Page 58 of Beer & Broomsticks

She grinned and patted the spot next to her. “Come back to bed, love. We’ve an entire night ahead of us.”

He dove atop her, and she giggled as he felt up all the right places.

CHAPTER24

As Ruairí listened to Bridget whisper-quiet snore, he stroked the tangle of curls back from her face with a butterfly-soft touch, never taking his eyes from her, unable not to stare. Never had he thought this moment would come, and his heart was almost full to bursting. Only a declaration of love from her lips would’ve made it better, but he understood she wasn’t ready yet, and might never be. If it came to that, he’d have to find a way to accept her decision to keep her heart locked away.

Never was there a woman as stubborn or determined as Bridget O’Malley. Never one so beautiful and sure of herself. One so honest and true. But he loved her in addition to all those qualities. Her light shone brighter than anyone else’s, and it never failed to entrance him. Hers was the beacon that guided him home and would never go out.

“Why are you still awake?” she murmured, her voice husky from sleep.

“I’m treasuring this moment, so don’t spoil it.” He shifted to drop a kiss on her temple, taking the sting out of his comment.

She tweaked his nipple in response and triggered a deep laugh.

“Mo ghrá. De shíor.”

“You always say the sweetest things to me, even when I don’t deserve them.” Voice and expression dreamy, she gazed up at him with bright emerald eyes.

His heart stuttered at the obvious sign of her happiness. That particular shade of green he’d yet to see in seventeen years. “You deserve all the best things in life. I’d give you the moon and stars if I could.”

She snuggled down into him, her head on his chest, and he could feel her smile in response to his words. That smile, along with the contentment in her eyes, gave him hope he probably had no right feeling.

“You should try to sleep, Ruairí. We’ve a long day when we finally get to it.”

The truth of her words intruded on the spell she’d woven here in her bed. By now, Ronan should have the powers of a mighty Guardian and be recovered from the painful influx of magic imprinted on his DNA. With any luck, Loman’s ability to scry or track him through their blood would be a thing of the past since Guardians were next-level beings. Maybe then, if Loman couldn’t be defeated, Ronan would still disappear off this father’s radar and have a chance at a decent life. One without the constant threat of his mad da breathing down his neck and trying to kill him at every turn.

“Who do you think will be Ronan’s future mate?” Bridget asked, clearly on one wavelength as Ruairí.

“As long as it’s not you, I don’t give a feck.”

“It will never be me. Your cousin’s too pretty for my peace of mind, to be sure.” She rolled her head slightly to meet his eyes, giving him a tender smile. “And perhaps I’m satisfied with the man in my bed.”

Stroking the silky skin of her shoulder, he thought about her question. “I don’t know if Ronan has cared for anyone but Rebecca Thorne. But I can’t see her abandoning Hoyt and Piper to run off with Ronan after all this time.”

“No. I met the woman, and she’s mad for her husband. I think she cares about Ronan, but not to the degree she loves Hoyt.”

“The Goddess must have another picked out for him. It should be interesting to see how this unfolds.”

Bridget’s expression turned to one of quiet contemplation. “Yeah,ifwe live through the upcoming battle.”

“We will,mo ghrá.The Fates aren’t cruel enough to part us when we are close to finding our way back to each other again.”

The arm around his waist tightened, but she didn’t reply. They both understood what was at stake should Loman get the upper hand.

“I do love you, Ruairí,” she finally said. “I’m still struggling to find my footing, though. Be patient, yeah?”

Since no other words needed to be said, he snuggled her close, resting his cheek against the crown of her head. He would die for this woman if it came to it, and he needed this one perfect moment should he be forced to await her in the otherworld.

“Bridg, if anything should happen to me, if—”

She stretched and covered his mouth. “No. Don’t put a thought like that out there. Thoughts are things. They’re a living energy, and if you should put it out in the world, it could happen. We’ll only believe in a perfect outcome, you and me.”

He nodded and kissed her palm. If she wanted him to collect unicorn horns and chase their rainbow farts, then that’s what he’d do. Whatever it took to make her happy and whole.

“You have to argue with me on occasion, Ruairí, or this relationship will be boring as feck,” she said tartly.

He laughed and rolled on top of her, sighing his pleasure when she wrapped her legs around his waist and tilted her pelvis toward him. “I’m a lover, not a fighter,mo ghrá.” Rubbing his erection against her silky wetness, he kissed the hollow of her throat. “Or have you forgotten?”

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