𝅘𝅥𝅮 𝄠 Like I Can – Sam Smith
THE MOMENT CONOR sends me Gracie’s location, I call Hudson and light it out of my apartment.
I don’t care that when I get to the lobby, Fryd and Hanna are arguing with Quentin, the doorman. I barely even notice until he shouts, “Mr. Donnghal, sir! Do you know these people?”
My head whips to the side in annoyance, but when I catch sight of Gracie’s folks, I pause but only long enough to snap, “I have no idea why you’re in New York but it had better be to reconcile with Gracie. I’ve already had it up to here with the Bukowskis thinking that I’m not the lucky one in this relationship tonight.”
Fryd chides, “Liam! Not talk Hanna like that!”
I’m about two seconds from flipping him the bird. All I say, however, is, “Shame you didn’t stop Hanna from treating your own daughter terribly.”
Hanna flinches. “I came to apologize to her, Liam.”
“You did?” After the conversation I just had with the boys she fed her narrative to, I eye her dubiously. “Really?”
“Yes. You not coming for my birthday… not answering my call on yours… it made me see how seriously you were taking this. I-I didn’t—”
“I have to go stop Gracie from realizing she’d be better off by dumping me, Hanna. Something that’s only a risk because your dumbass sons told her she wasn’t good enough for me while they tried to defend you.
“While I’m gone, you need to stop stuttering and work out exactly what you’re going to say to her to make her realize that she’s a valid and important member of your family.” Uncaring that Quentin is eavesdropping, I continue, “I’d invite you up but I fully intend on bringing Gracie back home and proving how much I love her and I don’t think any of us are comfortable with you hanging around in my apartment when that happens.”
Hanna flushes but Fryd snorts. “Son, go get girlie. What are waiting for?”
Hanna whacks him on the stomach. “Fryd!”
“What?” He shrugs. “I saw writing on wall years ago. I not know why you all surprised.”
Shocked he figured out my feelings for her but glad he did, I slap him on the shoulder and tell him, “Good man, Fryd. I’ll call you tomorrow, Hanna, and tell you when Gracie’s ready to see you.”
Fryd interrupts my thoughts with: “She make big apologies. I already spanked her—”
“Fryd!” Hanna shrieks.
“Jesus Christ, I didn’t need to know that,” I mutter, deciding to get out of there before I’m scarred for life even more.
Hanna already looks like she’s about to melt into the ground, and I don’t blame her.
Waving at them as I depart, I find Hudson waiting outside.
Each mile is torture.
If Declan lived closer, I’d have run to his place, but instead, I just white-knuckle it as we finally make our way there.
When his brownstone is in my line of sight, I jump out of the SUV and run to the door, slamming my fist on it until someone shows up.
That’s when it opens.
And Gracie’s standing there.
Right there.
IN MY FUCKING JERSEY.
I don’t give her the chance to speak, don’t spoil this by messing it up with anything I might say. She’s heard too many words today—she needs action—so I haul her into me and hug her.
Tight.
So tight that I know she’ll never be able to figure out where I finish and she begins because that’s how we’re going to be.
For-fucking-ever.
As I hold her, she sobs against my chest, nonverbally describing how devastating the day has been for her. Gracie’s not a crier, but this has been a special kind of hell—I know that without her telling me what her brothers said. Just dealing with the aftermath of it was bad enough and they were trying to support me, so I can’t even imagine how traumatizing that was for her.
Over her shoulder, I see Aela watching us, a soft smile on her lips. That’s when I notice another girl there too—Victoria? If memory serves, Brennan and Eoghan’s sister-in-law.
With both of them smiling at me, it could be creepy, but mostly, I realize it’s just confirmation that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
I don’t know if this is the right place or the right time, but I’m done with gatekeeping the words.
Aela and Victoria are about to be Gracie’s family so it’s fine if they overhear.
“I love you,” I whisper in Gracie’s ear. “I’m the lucky one. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you—”
She jerks back at that. Slaps my shoulder. “Shut up and stop talking smack about the love of my life!”
