punch in the wall, but there wasn’t time. I had to keep her as safe as I could, knowing she was so hard-headed.
We cleaned up and hurried back into the pub. If she was wearing a green O’Shea’s t-shirt over her wet tank top, no one pointed it out. I was uncomfortably aware that every couple in the room had snuck off to do the same thing during a bonfire, an argument, or something. So we just pretended we’d had a calm chat and hurried back with stupid smiles on our faces that wouldn’t go away.
I was annoyed with Morgan and impressed by her in equal measure. She knew what needed to be done. She wanted to help. She was dedicated to her job and wanted to do the best reporting possible. She didn’t seem particularly afraid, just committed to doing the right thing. I admired her courage. I was proud of her. I also wanted to toss her in Connor’s stupid minivan and drive her out to the safe house, no arguments. But there was a lot to say for someone that determined, that loyal. She had said she’d be by my side. She’d said that she was convincing me that I belonged to her. I didn’t have an argument for that, because maybe she was right. Maybe we both had battles to wage. Maybe she was my mission, but her work was her mission. Or else I was her mission—that was a notion that filled me with dread and something like a thrill all at once. Because I wouldn’t mind being what she fought for so fiercely, what she wanted and was dedicated to.
I kissed her messy hair. “At least consider going with the women and holing up in the estate until the storm passes.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said, snuggling into my side.
“Thank you.”
“But don’t get your hopes up,” she added slyly.
“Right,” I said flatly, “I’m going to go with Tommy and Connor to pick up the supplies we need to board up.”
“I can go get the supplies for the house. I know the others have their hands full, so I can tag along with them and make sure they get everything they need and then some,” she offered.
I grinned at her, the way she jumped in to help, the way she fit right in with the O’Shea women. Something near my heart lurched at the thought. It felt good to have her here. It felt good to think she was mine.
She bounded over to Brandi and they were talking over a list of supplies. She said something, and Brandi nodded and added it on to the list. They were finishing up as I joined my brothers.
“So, you get her squared away on who’s boss?” Connor aske in his grumpy monotone.
Mickey elbowed him, “Bet that went well. Anytime I ever tried to get Karin to keep herself safe, I’d be better off arguing with the brick wall.”
“Brick walls can be useful. For leverage,” Connor pointed out. There was a twinkle in his eye that made me think the brick walls and steel doors of this pub had seen some wild times even before today. A flash ran through me of working Morgan up and down on my cock, of the tight urgency, the roll of release whipping through my body, nearly cracking my spine with the force of the pleasure she gave me.
“Yeah, brother, storm or no storm, you’re defeated,” Brendan said. “I know that look. I saw it in the mirror enough times.”
“Yeah, he looks like shit,” Connor pointed out.
“Be nice,” Mickey said. “Love’s been good to us all.”
“It just feels like you’re trying to pass a goddamn kidney stone half the time,” Connor grumbled. We all laughed. I didn’t bother to correct them about mentioning love, that wasn’t what this was. It was a fling, with intensely good sex and an unexpected storm to make things feel more extreme, that was all. I could handle their bullshit as long as we all pulled together, as long as we made it out alive.
It didn’t matter much that my head was on the swivel for Morgan constantly. I knew that I could feel her like she was magnetic north, where she was, what her coordinates were practically. I was alert to her presence, so sensitized to her every movement that I felt all my instincts focused on her, on her distance from me, her relative safety. It was going to be a long forty hours when she