The Wedding Pact (The O'Malleys #2)(37)

Once he got the Chevelle started and the windows defrosted, he headed back toward the city. He didn’t speak, and neither did she. James could actually feel her building up walls between them. Retreating. A part of him even understood. He’d had sex before. Hell, he’d gone out of his way to keep things at just sex in the past. It was simpler. His life didn’t lend itself to being able to build a healthy relationship—he wasn’t even sure if he was capable of it. Easier to keep things at a strictly physical level. That way both parties left satisfied, and the chance of someone getting hurt was virtually nonexistent.

That being said, this thing with Carrigan wasn’t just sex.

He’d known that four months ago, and it was only becoming clearer the more time he spent with her. He admired her fire. He liked that she never hesitated to get in his face and put him in his place if she thought he was out of line. He liked how nothing her family had done to date had broken her. Fuck, he just plain liked her.

He took the exit that would spit them out near Beacon Hill, and wound his way up to the block just down from her town house. “You want me to—?”

“This is good.” She already had the door open.

“Carrigan.” He waited for her to look back. “Next time you need to forget—or need anything, period—I’m here.”

She flinched like he’d raised a hand to her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“How much time do you have before you need to make a decision?” He kept his tone low and even, though all he wanted to do was haul her ass back into the car and get the hell out of here—spend a week lost in each other and ignoring the call of the real world.

“A month. Less than that now.”

Not long enough. Fuck, he was beginning to think that twenty years with this woman wouldn’t be close to enough. But he’d take what he could get. “Every time you go on one of these dates, the noose is going to tighten around your neck. I can help you forget, lovely. You know it and I know it.” He didn’t wait for a response, needing to get this out before she bolted. “So when the pressure gets too much to handle—and it will—call me. I’ll be there. I promise.”

She hesitated, and then shut the car door and walked away. He waited until he saw her enter a brownstone down the block, and then he put the car in gear and drove away. She’d call. She might tell herself that she wouldn’t—she might even convince herself that she was through with him—but when her back was against the wall, she’d call him again.

He was sure of it.

James headed back into Southie, the upper-crust neighborhood that Carrigan lived in slowly replaced by smaller and smaller houses, each in worse repair than the next. Even the ones that obviously had owners who cared about upkeep showed decades of wear and tear. The O’Malleys and Hallorans might fight like dogs over the bone that was Boston, but they really came from different worlds. The outward evidence of it in the neighborhoods they lived in was just the beginning.

But none of that seemed to matter when he was with Carrigan.

He forced himself to set aside the feel-good sensation being around Carrigan brought him. There was nothing he wanted more than to dwell on how amazing she’d felt squeezing his cock, and how much he wanted to get inside her again at the soonest available opportunity. But he couldn’t afford to be any more distracted right now than he already was.

And he was seriously fucking distracted.

But Ricky was waiting, and so was the real world.





Chapter Eleven


Carrigan spent the next week keeping busy and avoiding all the things she didn’t want to think about. The list was getting kind of ridiculous. She’d had a hell of a time keeping a straight face during Mass on Sunday while the priest went on about original sin. Her mind kept going back to the feeling of James’s hands on her skin and his voice in her ear. If that was a sin, she had no interest in being a saint.

She knew she should get the rest of the dates out of the way, but Monday slipped by while she wasn’t paying attention, and she spent nearly all of Tuesday with Callie, hiding out from Aileen and her last-second wedding plans. And then she blinked and it was Friday and she’d managed to get through a six whole days without picking up the phone and dialing James.

He had a lot of nerve saying he’d be there for her. She’d have to be a fool to trust him. It was more than their shared history¸ though that should be more than reason enough. She didn’t trust anyone beyond family—and she didn’t even trust her family half the time. People had a nasty tendency to put themselves first when she needed them most.