoidable. I accommodate clients if they only have time in the evening or the weekends, but it’s the exception, not the rule. I don’t want to let work take over my life, and I’m in a position where I can make my schedule.”

  “That’s a very cool philosophy.”

  “I just like making the most of my free time. I usually hang out with Dylan or my sisters. I’m a third wheel lately, but they pretend I’m not.”

  I liked how close the Gallaghers were. It made me miss my brother even more.

  “I’m yours whenever you want me.”

  I laughed nervously. Did he purposefully work an innuendo into every other sentence, or was this just the way he spoke?

  “Let’s do Wednesday. I finish my shift at 6:00 p.m. and can be home in half an hour.”

  “Or I can stop by your restaurant, and we can walk together.”

  Ah, more time to spend with this sexy man who proposed we start with a clean slate but somehow set me on edge with every word he spoke. What could go wrong? Possibly everything, but I just couldn’t say no.

  “Okay. I love walking. Besides, it will give you a chance to prove just how good your guiding skills are, handsome.”

  Wow, what was I doing? Was that me flirting?

  “Handsome?” he asked with a laugh.

  I sighed, licking my lips. “I’m super tired. I can’t be held responsible for anything I say. Please ignore me and forget it.”

  He laughed again, this time deeper and for several seconds. “I’ll ignore it for now, but I won’t forget it.”

  Oh, Ian, Ian.

  “So I’ll see you in two days?”

  “Yes. And Ellie? On Wednesday, I will hold you responsible for whatever you say. Or do.”

  On Wednesday, I was full of energy the whole day.

  Was it because the chef called me by name? No.

  Was it because a customer was so happy about the salad dressing that he asked for the recipe? Also no.

  Was it because I was meeting Ian later? Hell, yes.

  At the end of the day, I showered, thankful for the amenities the restaurant had for the staff because I was sweaty and smelly after a full day of work.

  I changed into a white dress that had short sleeves and reached my knees. I paired it with a light coat and black high heels and glanced at myself in the mirror. Yes, I was aware that it was a bit ridiculous to doll myself up too much, but I didn't like the clothes I wore all day in the kitchen, and I needed to feel sexy and beautiful when I was off the clock.

  I ran a hand through my hair, pouting. I washed my hair every evening, but it was already just a little bit greasy and flat from wearing my chef hat. I didn’t like washing my hair at the restaurant because I always needed a ton of hair products to tame it. I applied a bit of dry shampoo and then ran my hand through it for volume. Even though my feet were hurting, I liked that I was wearing high heels. Besides, I'd probably get to wear them for about two months before the cold weather set in, and then I'd only wear UGG boots until March.

  When I walked outside the building, Ian was already pacing around, looking every inch as delicious as I remembered. He was even more delectable in his t-shirt and tight jeans. He was even carrying a toolbox. I smiled, walking up to him, fixing my gaze on his eyes. "You’re sure you still want to be my handyman tonight?" I asked.

  Ian flashed me a half smile, pointing to his toolbox. "Friend, handyman. I'll be whatever you need me to be."

  I swallowed, licking my lips. Did he say that in a dirty way, or was I reading into everything?

  "Are you trying to get in my brother's good graces?" I asked.

  "No. I'm trying to get into yours."

  Wow. I was already close to combusting, and we'd only been together for a few minutes. This evening was off to a good start.

  Chapter Four

  Ian

  I was an easygoing guy. I played things by ear and didn’t take anything too seriously, but even I had a few rules. The most important one was—don’t mess with your best friend’s sister. And I wouldn’t cross that line.

  Especially after both Ellie and I agreed on starting over.

  I couldn’t tell why the impulse to flirt with her won over logic. Maybe because she blushed deliciously when I talked dirty. Or maybe because she seemed to light up each time we toed that line.

  "How're you liking work so far?" I asked as we strolled toward Columbus Circle.

  "It's honestly amazing. I'm learning so much, and the pace is insane. It's faster than any place I've ever worked. I'm half expecting to chop my fingers off every time I’m preparing a salad. I haven’t even finished the one I’m working on when the next order pops up—it’s crazy.” We laughed, and she added, “But the vibe in the kitchen is just incredible, and there are so many amazing chefs."

  I loved the passion in her voice.

  "My parents always tease me about my choice of career." I was sort of surprised to hear this, since Henry had the utmost respect for his little sister’s occupation.

  "Why?" I asked.

  "Because neither of them likes to cook. We lived on takeout when we were kids."

  "You lived with your mom after the divorce, right?" Somehow, I barely remembered hearing this story from Henry early on in our college years.

  She nodded. Her shoulders slumped a bit. "Yes. I wa
s spending summers with Dad but lived with Mom the rest of the year. Henry went to college not too long after the divorce, but I had six years of living in both households."

  She looked so damn vulnerable. It made me want to cheer her up.

  “Are you on good terms with your parents? I know from Henry they both remarried.”

  “Yes, I am. And after so many years, they are almost on good terms with each other too, but it’s not always easy to keep everyone happy. I also like my stepparents a lot.”

  Making her family happy was important to her. It was something we had in common. The Gallaghers were always a tight group; it was how my parents raised us. No matter how mad my sisters would get at us or vice versa, we supported one another through thick or thin. The way I saw it, the unconditional support I got from family was one of the best things in my life.

  “We’re not—”

  She yelped as I pushed her sideways in the nick of time.

  “Watch where the fuck you’re going,” I yelled after the maniac biker who had nearly run her over.

  Focusing on Ellie, I looked her up and down just to make sure she was okay. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed.

  “Are you hurt? Did he brush into you or something?”

  “I’m good. Just shocked; it happened so fast. I didn’t hear him.”

  She was leaning with her back against a wall full of neon yellow graffiti, drawing in heavy breaths. I cupped her cheek, looking at her intently.

  “It’s okay. It was just a scare,” I said, trying to reassure her. My protective side kicked in like a reflex.

  She nodded, but her body was still stiff.

  “I’ll shake it off. I just need a minute.”

  I absentmindedly stroked her cheek, touching the corner of her mouth involuntarily. Ellie exhaled sharply. Her pupils dilated. Fuck, what was I doing?