Page 51 of Hot Irish Halloween

“Yeah. I think a certain giant popping his guard in the mouth might have had something to do with that. From what Squeeze told me the last time we texted, it’s all been squashed.”

Jack wished that had been true of all the freaks they’d encountered that weekend. He hadn’t wanted to mention it to Penny, fearing it would upset her, but he had heard from Simon FitzGerald.

Not a week after his Samhain spectacle with Clarissa, Jack had received a call from the accountant at the foundation saying there had been a sudden jump in the donations from severalhigh-profile individuals. The surprise was the cheque for €1 million from Mr. Simon FitzGerald. But why? Hush money?

Sure enough, Simon FitzFuckingGerald had followed up with a note sent directly to Jack that same week, written in his fine English boarding school penmanship.

“Dear Mr. Valentine.

I want to thank you again for coming to our little gathering. I do have to say it was somewhat upsetting to me personally that you did not seem to enjoy all the festivities we’d so carefully planned. My sincerest apologies. I did not take into account that you might be a much more private individual than I’d presumed, given your spectacular and very public career in professional sports.

I’d very much welcome another visit on terms more beneficial to us both. I’m including my direct number at the bottom. Do not hesitate to use it should you need anything. In the meantime, please accept my donation to your foundation as my mea culpa and extension of goodwill.

My warmest regards to the lovely Mrs. Valentine.

Yours, SF”

Jack hadn’t known what to make of the note. Was it an honest apology or another offer to sell his ass as well as his soul? Disturbed, his first instinct was to crush the letter in his fist and toss it. But on second thought, it would be smarter to save it. Not for a favor. As proof. Just in case.

Shrugging off the thought of the persistent couple and what they wanted from him now, he finished his stew, regretting he hadn’t indulged even more. He should have baked flatbread for dipping. But tomorrow morning’s workout would have been longer if he did.

And now he was pondering the conversation between Penny and her mother about her book. WhatdidPenny plan on doing when it was done?

“I was just wondering…” Hesitant, he closed his mouth.

“Wondering what?”

“Isthere some reason you’re not finishing the book? You spend all your time either at the gym, or at that coffee shop you like or here with me. I feel like I haven’t seen you write this whole time.”

His observation was met with an eye roll. “I’m a procrastinator. I do my best work under pressure. I’ll get back into it. Are you saying you don’t want me at the gym?”

“Angel, I love when you come hang out at the gym with me. I just don’t want to think I’m somehow the cause of you ignoring your own thing.” Penny shook her head and folded her arms. “Are you dragging your feet because you think if you finish, you’ll have to decide if you’re staying or going home?”

“If you’re asking if I’m putting off deciding whether I want to stay here with you, the answer is no.”

Thud. A blow from a sledgehammer couldn’t have landed harder or hurt worse.

“No, you don’t want to stay with me,” he reiterated. Well, this conversation was going to fucking crush his soul. Just in time for dessert.

“Idowant to stay, baby.” Penny laughed, putting her hand on his. “I want to stay with you. Have I given you any reason to think I don’t?”

Quirking an eyebrow, Jack listed the reasons one finger at a time. “Number one. You won’t move in with me, even though you spend nearly every night here already, and you’re wasting your money on rent. Number two. You’re still wearing the ring, but you won’t make plans to get married or even call this an official engagement. Number three.”

He had to stop when he drew a blank.

With her saucy smile, Penny taunted, “What’s number three?”

“There is no number three, but those first two are enough. Seriously, Penny. Are you staying whether you finish that book or not?” he pressed.

“I’m staying, okay?” she exclaimed with frustration. Penny got up to clear the dinner dishes, choosing to wash them by hand rather than use the perfectly functional dishwasher. “And I love this house. It’s a great house. Who wouldn’t want to live here?” she grumbled, slapping the soapy sponge on the plate and scrubbing hard.

He mean-mugged her and turned back. “You, apparently.”

Jack looked around, seeing the place through her eyes. Four bedrooms, three bathrooms. A home designed for the family Dierdre insisted he should have.

Back then, he'd scoffed at that suggestion. After all, it was just a decent place to eat, sleep and piss. But now he finally acknowledged it needed something more. It needed Penny in it, permanently.

“You sure this isn’t just a way to save yourself some money and get rid of your cleaning lady? Because I’m not taking on that job, mister.”

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