Page 11 of Outlaw Heartstrings

Irish

Christmas Day dawned bright and cold, but he was warm and toasty in a comfortable bed with Ellen in his arms.

Staring through the curtains as the light strengthened, he thought back to the wealth of conversations he’d had yesterday.

Ellen’s words had struck a chord, plucked at his heartstrings with her confession of confident attraction.

That had been reinforced throughout the day by talks with Ricky and Marilyn.

Both had encouraged him to stay, offers of hospitality extended indefinitely.

Marilyn spoke eloquently about Ellen’s heart and soul and how deeply she felt things. The undercurrent there was about strength and honesty, telling him without saying it that she wouldn’t say she felt something if it wasn’t there.

Ricky’s discussion was more pragmatic and practical, talking about the club and fellowship he was building in his chapter of Legends. When Irish had asked about work opportunities, Ricky had laughed and informed him that Dolph had been looking for a partner for years.

Everything seemed custom crafted for him to stumble into this encounter.

When he shared his slight misgivings in general ways, Ricky had come closer, clapping a hand on Irish’s shoulder.

“Finger of God. That’s what my momma always called these kinds of things.

Ultimate knowledge that there’s a deep and powerful need, so the treatment is sought and redirected, bringing the two elements together.

What happens after that is free will choices, but the confluence is divine intervention.

He knew you needed someone after losing your brother, also saw Ellen’s sorrow and LouCiel’s giving heart looking for a stable influence—and brought you here.

Simple as that.” Ricky’s fingers tightened harder.

“What happens now is up to the two of you. I know what I hope for and understand how profound this is, the offer Ellen’s made to you.

Her love might be fast, but it’s not casual.

Next to Marilyn, she’s the strongest person I know. I’m proud of her.”

“Finger of God.” Irish repeated Ricky’s words with a nod.

“That feels right, actually. I didn’t understand it, but I had to ride up here to pay my respects.

Had to be now. Had to be this highway. There were easier routes, but this was the only one that felt right.

” He blew out a hard breath. “Finger of God brought me here. I told her last night that she was my karmic reward for being as good a person as I can be. Kismet. Finger of God. Two sides of the same coin, I think.”

Ricky’s fist thudded lightly against his other shoulder as the man released his hold and stepped back.

“Karma or not, this is where I warn you that I know how to dispose of a body so it’ll never be found.

Wolves’ll scatter bones across miles. You be good to my girls—my family—or you’ll answer to me. ”

Recognizing the grief and love that drove the words, Irish brought Jerry’s memory to the front of his mind as he crafted a response.

With a steadying inhale, he said, “I’d never disrespect your son’s wife and child in any way.

He’s not here anymore, and while I can’t take his place, I can make sure that my space in their lives leaves plenty of room for remembering him.

I don’t think you’ll have a reason to find a wolf pack, sir. ”

“No, I suppose I won’t.” Ricky’s smile held an edge of pain. “That’s good, Irish. Real good.”

He wasn’t aware Ellen had woken until she spoke. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“Good morning, darlin’. You’re a sneaky waker. Took me by surprise.”

“You didn’t answer my question. I can feel your mind going a thousand miles an hour over there.” She sighed and snuggled back into his hold, pressing them together even more. “Tell me.”

“I still want to go to Bozeman before I head home to pack up. Seems disrespectful to come all this way and not finish the trip.”

“What does Dolph say about the bike? When will it be ready?”

He was surprised by her questions but had answers readily enough. “Not for a couple of days. He didn’t have a tire on hand, and everything’s delayed because of the holidays.”

“Then you spend Christmas with us, and we can drive up in my car tomorrow.” Ellen wiggled and turned in his arms, facing him. “Unless you don’t want to ride up in a cage.”

Last night when they’d headed to her bedroom, they’d brought an unwelcome companion of anxiety with them.

Ellen had been tense as they slipped between the sheets.

In response, Irish had initiated a dating game old as the hills, asking endless questions about her likes and dislikes.

Within fifteen minutes, she’d relaxed significantly, laughing softly at some of the queries, him chuckling at a few of the replies.

