Page 9 of Faithless Vows

“Ow—what the—”

“Watch your mouth,” Ronin says.

Mick mutters something under his breath, rubbing the back of his head.

Ronin turns back to me, his voice dropping. “I’m sorry, doll. I promised him.” He pauses. “Saturday, though. I’m still taking you to the fair.”

“Saturday,” I say, fighting the urge to ask him to stay again.

He leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek before following Mick out. I close the door behind them and stand there long enough to hear the car pull away.

From the dining room, Mam and Eileen’s voices carry over the quiet clink of teacups. Down the hall, Da and Cormac are in the sitting room, their voices lower now.

I roll my eyes at Mick’s parting comment about tea with the mammies and head back to the dining room to do exactly that.

Chapter Five

Ronin

We’re later getting to Castle Island than I wanted, but the place is still busy, the late-afternoon sun still warm enough to keep everyone out. The Cadillac looks sharp after the wash and wax I had one of the guys give her this morning, and a few heads turn as we pass. I can’t say I don’t like the attention she gets. I worked hard fixing her up, and she’s a beauty, but what I like even better is Alannah beside me in it, looking sweet with her hair pulled back in a high ponytail tied with a soft pink scarf that matches her dress, the ends falling over the collar of the cardigan I had her put on. I risk a look at her and catch her sitting forward in her seat, trying to get a better look out the window as she takes in the boats, the water, and the people walking along the boardwalk.

She looks over at me then, blue eyes bright, her mouth curving into a smile. “It’s beautiful,” she says, and I have to make myself look back at the road before I drive us into something. I reach over and squeeze her knee. “Wait till you see the fair.”

“I can’t wait,” she says, sitting back in her seat.

I’ve been looking forward to this all week. Work’s been nothing but headaches lately. Shipments have been coming in light for a while now. At first, Da and I figured it was bad counts, a crate missed here, or some idiot not checking the numbers close enough. But it’s happened too many times to be a mistake.

We’ve got a thief in the mix.

And that pisses me the fuck off because the men close enough to touch those shipments are either Da’s crew, men who watched me grow up, or mine, lads I grew up beside. Da’sput me on finding out who, and Mick’s been helping me go back through the counts, trying to see where things stop adding up. That’s how we ended up late getting here. Mick caught me before I left, swearing he was close, and I told him where I’d be if he found something. But for the next few hours, I don’t want to think about any of that. I want to take my girl on a few rides, win her a prize, and buy her something sweet. It’s been too long since we’ve had time like this, just the two of us, and I plan on enjoying every damn minute of it.

The noise from the fair gets louder the closer we get to the entrance—music from the carousel, the crack of rifles at the shooting gallery, kids shrieking over each other. I pull into a spot as close to the gates as I can, then walk around to Alannah’s side. The air smells like fried dough and popcorn, sweet and greasy, and when I open her door, she steps out beside me and takes a deep breath, like it’s the best thing she’s ever smelled.

Then she grabs hold of my hand and gives it a tug, trying to pull me forward. “Where do we start?” she asks, looking back at me over her shoulder.

I let her pull me half a step before tugging her back into me, my hand catching at her waist. “Games first,” I say, nodding toward the booths along the midway. “Let’s see if I can win you something.”

She ducks her head, but I can see her fighting a smile. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” I add, a smirk tugging at my mouth. “But I’m going to anyway.”

We stop at a booth where a young guy with his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows is stacking milk bottles into a pyramid, calling out over the crowd. “Step right up! Three balls for a dime. Knock ‘em down, win your lady a prize!” I reach into my pocket, pull out a dime, and slide it across the counter. The kid snaps it up, then drops three worn baseballs in front of me. “Let’s see what you’ve got, pal,” he says, loud enough for the small crowd passing by to hear.

I pick up the first ball and weigh it in my palm, getting a feel for it. The kid is watching me like he expects me to miss, and that alone makes me want to knock every damn bottle down.

The first throw takes the top bottle clean off.

The second catches the next row, two bottles clattering hard against the wood. A couple of kids nearby stop to watch, and Alannah lets out a small laugh beside me. My mouth pulls up at the sound.

For the third, I aim low and catch the bottom corner. The rest of the pyramid goes down, bottles scattering across the booth floor.

The kid throws his hands up and slaps on a grin for the crowd. “Another winner! See, folks? Easy as that. Step right up, don’t be shy!” As soon as he turns back to me, the grin drops. He reaches up, tugs a stuffed pink bear from the line overhead, and shoves it toward me. “Here ya go.”

I take the bear from him and hold it out to Alannah. She takes it from me, her cheeks going a little pink. “Thank you,” she says, so quiet I almost miss it under the noise of the midway. She looks down at the little pink bear in her hands, her fingers brushing over the fur before she hugs it to her chest. “I love him,” she says, smiling up at me. Then she rises onto her toes and presses a kiss to my cheek. When she pulls back, she’s still smiling, the pink in her cheeks gone darker.

I take her hand again, and we keep walking, passing the last of the game booths. The bumper cars are up ahead, and Alannah’s whole face lights up beside me. She points toward them before turning to me. “Can we go on those, please?”

“Course, doll.”