Page 80 of Taming Irish

“Trust me, I’m not one of them,” I lie, pulling out a pair of jeans from my overnight bag and shoving them on. I understand his initial reaction. I’m not even mad about it. Because, in all fairness, I don’t have a right tobe.

“Makena-”

A cellphone rings, but neither of us move to getit.

“I need to tell ye something,” he says, his jaw clenching and bunching. I swear I see something akin to fear in his eyes. He roughs a hand over his jaw, then rubs his neck. “There’s…there’s thiswoman…”

My stomachsinks.

“It’s fine.” Tears burn the back of my eyes. “I get it. I’m not upset. I’m just…tired.”

Tired of fighting a losing battle. He’s not mine. Never will be. All this has ever been about is sex. But I’d let that stupid sliver of hope expand until I was blinded by what was right in front of my nose. A man who would never be more than just a chapter in mylife.

The phone starts ringing again, and Shanecurses.

“You should get that.” I walk toward the window, glancing down at the streets ofDublin.

He’s behind me, the heat of his body warm against my back, and I can see his reflection in the window, the strain in his face. I don’t doubt he hates this. There’s not a cruel bone in the man’s body. But he is what he is. A man who’ll never be satisfied. Not withme.

His voice is rough, when he says, “I need to tellyou-”

“No.” I turn toward him, ignoring his nakedness, and how easily he wears it. “You don’t. And honestly, I don’t want to hear what you have to say. We both knew this wouldn’t last.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “This has to be some kind of record foryou.”

His lips thin and his nostrils flare. I know I shouldn’t have said it, even though it’s thetruth.

The phone starts ringingagain.

I walk past him and find the ringing phone in his jean pockets, then hand it to him. “Maybe it’sher.”

He frowns at me, then looks down at the phone in his hands. “It’s Cillian. I should takeit.”

I nod, then turn away as heanswers.

“Yeah?” From the corner of my eye, I see him grab his pants and start to put them on. “Okay. I’ll be there in a couple ofhours.”

He’s going to leave. This time, forgood.

“Delaney’s having thebaby.”

Despite the tightness in my chest, a small smile pulls at my lips. “Now?”

“We have togo.”

We.

“It’s not myplace.”

Pulling his shirt over his head, he walks toward me. “I want ye there. And she would,too.”

I chew on my bottom lip. “Why?”

His palms cup my face and he presses his forehead against mine, eyes closed, and lets out a long, unevenbreath.

“I know what ye think of me. And ye’re not wrong.” He pulls back slightly, staring down at me, his green eyes warring with some internal battle that I can’t figure out. “I don’t want to be that mananymore.”

“Shane-”

“Ye deserve better.” His thumb trails across my bottom lip. “I want to be better. Forye.”

---