Page 69 of Arranged Devotion
“Don’t be jealous.”
“I’m not!” I pause, seething, and catch my breath. I hold his gaze with deep, ugly loathing, but that anger’s mostly directed at myself.
Because despite how annoying he’s being, I’m desperately turned on.
To the point where if he touched me, I’m pretty sure I’d explode on the spot.
His gaze is knowing and infuriating. “You okay, baby?”
“Stop calling me that. Actually, stop calling melovetoo, okay?” I shove my way into the apartment building.
He catches up and takes some of the bags from me. “I like the nicknames.”
“I hate them. And you’re a prick, you know that?”
“Regan—“
“No, I’m serious. You disappear for a few days after our wedding and you only come back to make my first public shopping trip since the shooting feel like a walk of shame. I don’t know what I did to make you hate me, but get over it.”
He doesn’t respond. I storm off to the elevator, jab the button, and stand to wait. He lingers a few feet behind, giving me space. I want to whirl around and keep on shouting at him, but what will that solve?
I’m not even that mad at him.
The grocery store was immature and annoying, but I don’t think he was doing any of that to upset me.
The elevator shows up and we get on. He hefts the bags, leaning against the railing. I focus on the numbers and do my best to pretend like he isn’t there. I’m in frustrated agony until we reach our floor, but he jams his thumb against the door close button.
“What are you doing? Let go of that.”
He doesn’t look at me. His eyes stay on the door. “I know I haven’t been around much. I want you to know that I’ve been out dealing with business.”
Butterflies fill my stomach. “I don’t need to know.”
“Maybe you do. Maybe Finn’s right and my place is at home with you.”
“No Liam, seriously, it’s fine.”
“I’m doing what I can. I want you to understand that.”
“Okay. Really, it’s fine.” My face is hot. He looks back at me and the hungry intensity in his stare sets my body alight.
He releases the button and the door slides open.
But none of the tension eases.
CHAPTER 18
LIAM
The bar’s smoky and packed. The doors are guarded and all the tables are filled with men quietly talking. Saint Stephen’s isn’t the nicest joint in Brooklyn, but tonight, it might be the most powerful.
Seamus holds court in the back corner. The Whelan brother enforcer laughs loudly, drinks plenty, and is generous to everyone who comes through the door. Declan’s the polar opposite: he’s quiet, serious, and talks with a few other Whelan upper-level members in dour tones. Regan’s father is at the main table along with her brother Luke.
I stay off to the side wishing Finn weren’t busy with several family lieutenants. There are no wives tonight, no girlfriends. The only woman is Cathy manning the bar. She brings over a second bourbon and slides it into my waiting hand.
“Isn’t this supposed to be a celebration?” She leans toward me, lined face giving me a curious smile. I’ve always liked her. No bullshit in that woman. I watched her brain a patron one time for reaching over and trying to steal a single beer from the icechest. She smashed a glass over his head like it was no big deal and went back to filling drinks like nothing happened. She’s good people.
“Not for me.”
