Tough Love (The Shakedown Series Book 3)

by Elizabeth SaFleur

  Instead, she’d spent long nights in his bed—under him, and on top of him, and any other way she could get. Long nights of being held so close she could barely breathe. She didn’t need oxygen. Every day that passed, she needed more of him. She’d have crawled inside him if she could have.

  Luna always closed the show with the other dancers, letting Starr dance earlier in the evening so she could turn her pregnant body in to bed early. Phee rarely came to Shakedown anymore. And as for the others? Max, Cherry, Declan, well, they’d learn soon enough she rarely returned to her own empty apartment anymore.

  Naps were a must every day to make up for the schedule—getting to him late and leaving early—but it was worth the lack of sleep.

  Her precautions hadn’t been foolproof, however. After the “Sean incident” as they’d labeled almost being caught, Carragh had rented a car for her to drive, a different one every two days. She still hadn’t seen anyone tailing her, but Carragh had been so paranoid about her being seen pulling into his driveway.

  His paranoia wasn’t completely uncalled for. She’d almost been caught not once but twice by her sisters.

  A few days ago, Starr arrived unannounced at her apartment in the morning as she was just getting home from spending the night at Carragh’s. Her sister’s pregnancy hormones must have been out in full force because she completely bought Luna’s excuse about running out for early morning coffee. It’d helped she’d picked some up on the way home.

  Phee had been harder to convince, but when she’d caught Luna not at home—at midnight on a Thursday—she’d simply said she’d had to stay at Shakedown for a costume that had to be fixed before the next night.

  Her subterfuge options, however, were limited. If her sisters ever found her not where she normally was? Shudder the thought. Cherry already watched her like a hawk, and if it wasn’t for Starr’s request that Cherry handle her baby shower—even if it was a solid five months away—Cherry might have questioned her more.

  She still did, and Luna answered truthfully.

  No, she hadn’t been inside Carragh’s limo in that last few weeks. It wasn’t a lie. She’d been driving herself to his place—much to Carragh’s dismay, but she’d insisted.

  No, she hadn’t had any more run-ins with any other MacKennas. That wasn’t a lie, either. Carragh had begun having more meetings with his father—at Tomas’ place to keep closer to the man he was planning to overthrow.

  Carragh shared all his plans with her, and she loved him for it. He didn’t keep her in the dark, like so many other men in her life.

  Except for this weekend trip that he suggested just yesterday.

  She pulled out her lip gloss. “Surely, you’ve heard enough of me talking about baby clothes.”

  “You do love to buy them.”

  “Little Starr or Nathan had to have those onesies.” Starr and Nathan’s son or daughter would be adorable in them—twenty-six in total, one for each letter of the alphabet and sporting an object to represent them, like an Apple for A.

  Carragh just smiled and squeezed her hand. “Ever think about kids?”

  “Me? Oh, someday.” Or every single damned day since Rachel had Nicolas and Starr’s pregnancy announcement. Three weeks ago, she’d have never talked about such things with a man. Now, with every day passing, her biological clock had rung out like a church bell.

  His directional signal clicked in the air. “Boy or girl?”

  “Both.”

  “Four or six?”

  She laughed. “How about starting with one?”

  “Okay.”

  He couldn’t possibly be thinking about kids. Maybe he was humoring her.

  “So, where are we exactly?” She glanced around.

  “We…” He turned into a dirt drive nearly overtaken by huge bushes on either side. “…are at my house.”

  “Another one?”

  His lips lifted in that way she loved—where a small dimple formed on his right cheek. “I bought it a long time ago. As an escape.”

  A prick of sadness in her heart went off. Under all that bravado, Carragh carried so much sadness. When he was with her, he seemed happier. At least, she thought he did.

  She craned her neck to see what lay beyond the curve in the drive. “My, you do have a lot of secrets.”

  “Yes.”

  “And I’m one of them.”

  He reached for her hand. “Do you mind?”

  “Do you mind being one of mine?”

  Neither of them answered each other’s question. She’d said she didn’t believe in secrets. Now she swam in them to protect her sisters from further pain.

  The drive turned, and a wide, sandy, grassy area spread out before them, a small white clapboard house facing the water standing in the center of the space.

  She pointed to the water. “Is that the Bay?”

  “Magothy River.”

  She’d never heard of that body of water. But then again, she didn’t get out of Baltimore much. There was so much of life she had yet to experience when she really thought about it. She and her sisters worked—a lot. Which was probably why they bought her going-to-a-spa excuse. With Starr’s belly growing and Phee’s aversion to the stage, they all had double the number of dance acts in a night.

  Luna deserved this weekend.

  She stepped out into a cool breeze. Sunlight sparkled on the dull gray water. “It’s so quiet.”

  “That’s why I like it.”

  They stood looking out over it for a long minute before he grasped her hand and pulled her toward the house. “It’s small and basic, but everything works.”

  She didn’t care so long as she got to spend more than one night with Carragh.

  The living area was small with mismatched furniture as if things were picked up at a flea market. The kitchen was on the older side with Formica countertops and appliances very similar to what she grew up with.