Another thirty minutes passed before she’d fully unwound and twined her feet with his, locking them together in the middle of the bed, snuggled close as they could get.

So comfortable and content with the closeness and intimacy of the conversation, Irish hadn’t been surprised when they’d both drifted off without sex entering the picture.

Her use of “we” just now told him a lot about Ellen’s feelings, because she clearly saw herself as part of his path going forwards.

With a gentle caress of her shoulder, he composed an answer to her slimly camouflaged questions.

“Cage or bike doesn’t matter for this leg of the trip. I did the bulk on the saddle. With the weather like it is, I don’t think he’d begrudge me a few miles of comfort.”

“Then it’s settled. We head up there tomorrow. Day after Christmas sounds right.”

“Easy as that?”

“Easy as that.” She leaned closer and touched her forehead to his. “Marilyn won’t mind keeping LouCiel for us, and the trip will bring you that needed closure.”

Emotion flooded through him, and Irish tightened his arms, pulling her securely against him again, her face tucked against his neck. He fought for composure for a minute, steadying his breathing until he could talk through the feelings without choking.

“Us.”

“What?” Ellen moved as if to slide backwards, but he kept his hold. “What is it, Liam?”

“Us. You said she’d keep Lucy for us.” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t understand how much it’d mean to me to be with you like this.”

“If it bothers you—”

“No, not at all.” He cut her off firmly. “This isn’t me being bothered. This is me being overwhelmed with joy at how things are between us. Joy, and nothing less.”

She bowed her neck, nestling her cheek against his chest. “I like that.”

“MEMA!” Lucy’s shout rattled the door, and he grinned at the slapping of her little feet as she sped up the hallway. “Is pwesents!”

“Should we head that way, join in on family time?” Irish pressed his lips to Ellen’s temple. “I’d like that.”

She melted in his arms, snuggling closer and he felt the brush of a kiss soft against his throat. “Family time.”

Neither of them made any effort to move until Lucy’s footsteps arrowed back to their bedroom door, and a tiny fist pounded hard.

Irish lifted his head and grinned at the door, calling, “Be right there, princess.”

After the flurry of opening presents was over, breakfast went about as it had the previous day, and the rest of the time unspooled with cookies, laughter, and cocoa before bed.

Finally, the whirlwind of activity was over, and Ellen was pulling him down the hallway, smiling back at him over her shoulder, promises in her eyes.

Once the door was closed, he whirled, dragging her with him, and placed her back against the firm surface.

He nudged the underside of her jaw with his nose and dragged his mouth along her neck, teeth and tongue working in tandem, lips caressing every inch of skin he encountered.

Irish continued his exploration until she gripped his chin in her fingers, raising his head.

Eyes blazing, pupils blown wide, Ellen said, “Bed.”

“No argument from me.” Lifting her against his chest, he walked the few feet to the bed and laid her back on the covers. “Just sayin’, if you like any of these clothes, best lose them quick, darlin’.”

His muttered demand in her ear set her in action, and within a minute, Ellen was stripped bare, stretched out in front of him.

Irish wasn’t far behind her, kicking off his boxer briefs as he crawled up the length of the mattress to settle his weight on top of her.

“Want you,” she whispered, fingertips twisting in his hair. “Want you, Liam.”

“You got me.” He slipped to one side as they kissed, tongues gliding in a sensuous dance, and reached a hand to the night table where he fumbled a condom from the stash he’d put there earlier. Eyes closed, he angled his head, deepening the kiss and swallowing down every sound wrung from her.

She took the condom from him and, true to her earlier demand, wasted no time preparing his cock. The fluttering sensation of her fingers along his length made his balls pull up, tingling spasms racking his muscles.

Rolling on his side to face her, he pulled her close and gripped her knee, dragging it over his hip as he thrust forwards.

Sliding halfway in on a single movement, he held there for an instant, basking in the perfection of her hot channel holding tightly, pulling him deeper.

Another push had the root of his cock grinding against her clit, and he cut off her cry of delight with his mouth, finding her kisses had turned desperate.