Tiernan (Dangerous Doms 6)

“You must have an outstanding landscaper.”

He grins. “We make the boys do it.”

Of course they do. I grin back.

I’ve never been to a place like this before. “Is it all boys?”

“Oh, aye.”

“Can’t let the ladies detract from your work, then?”

He snorts. “Something like.”

“Tiernan? That you, lad?”

A man some years older than Tiernan, tall and muscled with Irish ink on his neck and arms, ambles out, his hands in his pockets. His iron-gray hair is cut short, his jaw clean-shaven, his eyes as steely gray as his hair. His eyes twinkle, but there’s a hardness about him I don’t miss. He’s got a scar along his temple and one on his chin as well.

He claps Tiernan on the back. “How’ve you been lad?”

Tiernan lights up like a little boy on Christmas, nearly bursting with pride. It’s then that I realize that this place, this school, was home to him, too.

“Excellent.” He gestures toward me. “Malachy, meet Ruby.”

Ruby. Ugh. I can’t get over the name.

I plaster on a smile and shake his hand.

“Pleased to meet you, love,” he says, leaning in to whisper. “Keenan’s told me everything. You two need anything at all, you let me know.” He stands and gestures to Tiernan. “And if this bloke doesn’t treat you well, you let me know.” He cuffs Tiernan good-naturedly. “I can still kick his muscled, full-grown arse.”

Tiernan snorts and ducks the blow.

“You think so, old man?” Tiernan’s already bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to go, and Malachy grimaces.

“Actually, probably not,” he says, and the two of us laugh.

“Got a class to teach, will see you later,” Malachy says. Tiernan waves, and opens the door for us to go inside.

“I don’t understand,” I say to him. “What makes it safer here? Why didn’t we just stay at the mansion? I mean, there’s those heavy gates and security…”

“And we likely would’ve been fine there, aye,” Tiernan says, as the door swings shut behind him. “But no one will think to look here, when doing a cursory investigation anyway. St. Albert’s is damn near its own little island, as it were.”

“Oh? How so?” I’m intrigued.

“Well, they’ve got their own staff, for one. Private schooling. All attendees board, and we have a full school board panel as well.” He goes on, explaining the hierarchical structure of the school’s staff.

“Ah. That really is like a little island, isn’t it?”

He smiles grimly. “’Twas the first place I felt truly safe and at home.”

My heart squeezes for him. I’m glad he’s brought me. I’m not sure I’d have been able to see every facet of Tiernan Hurston without this.

“Right, then. I love that for you.”

He holds my hand and squeezes me back.

When we enter the school, there’s a boy sitting in front of an office. He’s scowling, leaning forward with his arms on his knees. When we enter, he looks up, and his eyes go wide.

“You’re Tiernan Hurston, of the McCarthy Clan,” he says. The McCarthys are like celebrities here. I notice how all eyes come to Tiernan, and the boys that walk past whisper among themselves. The boy here before us has a shock of reddish brown hair and a freckled face. He’s rail thin but I can tell he’s got a will of iron. There’s a toughness about him I’d recognize a mile away.

“Aye,” Tiernan says. “And your name?”

“Deacon Shae,” the boy says with a note of pride in his voice.

“Pleased to meet you, Deacon,” Tiernan says. His gaze is stern, fixed on the boy, and Deacon squirms under Tiernan’s penetrating look. He crosses his arms on his chest and narrows his eyes. “Now, what has you outside the headmaster’s office?”

Deacon blushes to the roots of his hair.

“Aw, let him alone, Tiernan,” I whisper. “C’mon.”

Tiernan shakes his head at me, his eyes on the boy. “Tell me.”

The boy clears his throat, his cheeks bright pink. “I, um… may have lost my temper in Chem class.”

“Did you or didn’t you?” Yikes, Tiernan’s turned the full force of his stern gaze on him. My heart thumps a little. Can I be attracted to this side of him?

Oh, hell yes, I am.

Deacon sighs. “I did.”

“And what’d you do in your fit of temper?”

I’m as uncomfortable as Deacon is, poor lad, but Tiernan’s bent on making sure the boy’s chastised, it seems.

“I… broke a beaker or two, sir.”

Tiernan’s brows raise. “Which was it? One or two?”

The boy grimaces. “Three.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

“Speak plainly, Deacon. Tell the truth. Men sometimes lose their tempers, but a meek man will apologize and take the punishment he’s due.”

The boy grimaces again at the word punishment, when the headmaster opens his door. He’s about Malachy’s age, tall and strong, and I wonder if all the men related to the McCarthy clan are that way. Former fighters or the like.