Carson (Dangerous Doms 4)

Keenan reaches for my hand. I take his and we shake.

It’s decided, then.

I’ll pull together the strings of information I’ve gathered. If they add up to what I think they will… it’s time to destroy.

“And brother, don’t let Megan out of your sight. She’s a feisty one, and if she’s got a bee in her fucking bonnet, she might give you the slip.”

She’d better not even think of such a thing.

“Aye,” I tell him. “Absolutely.”

I leave the meeting with Keenan intent on what I have to do. Breena’s off with Maeve, but where’s Megan? I pull out my phone and hit the surveillance feed. I blink in surprise.

She’s right outside this door?

My pocket buzzes. Burner phone. I slip into a nearby office and pull it out of my pocket.

Shipment coming in this evening. Pier four.

This isn’t a message to me but one I’ve infiltrated and sent to my phone. I scroll through the rest of the messages. There’s a message about retaliation in Limerick City, a trade in Cork, and someone in Boston coming to visit. I shake my head. They’ve got spies and connections bloody everywhere.

But why? Father Finn gave me enough information to get me started, and I feel as if I’m right on the edge of finding out everything I need, but there’s a missing piece to the puzzle. One more little piece to click in place, and I’ll have my full picture.

I glance back at my private phone, and see Megan’s coming closer. She must be in the garden, and now she’s returning to the house.

She’s my charge, whether she likes it or not. I shove both phones back into my pocket and exit the meeting room. It’s when I shove the burner phone back in my pocket, I remember.

Yesterday, she found me on my burner phone, and I lied to her, told her I was working on Tully’s. Tully was at breakfast. Did she catch me in the lie?

Bloody hell, I hate fucking lies. I scrub a hand across my brow. I’ll have to find her.

I leave the room, intent on finding her, when I hear voices coming my way. Maeve, Breena, and Megan.

“And isn’t that the best?” Megan says, in a soft voice that tells me she’s talking to Breena.

Breena chatters on in her way, only a handful of words intelligible, but Megan carries right along with her, as if she understands every damn word. She can’t know exactly what it is she’s saying, but maybe that doesn’t matter.

Maybe all that matters is Breena know she’s heard.

I walk briskly out of the office and toward my girls. My girls.

It doesn’t matter why Megan’s in her head about whatever the fuck she is, both of those girls are mine, and I’ll fight for them until the day I stop drawing breath.

I come around the corner to see Megan and Maeve with wee Breena between them, holding hands.

“Daddy!” Breena lets go of their hands and makes a run for it. I bend, brace for her crashing into me, and when she does, I lift her in the air.

“Hello, sweet girl,” I say to her, the cloudy thoughts and the jobs before me fading when I hold Breena. She nuzzles her head against my neck, her wisps of curls making my nose tickle. I brush it away and kiss the top of her head, only to find Megan eyeing me hesitantly.

What the bloody hell is going on?

“You were in the garden with Granny and Megan?”

“Aye,” Breena says with her little voice. She goes on and on about suckers and bees and flowers. Maeve smiles and Megan grins at her.

“Tell daddy about the little rosebud you found, the one that hasn’t opened yet. We’ll wait for it to bloom, won’t we?” says Megan.

Breena nods and shows me with her hands, how her fingers are all tight, then they open again. “Bloom, daddy.”

“Just like the other pretties,” Megan says.

“Can’t wait to see that,” I tell her. “Now will you go off with Granny a moment? Megan and I need to talk about a few things.”

Megan’s eyes narrow on me, but I don’t miss the way she swallows hard. She knows she ignored my text. She knows she’s under my protection and surveillance.

“Aye, let’s go see to the kitchen,” Maeve says. “I know someone was baking some biscuits for us.”

Breena runs away with Maeve, heading to the kitchen.

“Well, then,” Megan says briskly. “I ought to be going. I have to get upstairs to—oh!”

I don’t let her get a word in edgewise as I drag her back into the meeting room. I shut and lock the door, press her up against it, and with my hand to her jaw, hold her in place.

“What the bloody hell is going on?”

She swallows, and her eyes flash at me. “Carson.”

“That’s sir.”

She takes in a deep breath as if to steady her nerves, then releases it again. “Sir,” she says, but there’s nothing deferential in her tone. She’s angry with me and fighting this, hard. But for that one moment in time, I don’t care, I bloody don’t. All I see is those bright eyes, her full lips, and before I know what’s happening, my mouth is on hers and she’s moaning into my kiss.