Page 22 of Sam
I’m laughing as I pull away from Sam and throw my arms around my dad. “Love you, Dad.”
Dad chuckles, kissing my forehead. “Love you too, cailín deas. How much have you had to drink?”
“Eh,” I shrug, “a little, but I’ve had fun, and I’m happy.”
Dad’s gaze softens as he looks at me, cupping my cheek, “I see that.”
Leaning forward, I whisper to my dad, “He makes me happy. And he looks at me like you look at Mum.”
Dad enfolds me in his arms. “I know, baby. He’s a good man. It’s all good.” Pressing his lips to my temple, he pushes me gently away and towards Sam, who instantly wraps me close, lifting me onto the stool in front of him and covering my back.
It’s a good night. It’s not the first time the O’Sheas and Crows have partied together, but I’m guessing it’s the first time since Rhett and Noni that it’s been because of a couple getting together. And that night, for the second night in a row, I slept a dreamless sleep wrapped in the arms of the man who meant the world to me.
CHAPTER 13
SAM
I wake at my usual time of five a.m. My arms are full of the woman who has come to mean so much to me. There’s no doubt in my mind that what I feel for her is not the same as what I’d felt for Bella.
The feelings I have for Ally are all-consuming. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of her and miss her when she isn’t with me. When we’re together, I want no… I need my hands on her. Not that she minds, she automatically gravitates towards me. I live for Fridays, knowing that I have her with me for three days before she goes back to her family. There’s nothing better than being in my workshop, working on a piece and looking up to see Ally on the couch, reading or messaging her sister.
When we’d taken the step that we had yesterday, I’d known it was time. I need to go and speak to Adam. Am I shitting myself? Oh, I absolutely am. We grew up hearing stories of the O’Sheas, and there had been whispers of The Hole, but nobody ever elaborated. It wasn’t only the O’Shea men. Their women were pretty scary too, especially Ally’s Aunt Sera and the women who came with her.
Turning over, I ease my arm out from under Ally. Standing at the side of my bed, I gaze down at the woman lying in it. Long limbs sprawled across the expanse of our bed, miles of creamy skin on display, and long black hair covering our pillows and trailingdown her back and over her arms. She’s worth it. No matter what happens today when I go to her family. She’s worth it. We’re survivors, she and I. She’s perfect for me, and I hope I’m perfect for her.
Glancing one last time at the woman asleep in my bed, I dress quietly, leaving a note to inform her of where I will be. Making sure to set the alarm and lock up behind me, I get on my bike and point it in the direction of the O’Shea compound.
It’s not a long ride, as they don’t live too far from us. Riding up to the gate, I stop at the intercom. From what I understand, years ago it had been an old-fashioned gate with a lock, or I should say gates, and there were still multiple ones, but most were now automated. It’s early, but like us, most are early risers, so I know someone will be up. Pressing the call button, I wait. Taking my helmet off, I look up towards the camera.
“Sam?” Sera’s voice comes over the speaker.
“I’m here to speak to Adam,” I tell her.
“Mmm,” she hums, then asks, “Are you sure you want to do that?”
‘Fuck no I’m not,’I think to myself.
“Yes?”
Sera laughs when my reply sounds more like a question than an answer.
“Your funeral,” she laughs again, and the gate opens.
“Fuck me,” I mutter, wiping my hand down my face. Not bothering to put my helmet back on, I put my bike in gear and rumble down the road to the next gate. I don’t have to stop because it opens automatically and closes behind me with a clunk. I’m sweating. Ally’s worth it, though. I’m repeating it likea mantra under my breath when I ride into the O’Shea drive. All five O’Shea men are there to greet me, arms folded, legs planted.
“She’s worth it,” I repeat one more time, placing my helmet on my seat.
I remove my gloves, tucking them into my helmet. I know I’m wasting time. They know I’m wasting time because Colm O’Shea calls out, “Hurry up, lad, I’m old; I don’t have the patience to stand here much longer.”
He’s right. I get off my bike and walk towards them, coming to a stop in front of Adam. He’s the one that I’m going to have to convince. Ally adores her dad. He’s her hero, always has been, and I know he always will be.
“Adam,” I say, holding out my hand. His eyes drop, and he studies it. For a moment, I think he’s not going to take it, but then he does and gives it a quick shake.
“Sam,” he greets and lets go of my hand as fast as he took it. Abruptly, he turns and walks away towards the main house.
I watch him go with trepidation in my heart. A heavy hand comes down on my shoulder, and I turn towards Colm. “It’s good you came, lad. He’ll come round. Come on, join us for a mug of tea. They’ll want to grill you.”
“She’s worth it.”