  “You do surprise me, Carragh.”

  “Expected more medieval antiques?”

  “Something like that. How long have you had this place?”

  “Long time. I bought it when I was 19. Five years after my mother died. It was completely run-down, but she’d have loved it.”

  “I bet she would.” She circled her arm in his. “I would have liked to meet her.”

  “I wish you could have.” He sucked in a quick breath. “How about some dinner?” He pulled out his cell phone. “I hope you like crabs. Dirty Dick’s delivers.”

  “Sounds great.”

  While he placed an order for a bushel of crabs, beer for him and sparkling water for her, she moved to the large windows facing the water. A cracked concrete pad held rusted white metal furniture—two chairs and a table. Further down the sandy-grassy back yard, the land’s edge seemed to just drop off to the water. A wood pier about twenty feet long jutted out into the water, and a rowboat was secured tightly to its side.

  She loved everything about this place. Nothing looked like it would fit with the sophisticated Carragh she knew, yet somehow, it was comforting. Like she wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around fussy antiques so beloved by Declan and Phee.

  A loud clang had her turn back to the kitchen. Carragh had rolled up his sleeves and pulled out a large crab pot and placed it on the stove. It was a sight to see. His strong forearms dusted with dark hair filling up a huge pot with water. It was oddly domestic and… normal.

  She joined him and opened cabinets to find tableware. She fished out a mismatched set of plates. One of them had little blue flowers lining the white plate. She ran a fingertip over the edge.

  He winked. “A piece of my mother’s old china.” He took the plate from her. “It survived quite a few plate-throwing incidents.”

  “They fought a lot? Your parents?”

  “I suppose they did. I remember quite a bit of broken china. My mother wasn’t the doormat people believed. She was a lot like you.”

  “Oh, I don’t think people believe I’m a doormat, rather an easy s
ex doll.”

  A visible chill broke out on his neck. “Harsh words.”

  “I can say them now and again.”

  He pulled her into him. “You shouldn’t ever have to think such things, let alone say them aloud.”

  “Did I shock you?”

  “Sadly, no.” He brushed hair from her face. “You are nothing like who I expected, Luna Belle O’Malley.”

  “Neither are you, Carragh.” For some reason, she didn’t want to say MacKenna. Probably because she didn’t feel like he belonged to that name as much anymore in her mind—just like this house didn’t seem to belong to the city version of him.

  The pot rattled a little as the steam built, so he released her to lift the lid. “Hope you’re hungry.”

  She laughed a little. “Spoken like a true man.”

  When the crabs did arrive, he began the cooking process while she put the potato salad, coleslaw, and key lime pie he’d ordered in the refrigerator. She then placed the corn muffins in the oven on “Warm.”

  “If I eat more than one of these I might not fit into my costumes when I get back.” She peered at the bundles through the little stove window.

  “When you’re pregnant, what will you do?”

  She swallowed and kept her eyes on the corn muffins. He’d said “when.”

  His hand fell to her back, so she rose to face him. He stared intently down at her. They stood like that a long minute—and it was then she realized something. She could tell what he was thinking, and he probably could tell what she was as well.

  She’d have a family—with him. And he’d do it—with her. And neither of them knew how that was possible.

  The pot rattled and threatened to boil over, and he ripped his stare away to attend to the crabs, which was probably a good thing because she wasn’t ready to face reality. Not yet.

  25

  “Come on,” he cocked his head to the back door. “Let’s go down to the dock.”

  They feasted on crabs and potato salad, and now stuffed, she could use some air. They stepped out into a cool Maryland night, tree frogs chirping, and in the distance, water lapping against the boards of the dock.

  He stopped on the concrete pad and dropped himself into one of the chairs. Luna circled behind him. She ran her fingers through his thick hair. She loved his hair. “You look tired.”

  “Mmm. If I could stay here forever, I think I would.”

  “Why don't you?”

  He captured one of her hands and brought it down to his face so he could press a kiss on her knuckles. “And leave the beauty of Baltimore behind?”

  She pulled her hand free, letting the other hand drag down his neck, his shoulder, and bicep. Then she scraped a chair closer and settled into it.

  For long minutes they watched tiny whitecaps in the water appear and disappear. Other than air moving through trees, the occasional bird, some distant boat, the silence was almost overwhelming. There was no quiet in the city—not even in the suburban outskirts. She didn’t notice how noisy her life was until that minute.

  “It’s almost time.” He turned his face to her.

  “Time for what?” But she already knew, didn’t she? She didn’t want the dream to end. They’d just gotten here.

  “It's going to get ugly.” He sighed, leaned forward, and placed his elbows on his knees. He wasn't looking at her. “When we first got together, you said one night.”

  Her heart nearly crashed to her knees. “Are you now going to say next just one more weekend?”

  He turned to look at her. His blue eyes were the saddest she'd ever seen. “I probably should.” He shook his head and returned his gaze to the concrete. “But I probably won't. When I asked you about kids—”

  “I will.” She then flushed as his gaze darted back up to his. “I mean… I want to.”

