The Wedding Pact (The O'Malleys #2)(46)

He ignored the way the bartender’s hands shook as he poured a healthy glass and passed it over. James didn’t say thanks—just took the glass and retreated to his customary booth in the back. From here he could see everyone in the place. He sipped his drink as they slowly relaxed, and conversation started back up.

Good. He might scare the shit out of them now, but they weren’t completely crippled by it. When his old man came into a room, no one spoke until he left it again. James didn’t like to think about what he had to have done in order to command that kind of fear.

Because he already knew.

He checked his phone again. Nothing. This was so damn stupid. James shook his head and downed half his whiskey. He should just track her ass down and make sure she was okay—except that was stalking, and he’d already crossed too many lines when it came to Carrigan. He couldn’t drop everything and go rushing to her side when that wasn’t what she’d asked him to do. There had to be a line somewhere.

He set his phone aside and concentrated on the whiskey in his glass, letting the low conversation from the pub roll over him. She’d call if she needed him. Simple as that. He just had to make sure he didn’t drop the ball next time she did.

If she called again.





Chapter Thirteen


Carrigan checked her phone for the twelfth time in five minutes. There was no way around it. Not only had James not called her back since the first time, but Kellen O’Neill was late. Extremely late. Over thirty minutes late.

She should have known after the conversation with her mother that the day was only going to go downhill from there, but the puppy had been so eager over the phone that she hadn’t really thought he’d stand her up. Another glance at her phone. Yeah, still late. She heaved a sigh. She should just go home. Dmitri had already offered her a legitimate choice, even if it was the best option of a group of truly shitty options. She didn’t really need Kellen O’Neill.

But she didn’t stand up and leave.

A few more minutes. She eyed her empty glass. Another martini wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t like she was driving. She smiled at the nervous-looking waiter and ordered. He thinks I’m being stood up, too. Wonderful. More to keep her hands busy than anything else, she texted James. Hey stranger.

As soon as she pushed send, she regretted it. He hadn’t answered her call earlier. Yes, he’d called back—a call she’d ignored—but…really, she didn’t have a reason to be hurt or pissed or anything. They’d had sex twice, but they were hardly friends. She shouldn’t even be texting him right now. Another glance around the restaurant proved that Kellen was, in fact, still late.

Her phone rang in her hand, startling her so bad, she almost dropped it. “Hello?”

“I’m sorry I missed your call earlier.”

She was, too. Though it had allowed her to get through lunch without the distraction he offered—both a blessing and a curse, as it turned out. What the hell was she going to do about Dmitri? She straightened the fork next to her plate. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is. I told you I’d be there and then I fucked up. I’m sorry.” He went on before she could answer. “What are you doing right now?”

“Being stood up, I think.” She forced a laugh.

“Another date with a guy from that list?”

“Yes.” This was what her life had been reduced to—and it hadn’t exactly been a dream to begin with. She was waiting for a man her father approved of, with the sole purpose of marrying her off, while on the phone with a man that was the enemy as far as the O’Malleys were concerned. “Apparently he doesn’t find Ciao to his liking.”

Something rustled on the other end of the phone, and she thought she heard a door slam. “He’s a fool.”

“I’m not arguing that. I’ve giving him ten more minutes, and I’m bailing. Right now a date with my bathtub sounds like heaven.”

James growled. “I like the picture that brings to mind. Bubbles?”

“Absolutely.” She smiled and nodded her thanks to the waiter who brought her drink replacement. “Mine smell like roses and suds up like crazy.”

“Damn, lovely, I’d like to see that.”

He wouldn’t be able to, though. He wasn’t welcome in her house, and she sure as hell wasn’t going back to his anytime soon. Unlike Teague, James didn’t keep an apartment somewhere outside the territory of their families. She let herself imagine what it’d be like to have him in a bed, to be able to cozy up with him on a couch while watching a movie, to do any of the thousand little things that people took for granted. It would never happen.