He didn’t ask where I wanted to go. He just drove. And when we parked in front of McGinty’s, Dad’s favorite Irish pub, I felt the tears burning the back of my eyes and rolling down my cheeks.
Inside he ordered two shots of Dad’s favorite Irish whiskey, and without saying a word, he lifted his shot in honor of Dad and kicked it back. This was exactly how Dad would have wanted people to remember him. Not wearing black, eating casseroles and whispering in soft voices. He’d have wanted us to have a drink, laugh, dance and be merry. To celebrate he had lived and not mourn that he had died.
For an hour we silently celebrated my dad. I wasn’t in the mood to talk and he seemed to understand that, but then he always had been able to read my moods so easily. His head turned and those pale eyes found mine. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Thank you for this.”
“He was a good man.”
“The best.”
“Are you ready to go home?”
“Please.”
Damian parked his car in front of my building. I had been about to thank him for the ride, but he was out of his car and walking around to me. That gesture brought back countless memories.
Silently we walked to my apartment, but when I unlocked the door I didn’t want him to go. “Do you want to come in?”
“I shouldn’t.”
It was late, I was highly emotional and all those old feelings were stirring a longing I knew better than to feel. It was probably best we ended the night now.
“Thank you for the last hour. It was exactly what I needed.”
He was so perfectly still and yet he studied me like I held the answers to the secrets of the world. He was tall, six foot six, and with the body he had now he was imposing, formidable, and yet all I felt was safe. His eyes were hot, emotions swirling through their depths, but what he was thinking I couldn’t say. I was about to back into my apartment when his big hands framed my face. He curled his back, lowered his head and kissed me. Not a chaste kiss, a hot, demanding and hungry kiss—a kiss that curled my toes and weakened my knees. He kissed me like he would die if he didn’t, and I kissed him back because I had missed this.
As quickly as it started, he ended it…pulling away from me and taking a few steps back. I waited for the apology, one that would have pissed me off, but he didn’t apologize. He just looked at me, like he was searching for something.
Quite abruptly he said, “Take care, Thea.” He walked away and I so wanted to call him back but I didn’t. Nothing had changed; his life was thousands of miles away from mine. I watched him go, knowing he would always be the one I compared every other man to.
It took effort to walk away, especially when every cell in my body wanted to take her up on her invitation. I wanted to spend hours getting lost in her, wanted to remove the pain and heartache that burned so brightly in her eyes. I wanted to love her enough to heal some of the hurt she felt. Instead I walked blindly down the stairs and out the door as I reached for my cell and called Cam.
“Where are we meeting?”
“My place.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
Edward Ahern had been like a father to me and through his example I learned that family wasn’t the vile shit I had grown up with. That family was synonymous with love and laughter and though there was also pain, when dealt with together it was manageable. He was the kind of man I wanted to be one day. And he had been Thea and Cam’s father, their patriarch. And he was gone. Taken from them in the blink of an eye. What was worse, Cam suspected there was more to Edward’s death. That it hadn’t just been a random act. And that meant there was potential trouble brewing, trouble that could land at Thea’s feet or Rosalie’s…even Cam’s.
He requested my help to keep what was left of his family safe and together. I didn’t even think twice. I was resigning my commission and coming home because they were my family too.
In the morning, I worried when I went home. Mom was having a really difficult time and seeing her destroyed was so hard and what was worse was no amount of consoling helped. It made me feel so helpless.
It hurt coming home, knowing that Dad wasn’t there and wouldn’t be again. I understood Mom’s pain, could totally sympathize. As soon as I pushed open the door, I smelled bacon and followed my nose to the kitchen. Mom stood in front of the stove but she turned to me when I entered.
“I thought I heard the door. You’re just in time. I’m making breakfast.”
Who was this person and where was my grieving mother? The back door opened and Cam and Anton appeared.
“The wood is stacked. Hey, sis.”