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The honking horns of the taxis. People talking on their phones with no regard for those around them. I didn’t need to know that George was cheating on his wife with his secretary. Then there was the pounding of jackhammers from the constant construction that seemed to always be going on in this city.

The steam rising from the sewer. And the smell, God the smell. Manhattan may be near the water like Boston, but it wasn’t the same. In Boston, you could smell the salt water in the harbor. The pungent smell of fresh seafood brought in daily.

In New York, all you could smell was bureaucracy and greed. And God-awful cologne. It was everywhere. Men in suits showered in Tom Ford cologne, thinking it made them appear important.

Then there were the people. In New York, you had to push your way through thousands of people who lined the streets. Dog walkers, socialites with a thousand shopping bags taking up every inch around them, so you had no other option than to be beaten by bags of shoes as you walked by. The crowded streets, filled with light poles, stores that had to have their inventory outside in front of the door, and overflowing trash cans from people littering, made the situation worse.

Every goddamn day. There was no day off in the city that never slept. Boston, unlike New York, provided a respite duringthe week. Though tourists filled the city during the weekends there.

But here, every goddamn time I got bumped, I checked to make sure no one had lifted my wallet and keys from inside my jacket. I would bet my penthouse that the homeless population in New York far exceeded the population of those with homes in Boston.

My hands went to the arms of the woman who just slammed into me, preventing her from being trampled by the number of patrons crowding the street.

When I looked down at her, the first thing I noticed was how my dick immediately stiffened. This woman was fucking gorgeous with her long, dark hair and violet eyes.

“Excuse me, I’m so sorry,” she said, and her sultry voice washed over me. “My foot slipped on the ice.”

My voice had deserted me as I stared at the woman until a throat cleared next to me. Cian elbowed my side and tipped his head to let me know I still had my hands on the woman.

“Sorry,” I said and stepped back, reluctantly letting her go. My eyes roamed over her, committing her to memory.

“Please don’t apologize. There aren’t many chivalrous men left that would have taken the time to catch me before I fell.”

“It was my pleasure,mo bandia.”

This time it was Mac who snorted. These fuckers were killing my game.

“We need to get to the house,” Cian reminded me.

“Thank you, again.” When she smiled, she was even more beautiful.

I turned and watched as she rushed off before I could get her name. Her skirt swished around her ankles. The rest of her body covered by the long coat she wore. She turned back and smiled at me again, before being swallowed by the crowd.

“Come on, Loverboy. We’ve got shit to do. I don’t want to be in the city all fuckin’ night.”

He was right. Releasing a heavy sigh, I turned and continued on.

With any luck, Caity had everything boxed up and ready to go, and we would be home in a few hours. None of us wanted to be here any longer than we had to.

We took a shortcut across the park, my mind still on the beautiful woman who fell into my arms. But with no way of knowing who she was or how to find her, I needed to let her go.

Knocking on the door of the brownstone, it was only a moment before we heard the locks disengage, and the door opened to reveal Sal’s niece, Madigan.

She hated that name, preferring everyone call her Maddie.

“What are you doing here?”

“Is that how you answer the door? No wonder you still live with your mom.”

When her eyes cast down, I felt like an asshole. Maddie lived with her mom because her father was a controlling asshole. She had a man briefly. But thanks to Nolan Kelley, he was gone now.

“I’m sorry, Maddie. I hate the city, but I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

She moved aside without a word, letting us into the brownstone. As I looked around, my anger boiled.

That son of a bitch never called his sister.

“Where’s your mom, Maddie?” Cian asked.