About Face. Amy Lee Burgess

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СКАЧАТЬ us all. So forgive me, woman, for being a bit pissed the female he finally does choose deserts his ass at the first sign of trouble. It’s been a terrible thing to watch him these past few months. At least after Sorcha died we didn’t have to see him because he ran away to Belfast, of all fucking stupid places, and we weren’t constantly exposed to his sad, pitiful face day after day. Has the man smiled even once in four months, Paddy?” Alannah turned to him, and he looked up guiltily from his Guinness and swallowed the wrong way.

      “Stop drinking that and participate in this discussion. It’s important.” Alannah stomped a small foot on the wooden floor, but by the way Paddy cringed I would have expected her to be an Amazon or at least brandishing a weapon.

      More and more it seemed my interpretation of Faith’s dream was dead-on. Paddy needed my help with Murphy. Only, was I the one who could give it? That man never took anybody’s help—why the hell would he take mine?

      “How many goddamn times do I have to say that I am the one who was deserted, not the other fucking way around?” I wanted to get up and kick her pretty face in but somehow controlled myself.

      The look of scorn she directed at me could have stripped paint.

      “What are you doing here, then?”

      I didn’t say anything, and she blew out her breath in impatience. “You silly cow. Why can’t you admit you want him back? Bloody stupid, prideful Americans. You get on my nerves.”

      “Did you—you did not just call me a cow.” My face heated. I turned in Paddy’s direction. “Did that bitch just call me a cow?”

      “Jaysus, I want to eat dinner in peace. Woman, get your ass back to the bar. You’re the one who wanted the job, didn’t you? Begged me for it, in fact. And now you’ve got the job, what do you do? Stand around in my office, badgering poor Stanzie. If she doesn’t want to answer you, she doesn’t have to. Why should she tell us her strategy anyway? You’re gonna spoil all the fun we’ll have watching her.”

      “I did not beg you for this job.” Alannah tossed her red hair as she moved for the door. “Declan fucked Fee for it, you bastard.”

      I waited until the door was shut before I said anything. Spoil the fun, would she?

      “You made her bond mate fuck yours so she could have a job behind the bar? Oh my God.” He ducked when I threw my boot at his head.

      “Stanzie. It was a joke! The stupid kind between brother and sister? Alannah’s my half sister, for Christ’s sake. Her ma was bonded to my ma and da.”

      “She introduces herself as Declan Byrne’s bond mate but conveniently leaves out the part where she’s your sister? Unbelievable. And rude. And you didn’t say anything either, you bastard.” He ducked again when I threw my second boot.

      The lure of the food on the desk was too much to resist. On sock feet, I padded over.

      He kept his hands prudently out of the way as I made my choice between the shepherd’s pie and the fish and chips. I retreated back to the armchair with the shepherd’s pie and a foamy glass of Guinness.

      Before I dug in, I gave him a dark look, and he groaned.

      “Okay, so we’re frigging rude barbarians here in Mac Tire. From now on I’ll make sure to give you everyone’s family ties before I even tell you their names when I’m introducing you. I will never understand women. Particularly American women. I don’t even know why the hell I try to reason with any of them. Ever.” He muttered the last bit to himself and abruptly grabbed a fistful of chips from the plate and stuffed them in his mouth.

      “All right then,” I allowed after I savored a forkful of the delicious shepherd’s pie. It was spicy and warm, and hit my empty stomach like a welcome friend.

      “Glad to have the royal pardon, your Majesty,” he mocked, and I flipped him off because my mouth was too full to yell at him.

      I decided to concentrate on my food and not Paddy because he’d just ruin my appetite, the sonofabitch, and I was starving. I applied myself to my plate, and by the sounds he made, he practically made love to his fish and chips.

      Replete, I leaned back in the armchair. My plate was incredibly empty, and so was my glass. Paddy remedied the latter by refilling it from the pitcher on his desk.

      He studied me for a moment as he stood before me. “You’ve got some color back in your face. Non-choleric-rage-related color, that is.” He reached down to brush some hair from my face, and I flinched. His mouth tightened.

      “I know you think I’m some sort of complete, unfeeling bastard, Stanzie, but—”

      “I don’t think—I know,” I interrupted.

      He sighed and stomped back behind his desk. Faith’s dream had to be bullshit. There was no way I would forgive this man for abandoning me after he told me I was family.

      “So where is he?” At my question Paddy nearly dropped the pitcher of Guinness and set it down carefully. “Paddy?”

      “Belfast,” Paddy told me, although by the look on his face he’d rather have eaten glass than answer me. “He got an offer for his cottage, and he went to the closing. He’ll be back soon. I think.” His tone was doubtful.

      I thought about the cottage in Belfast. I’d never seen it, but Murphy and I had had plans to go there together for weekend getaways after we made our home here in Dublin. We were going to keep my condo in Boston and his cottage in Belfast, and now he’d sold the cottage. It shouldn’t have hurt because the man walked out on me four months ago, but it still did. Now I’d never see it. Of course, it could be cover for his investigation into the whereabouts of Mick Shaughnessy, but I could not blurt that question in case Paddy didn’t know about the conspiracy.

      Besides, Murphy wouldn’t have to put the cottage up for sale to support his investigation of Grandfather Mick. If anything, he’d want to keep it as a base away from home as he traveled around the UK. My stomach soured, and I wished I hadn’t wolfed my food so fast.

      “Well, I guess he’s not planning to leave the pack and grow vegetables this time around,” I remarked, chin jutted.

      After Sorcha died he’d left Mac Tire, bought the cottage, and escaped. After he left me, he’d sold the cottage and apparently planned to say in the pack. Which meant…

      “Who is she? He’s got someone new, hasn’t he?” My heart beat painfully in my chest, and I wanted to rip it out and stomp on it to make it stop.

      “Don’t be daft,” Paddy advised. “Sure and he’ll have to bond with somebody if you don’t figure out a way to get back with him, but you heard Alannah, didn’t you? He’s been scowling and moody the whole bloody time he’s been here. Snapping at people or more likely ignoring the crap out of them. If he’s got somebody new, she’s a masochist for sure.” Then a grin spread across his attractive face. “You’re jealous.”

      “You’re fucked in the head,” I snapped, and he laughed, the bastard.

      “You do want him back,” he crowed.

      I scowled at him. “Well, duh, that’s why I’m here. But you don’t have to get all smirky about it. So I admit it. I want him back. But since I wasn’t СКАЧАТЬ