Page 83 of Fifth Avenue Fling

I attempt to hide my rock-solid erection.

Why is she on the move?

“I’m going to sit this one out.” I glare at her as she approaches me. It’s her fault for getting me all worked up.

“Are you sure?” She arches an eyebrow at me. “You look pretty tense, Mr. Quinn. This stretch is perfect for stiff men.”

My jaw clenches. “I’m sure.”

“Relax, sir,” she whispers in my ear before returning to her position at the front.

“All right,now it’s time for the cat-cow stretch,” she explains as she slips down into a four-legged position on the floor.

Oh, fuck me.

***

At the end of the session, I watch from a distance from the bench. Trying to pry Clodagh out from her harem of athletes and seniors will be challenging. She has them all eating out of the palm of her hand. I swear I saw one of them sniff her hair when she whipped it from the ponytail.

I can just about hear their conversations. Clodagh has her arm around Teagan, and both of them are being bombarded with incessant questions by the women.

Clodagh’s laughter carries across the park, loud and contagious. Three women have tried to marry her off to their sons or grandsons so far. Mischief and happiness shine in her eyes.

It makes me feel like a moody old bastard.

The sight of Teagan so happy is almost bittersweet.

Queens has a real community feel away from the Manhattan skyscraper jungle, especially among the Irish. Teagan deserves this life, but I failed to provide it for her. Would she have been better off if I had been a tradesman living in Queens?

Community.

This is what Marek talked about. This is what Harlow wanted for Teagan. What I’ve failed to give her.

When Clodagh spots me waiting at the bench, she excuses herself and comes over.

I stand. “You ready to go?”

The wind ruffles her red hair, and she swipes it from her face. “I’m probably staying in Queens today.”

“I was going to suggest I take us out to lunch, and Orla could come along too.”

“Sorry, Killian. That’s really sweet, but…” She glances back at the crowd.

My hand flexes around the car keys. “No worries. Got your phone on you?”

“Yup, and I have a football team watching out for me.” She grins. “I’ll be fine.”

That’s what I’m worried about.

I grunt in agreement, but I really want to sweep her up, put her over my shoulder, and take her back to my Ferrari. “Call me if you need anything. Do you have the credit card with you?”

She rolls her eyes, just like my teenage daughter. “Yes,Daddy.”

Now I’m well and truly fucked.

I drive back to Manhattan with Teagan, wondering why I feel so unsettled.

EIGHTEEN