I unfolded myself to dangle my legs over the counter’s edge, making sure to keep my bloody hand over the sink. Keir dug through the cabinets until he located some first-aid supplies, then washed my hand. I watched as he poured peroxide over my knuckles and gingerly patted my hand dry.
I felt like an empty eggshell, my insides drained clean until I was perfectly hollow.
Until Keir lifted my hand and gently blew on my knuckles. He only meant to dry my skin, but I swore I felt his breath swell in my lungs, filling me with warmth.
“Where are we?” I asked as he wrapped gauze around my hand.
“A friend’s place down at Virginia Beach.”
“Virginia! We’re at the beach? How did we get here?” I strained my ears to listen for the water but heard nothing.
“Yes, the beach is right outside,” he confirmed with a hint of amusement. “We flew down earlier today. You were out cold, so you definitely wouldn’t remember.”
“Please tell me you didn’t stuff me in a suitcase.”
“It was that or Weekend at Bernie’s style flying with an unconscious woman in a wheelchair.” He smirked. “We have a jet, Rowan. You slept comfortably on a leather sofa the whole time.”
Hearing him say my name made me recall screaming at him back at his place, demanding he not call me Miss Alexander.
A new set of tears dripped from my lashes down to my shirt. His shirt.
He must have noticed because he stilled, then lifted my face to his, silently demanding an explanation.
“I’m so sorry … for all of this. For yelling at you. For breaking things, things that don’t even belong to you.” I gestured to the scraps of mirror still strewn about the floor. “For getting myself into trouble. For everything.” My voice had completely dried up by the time I finished my apology.
Keir swept my tears away with his thumb. “It’s nothing that can’t be fixed.” His gaze drifted to my hair, his fingers slowly weaving their way through the messy strands. “That’s why you dye your hair. And the makeup, too?”
I nodded. “You took it off.”
“I thought I was supposed to. Aren’t women supposed to take off their makeup before they go to bed?”
A small chuckle tickled my lungs. “Yeah, I just wasn’t expecting it. I only use a tiny mirror to put on my makeup, so I never see the whole picture. If I happen across a mirror during my day, the hair and makeup keep me from seeing her. When I walked in here, it was like she was standing there waiting for me. I sort of lost it.”
“I’m only going to say this once, then we’re going to grab some food in the kitchen and sit on the back porch. You need to talk to someone about all that. A professional.” His tone was kind but firm.
I didn’t argue with him. How could I? Clearly, I wasn’t coping as well as I’d thought. In fact, ever since Keir burst into my world, every single day had been further proof just how poorly I’d dealt with the loss of my sister.
“Bandage is secure, and we’re clear of the shards, so you should be safe to walk.”
I scooted off the counter and followed him to the bedroom. It was a beautiful space decorated in pale beige, blue, and white in honor of the magnificent landscape right outside the window. I hadn’t even noticed the shoreline through the sheer drapes when I’d first woken. I’d been too upset and disoriented.
“Bundle up. It’s warmer than back home but still cool.” He motioned to one of the suitcases that had been brought to my parents’ house. Hopefully, it wasn’t the one filled with dance gear and dildos.
Glad to see your sense of humor isn’t as dead as me.
My breath hitched. Hey, you.
No crying. You’ve done enough of that today. Get something warm on and go talk with that gorgeous hunk of a man.
I bit down on a smile and shook my head as I opened the bag and sorted through its contents.
“Something funny?” Keir had put on a long-sleeved Henley to go with the joggers he was already wearing.
“Uh, I feel like telling you will make you think I’m crazy, but considering you probably already think that, I suppose there’s no harm.” I slid a heavy hoodie over my head. “Ivy sort of lives in my head. I talk to her, and she talks to me.”
“You’re right. That’s pretty fucked up.”
I whipped my head around to gape at him, shocked he’d be so harsh, only to find him grinning the most delectable, playful smile I’d ever seen.
“Oh, that was just mean,” I said in a mock pout, tossing one of my shirts at him.
“Damn, my wife does like to throw things.”
All levity evaporated as our eyes locked. Wife. We were married. I wasn’t sure how legal it was, but I also wasn’t sure that mattered.
Keir cleared his throat. “Let’s eat. You’ll need some food in your system to clear out the drugs.”
