On Dublin Street The Bonus Material - Samantha Young Page 0,44

dark goddamn world.

Seventeen year old Hannah forcing him to admit his feelings.

A drunken fumble with Leah.

Dylan in his arms. The kind of love he’d never experienced before, changing him.

Seeing Hannah at the wedding and knowing in an instant that Dylan had made him the kind of man who deserved her now. That he’d fight like fuck to get her back.

Hannah laughing.

Hannah beneath him in bed.

Hannah caressing his face with love in her eyes.

Hannah’s eyes empty as she broke up with him.

Hannah crying.

Hannah’s anguish.

Her fucking anguish.

He bowed his head, trying to get himself together.

It took him some time but finally he drew in a shuddering breath. His body felt like it had gone three rounds at the boxing. Even his ribs ached with the pain of Hannah’s confession. Turning to face her, he was shocked to discover himself alone.

She was gone.

He stumbled back a step, fear almost knocking him on his ass.

Hannah was gone.

Marco blew out a breath, his eyes swinging to the gaping holes in the office wall. Holes he’d made because he couldn’t contain his feelings.

Feelings for Hannah.

Yes, he had fucked up and he had fucked huge… but Marco still believed, deep down in his soul, that no man would ever love Hannah Nichols the way he did. He couldn’t take back the past. But he could work like hell to give her the kind of future she deserved.

Hurrying out of the office and down the steel steps his eyes alighted on Tam. “I need to patch up the wall in there,” he said.

Tam’s expression was concerned. “Okay.”

“I’ll do it first thing tomorrow but I need to take off early. My head is not in the right space to be on site.”

“I’m getting that.” Tam patted him on the arm. “Go home, see to yourself.”

“Appreciate it,” he murmured.

Marco strode out of the site, ignoring the curious eyes of the men he worked with. Instead he got in his car and he called Leah.

“Need to see Dylan,” he said.

As usual Leah was cool with that, though he could hear the curiosity in her voice too. She was his friend, he’d explain when he could, but right now all he could think about was holding his boy in his arms. Dylan gave him his strength because his boy needed him to be strong. Dylan needed his daddy to be strong and whole and complete to be the best goddamn father Marco could be.

And Marco would never be whole, would never be complete until Hannah Nichols was his forever.

And after what he’d put her through Hannah needed to know she was his moon, stars and fucking sky.

So for Dylan, for Hannah, and yes, for himself, Marco would never give up until Hannah Nichols agreed to spend the rest of her nights safe in his arms.

14

Cole’s POV - The Tattoo

ECHOES OF SCOTLAND STREET

After tossing and turning through the night, his mind on Shannon Macleod and the history she’d imparted to him last night, Cole should have been exhausted when he walked into INKarnate that morning.

Instead he was wired.

He couldn’t wait to see Shannon.

Since the moment she’d walked into the tattoo studio she’d taken him on a fucking rollercoaster ride of emotions. At first he thought she was stunning with her hair like fire and violet eyes. Then when he recognized her it brought back that instant connection he’d felt toward her when they were only fifteen. She had a boyfriend back then and disappeared before he could get her number.

Cole had decided he wasn’t going to let her slip away so easily now even if she said she didn’t remember him (now he knew she was lying when she said that). But if he’d known about her past he wouldn’t have come on so strong. But he didn’t know so he fucked up. Then she fucked up and she fucked up so badly he was done with her. The hell of it was, though, that he was so attracted to her he still wanted her, which made him resent her.

Then she apologized and he realized she wasn’t all bad after all. Still, he didn’t trust her. Shannon seemed convoluted. Like two different people. It reminded him of how his mum could be. One minute sweet. The next a drunken bitch who knew how to shred his confidence to tatters.

He was a boy then. There wasn’t much he could do about that.

Now, however, he was a man and he didn’t need to put up with that shit.

The only reason he’d made friendly overtures to