Cillian (The Kelly Brothers #2) - Megan Wade Page 0,24

he doubles down. “While you live in this house, you follow my rules. That’s all there is to it.”

I lift my chin and meet his eyes with a stubborn glare. “Then maybe I don’t want to live here anymore,” I say, stomping my way up to my room.

He mutters something about me being difficult and ungrateful, and then I hear the front door slam, once again proving that the restaurant is more important than his daughter. Same story. Different day.

As I get into the shower and wash the remains of the evening off my skin, my mind races, re-playing the events of the last month over and over. More often than not, it’s been lonely. I’ve spent more time feeling in the way and useless than I’ve spent feeling wanted. And the only time I have felt wanted has been whenever I’m around Cillian. Last night made me realize that I do belong somewhere. And that place is not here. It’s not the restaurant. It’s with him.

I’m over being stifled by my father’s rules. Something wonderful is happening in my life, and he’s more interested in trying to force me into a round hole when I’m a square peg, than he’s interested in sharing it with me. I don’t want to grow up to be just like him. When I didn’t make it into college, I was honestly relieved. There is nothing I want to do in life more than I want to be a wife or a mother. Maybe that idea is a little dated, but it’s what I want. I want a happy home. I want to get married to Cillian, and I don’t want to be told I’m supposed to want something more than that. To me, being a wife and mother is everything. Aren’t I the one who decides what it’s going to take to make me happy?

By the time I finish in the shower, I've come to a decision. Dragging my suitcase out from under my bed, I open my drawers and pull out my clothes, throwing them into the suitcase until I struggle to zip it up. I’m not staying here. I have a beautiful and kindhearted man who wants me. Whether my father likes it or not, I’m taking my happily ever after now. He can’t stop me.

Cillian

Before the start of service, after I finish all my prep, I make my way down the small corridor next to the kitchen, rapping my knuckles against the office door while nerves swirl in the pit of my stomach. I don’t expect this conversation to go well. But it needs to be had. When I needed a chance to further myself in this industry, George gave it to me. At the very least, I can sit down and tell him that I’ve fallen in love with his daughter. And that I plan to marry her.

“Come in,” his booming voice calls.

I push the door open with splayed fingers, steeling myself for confrontation as he comes into view. “Can I speak with you?”

“Ah, Cillian. Of course. What’s on your mind? Was everything OK on the home front last night?”

“Everything is fine,” I say, taking a seat across from him and clasping my hands in my lap. “I actually came here to talk to you about your daughter.”

“Why do you want to talk to me about Hazel, Cillian?” he asks, narrowing his eyes and placing his pen on the desk so he’s free to mirror my clasped-hand position. Something about the movement makes me twice as nervous as I was a moment ago. I swallow down hard, struggling to get rid of the lump in my throat.

“I’ve… I’ve been seeing her. Outside of work,” I admit, bringing my eyes to his as I inhale slowly and deeply. “It was just as friends at first, but now…”

“And now she’s spending the night at your house and coming home in your Boston College sweatshirt,” he finishes for me.

I shake my head. “It’s not like that,” I say.

“I see. So that wasn’t your sweatshirt she was wearing this morning?”

“It was, but—”

“She was wearing your sweatshirt, but she didn’t get it from your house?”

“She did. I mean, she didn’t. It—”

“She either did or she didn’t, Cillian,” he fires at me. “Which one is it? Or how about we try this simple yes or no question: were you with her last night and this morning?”

I force my jaw together hard. “Yes. But we weren’t together in the way you think we were.”

“You were just