Keir rummaged through the fridge and put together a selection of meats, cheeses, and fruits for lunch then joined me at the bar.
“You know, considering you’re a big-bad gangster, you’re pretty good at taking care of people—and I don’t mean in the six-feet-under way, although you may be good at that, too. I’d prefer not to find out.”
“I’m just a man, nothing more, nothing less.”
“Mmm, I’m not so sure about that.”
“No?”
I shook my head, plucking a grape into my mouth. “You have this larger-than-life quality.”
He huffed. “Wait till you meet my dad. He fills a room like no one else I know.”
It occurred to me that I knew nothing about his family. “Tell me about him and your mom. Do you have siblings?”
He nodded. “Three, all younger. My brother, Quinn, then the girls, Nora and Maeve. She’s the baby, just turned twenty-four.” Baby? She was two years older than me.
My eyes lifted to him. “So … how old are you?”
His gaze met mine. “Thirty-two.”
Wowza, ten years older. That’s pretty hot, Ro. Think of all the things he can teach you.
Blood rushed to my cheeks.
“That a problem?” he asked, though his voice didn’t carry any concern.
“Nope.” I popped the P.
“Good. Grab those plates and let’s go outside.” He picked up the remaining dishes and walked to an enormous sliding glass door.
We set the plates on a double-wide chaise lounge overlooking the shoreline. A small row of grass-covered dunes lay between us and the waves, but the house sat high enough to see over them. The sky was overcast, and the churning water a soupy brown, but it was still beautiful. The steady rolling of the waves was a cathartic reminder that life was more than the sum of my current problems.
We sat together in the lounger, my crossed legs occasionally making contact with his thigh and sending a burst of tingles up to more intimate areas. We ate and watched the gulls. Some came close in hopes of scavenging our leftovers. I could hardly wrap my brain around the fact that I was sitting on a beach, eating lunch with my new husband.
Keir Byrne. Did that make me Rowan Byrne? I supposed so, but the whole thing felt so odd. How long would it last? Surely, he hadn’t meant for this to be permanent.
“Keir?” I ventured, breaking our comfortable silence.
“Hm?”
“Why did you do it?” I didn’t explain what I meant. I didn’t have to. He knew. Once the words were out, however, a part of me wished I could gobble them back down. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear his answer. I felt like a grade-schooler asking a playground crush if they liked me. It seemed absurd, but so was my entire situation.
“The man you saw with Alexander—the man with the scar—is incredibly dangerous. The only way to make him think twice about touching you was to claim you. That way, he has the government and the Irish to contend with if something happened to you.” His answer made perfect sense, so why did it sting? What exactly had I been expecting him to do, profess his unrequited love for me?
He wanted to keep you safe. That says something, right?
“I suppose I should thank you. I can’t imagine you wanted to find yourself married out of nowhere.”
“It definitely wasn’t how I saw things unfolding,” he murmured, eyes on the horizon.
Another zing of pain confirmed my suspicion. I wanted Keir to want me. Not just to protect me or feel a duty toward me, I wanted him to see me as more.
I was a piece of work.
“So why bring me here?” Our ruse hadn’t exactly required a makeshift honeymoon.
“Give you time to process and for word to get out.” He slid a piece of cheese into his mouth, totally oblivious to the impact his words would have.
The food in my stomach turned rancid.
News of our wedding would be in all the papers and blasted on social media. Governor’s Daughter Wed in Shotgun Ceremony.
Stetson would be crushed.
I stood on shaky legs. “Um, where’s my phone? I need my phone.”
“In your purse next to your suitcase.”
I nodded numbly. “I’ll be back … I just need to…” I wandered back inside without finishing my thought. My phone thankfully hadn’t died and showed several missed texts from Stetson from yesterday asking about plans for the weekend. Nothing after that. He knew. I knew in my gut that he knew.
God, what a shit thing to do to someone. I felt absolutely wretched.
My heartache drew me back to the bathroom where I approached the vanity, this time prepared to confront the girl in the mirror. It was the first time since I was a little girl that I’d looked at that face. Really looked.
“I’m sorry, V,” I whispered to her. “I hope you understand everything I’ve done—that I couldn’t leave her there alone. I hope you understand.”
I could have sworn the reflection lift her hand toward me.
I would have done the same, Ro. You did good.
“Love you, sis,” I said with tears in my eyes.
Love you more.
