seems we’re more fortunate than most engaged couples.”
“Most definitely.” The curve of his lips was tempered with the considering look in his eyes, and she had to remind herself for the millionth time not to underestimate him.
She sat back. “Good.”
“Wonderful.”
“Perfect.” She paused, and then laughed. A real one this time. “We’re quite the pair.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
The waiter appeared with the check. She started to reach for it, but froze when Teague shot her a sharp look. He plucked the book from the man’s hands. “Don’t insult me by suggesting we split the check.”
Since she’d been about to do just that, she kept her mouth shut and watched as he pulled out his wallet and left a stack of bills on the table. He pushed to his feet and moved behind her chair to pull it out for her. It was such an old-world gentlemanly thing to do, she found herself letting down her guard a little as she stood. Teague offered her his arm, and she wasted no time resting her hand on his forearm, acutely aware of the strength she felt beneath the thin fabric of his dress shirt.
They drew stares as they made their way to the entrance, but she kept her eyes forward. Most people had heard the names of their families in passing—one was hard pressed to live in Boston and not know such things—but she’d always made an effort to stay out of the news. Being known as a Mafia princess was enough to put a bad taste in her mouth, and that was before Ronan had died. Now? Now, she had bigger things to worry about.
The chill in the night did nothing to cool her heated skin, not when she knew where this was headed. He’d been explicitly clear when it came to his intentions, something she still wasn’t sure if she was grateful for or not. It took the uncertainty out of how this would end, but it left her unable to think of anything other than how it would feel to have his mouth on hers again.
Normally, she made an effort to be aware of her surroundings, protection in place or not, but the Saint Paddy’s parade could have been marching down the street and she still would have had her eyes glued to his face. The shadows of the parking garage seemed to deepen as they walked past, reaching out to flicker across his jaw, as if unable to resist touching him.
He stopped walking, turning to her with a raised brow. “What did you drive here?”
Of course. He was waiting for her to chime in with the information and she was too busy mooning over him to realize it. She gave herself a mental shake. “Ah, the Escalade.” She dug the keys out of her purse and hit the unlock button, making the SUV chirp a few spots away. Behind them. A flush spread across her cheeks as he grinned, the expression of a man who knew he had a heady effect on her.
They walked over to the vehicle, her heels clicking in the silence. She barely had time to wonder if she should open the door when he pulled her into his arms. “I’m not going to lie—I’ve been waiting for this moment all damn night.”
She had, too.
Teague ran his hands up her back, pressing her more firmly against him, and threaded them into her hair. He used his hold to tilt her head back so she met his eyes. They were dark and stormy and full of too many things to name. She recognized the presiding emotion, though.
Desire.
He kissed her, the slightest brushing of his lips against hers. When she would have deepened it, he tightened his grip on her hair, holding her in place. He kissed each corner of her mouth and then trailed down her jaw. She barely had a second to realize his intention and tense, but he already had her scarf off. Callie braced herself for another interrogation, but he just reached around her to open the passenger door and toss the discarded item into the vehicle. Then his mouth was on her neck. She didn’t have to see the path he took to know he was tracing the map of bruises, his lips so incredibly gentle that she whimpered.
“Am I hurting you?” His voice was rough against her skin.
“No.” Not in the way he meant. But his tender way of touching her was affecting her more than she could have anticipated. Her throat