Fuck.
Just, fuck.
What’s that making my eyes prickle?
“You love me?” I croak. “I thought you were going to break up with me.”
“Screw that,” she growls. “That was never what this was about.”
“Then why didn’t you come home? Or just come to me, period? Why didn’t you answer your phone?” I snap, gripping her shoulders—I swear I’m about two seconds from shaking some sense into her.
“My cell is a goner.” Then, she tacks on with a grimace, “Do you understand how isolated I am, Liam? Before we went public, before you came into my life, I literally locked myself away.
“I have no friends. None. The ones I thought I had were from work and they let me down the second they knew who you were and who was related to me.” She presses her hand to my cheek. “I don’t want you to be like me. I want you to have people who love you in your life. My brothers do. They’re idiots, but they do. I was just trying to protect you from arguing with them and making things worse.”
“They did come to our apartment,” I say. “But with or without you there, we argued. That was always going to happen. I told them to get the fuck away from me with their bullshit.”
“Yay!” Victoria cheers from the background.
Aela claps. “Totally! That’s how it’s done!”
Gracie turns around and mutters, “You guys. You’re not supposed to be listening in to this conversation.”
“I kind of live here,” Aela drawls with a chuckle.
Victoria shrugs unapologetically. “I wanted to see what he’d do.” She waves. “But I’ll leave you to it.”
Aela grins. “If you’ll just close the door on your way out, I’ll let you kids make up on your own too.”
“I’ll make sure the latch is on,” I tell her with a smile.
“Thank you.” Aela tips her head to the side and informs Gracie, “You’re not alone anymore, babe. From the look in his eye, you’re going to be an O’Donnelly sooner than I thought.
“So, just FYI, I also need more friends in my life. I know how it feels to be betrayed, for different reasons than yours, but it still hurts.”
“It does,” Gracie croaks.
Aela shoots her a half-smile. “See you later, friend.”
Gracie waves at her sheepishly. “Bye… friend. I’ll call you sometime this week and we can get your hair dyed purple.”
Aela grins. “Can’t wait.”
As she makes a retreat, I snort. “You two are so cute.”
Gracie whips around to glower at me. “I’m not cute.”
“You are,” I argue, cupping her chin so I can tilt it backward for a kiss. “And you’re even cuter in my jersey.”
If my voice meandered into a growl at that then it can’t be helped.
“You like it?”
“I do. Where the hell did you get it from?”
“Aela gave it to me.”
“Then I owe Aela.”
Gracie’s smile shifts from nervousness to smugness. “Yeah, you do.”
“It means what I think it means, right?” I ask, just making sure that we’re on the same page here.
Her chin tips up even higher than it did with my help. “That you’re mine? Yeah. It does.”
My grin is wicked. “I like the sound of that.”
“Just so you know,” she admits, “I was on my way to you because… screw them.”
I wink at her. “No thanks.” Still, her words have me pressing a soft, grateful kiss to her lips before I whisper, “You’d better not be changing your hair color. Blue all the way, bébé.”
Her cheeks practically glow. “I just need a trim.”
“Good,” I rasp, sliding my hand through the silky locks and wrapping the ponytail I make around my wrist. “I think Aela asked on my behalf but…”
“She did?”
“Yeah, but it’s not the same without me doing the proposing…” Her eyes widen. “Gracie, will you marry me?”
“You might regret asking me. I doubt I’ll be a normal wife.”
“That’s not the threat you think it is,” I counter, pushing my forehead back onto hers.
Her soft chuckle tells me I answered correctly.
I grin and raise her hand to my lips. “I’d be uber romantic and have a ring all ready, but I know better than to choose something for you.”
“You really do know me,” she wails, her arms sliding around my neck as she hugs me fiercely. “I fucking love you, Liam Francis Donnghal.”
“And I fucking love you, Gracie Agnieska Bukowski.” Then, in her ear, I murmur, “I’ve wanted you to be mine for a long goddamn time, Gracie, and now I’m never letting you go.”