  “Would you?” They both knew what he asked. Would she with him?

  “Yes. Without a doubt.”

  “Then you need to know what you're getting into.”

  “I already know.”

  “No, you don’t, Luna.” His lips thinned. “I brought you here because I wanted you to see this house. I knew someday I may have to hide. Or hide someone. I want you to know you can always come here and no one will find you. At least not right away, and then there’d be time to make further arrangements.”

  “You mean when things get so bad your father might try to kill me?”

  “He knows I would kill him if he did that. No, it would be worse. He would… make you hurt. He would hurt everyone around you.”

  “You won't let anything happen to me. Or my sisters.”

  “That's what I'm trying to ensure. But what I’m about to do is going to need to be sudden and the first few days are going to be key. I was wondering if you'd be willing to stay here for a bit. While I handle it.”

  “You do know I have to go back to work, right?” she laughed a little. “My being here already is an issue. Starr, Phee, and Cherry, they don't really believe I'm at a spa right now. They already suspect. My absence would be noticed.”

  He nodded slowly. They really had so few options.

  “Then promise me you’ll come here when I say. Immediately.” He rose to standing.

  She stood and took his hand. “I promise.” Like hell, she’d leave him, but he seemed to need her assurance.

  She loved helping him. Being part of something larger than herself.

  He circled her shoulders, pulled her into him. “You are important to me.” He said into the top of her head.

  No man had ever said that to her before.

  “You have more faith in me than I probably deserve.”

  It then dawned on her why her father had peered into her eyes at Child Protective Services that day and not Starr or Phee’s.

  All he saw when he looked at Phee was the damage he’d caused. And when he looked at Starr, he saw her disappointment in him. But Luna? She’d looked at him like he had the capability in him to fix things. He hadn’t, but she’d believed in him back then.

  Today? She believed in the man who held her. She was a lot wiser and older now, and she just prayed her trust was well-placed. In the end, however, no matter how things turned out, she’d regret nothing.

  “You haven’t shown me the whole house yet. Like the bedrooms.”

  “Bedroom. Only one.”

  “Good. That’s all we need. For now.”

  26

  The next morning when she woke, Carragh was in the shower. So, she snuck outside to call Starr. She’d promised to check in with her sisters, and they’d never know where she was calling from. Besides, she was on a kind of rest and relaxation weekend—something they all sorely needed given the increased dance schedule and recent strains.

  Starr yawned a hello. “Are those birds in the background? Where is this place again?”

  “Eastern Shore.” She was getting too good at “just enough truth.”

  “Hey, send me a picture of the water!”

  She supposed she could. “I will. So, how are you feeling?”

  “Dead on my feet. I swear I can’t get to the second trimester fast enough.” Words she never thought she’d hear Starr utter—ever.

  “Well, you’re going to love the little T-shirt I’m bringing back for little Emmett or Emma.” They’d decided to name their first baby something retro—once again, another thing she’d never thought Starr would go for.

  “Don’t you dare. I already have more baby clothes than this child could ever wear.”

  “Okay, but only because you told me not to.” Thank God because while she was sure she could find a souvenir shop somewhere, she didn’t want to waste any time with Carragh by shopping.

  “Good thing you’re not here. We had to close. Fire in the dumpster in back.” Her voice was so nonchalant it couldn’t have been a big deal.

  “How?”

  “No idea. I swear something is different about this place. But that may just be my pregnancy hormones that are on fire.”
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  “Hey, listen, my appointment is up. Let me call you later?”

  “Sure thing. Go. Get pampered.”

  After she hung up, she snapped a photo of the lapping water and shot it off to Starr, who “hearted” it. Starr and her water…

  She headed back inside and found Carragh angrily talking on his phone and pacing, which immediately killed her thoughts of Shakedown and a simple fire that they’d probably put out with a fire extinguisher. Enough people smoked there.

  By the looks of things, smoke might come out of Carragh’s ears.

  He murmured something, then “I don’t give a fuck.” He killed the call and threw the phone onto the couch.

  Damn Sean for questioning where he was. The man knew he had a house on the Eastern Shore, just not the exact address. Something had told him to keep the location close to his vest, even from one of his oldest confidantes. They’d just been arguing too much lately.

  Things with the Monroes were taking a bad turn to boot. Shocker.

  “Something wrong?” Luna’s voice startled him.

  “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  “Carragh MacKenna, don’t you start doing that to me.”

  “Trying not to worry you.” He scrubbed his hair. “I’ve been working on buying more waterfront property.”

  She gasped.

  He held up a hand. “Not for reasons you think. It’s so my father can’t. But this latest project? Patrick Monroe is bidding for it, too. He shouldn’t be.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he and my father are trying to merge a line of businesses together. No one should be buying anything right now without the other knowing. It was part of the agreement. To keep things on a level playing field. Of course, no one does what they say among the families.”

  “The what?”

  He shook his head and held up his hand. Okay, not in a mood to explain things. She wouldn’t be in the dark, however. Not after their conversation yesterday.