I Made You My First (24 page)

I barely heard Irish tell someone, “Not now.”  I remained quiet, being sheltered in his arms.  I could hear voices around me but I didn’t pay attention to what was being said.  Minutes passed and I felt Irish guiding me outside, pulling my face up toward his.  When I was able to focus on his eyes, it was obvious he’d been crying and that frightened me. 

Why would Irish be crying?
I thought.  

Satisfied that I was okay, he pulled me back into his chest.  I gladly stayed in his warm embrace.  Soon the commotion lessened and I didn’t hear as many voices.  Irish never let go.  I could hear him answering questions from several different people, but he shielded and comforted me with his body. 

Suddenly I heard John’s voice and I felt Irish’s hold on me tighten.  I thought my brother was talking to Judy because I could hear him apologizing.  Irish’s hold tightened even more and I felt him begin to tremble.  I wanted to look at his face but he was holding me tightly against his chest, making it difficult to move.

“John, I’m asking you politely to get
the fuck away from me.  I don’t even want to look at you right now.”  Irish loosened his hold on me.  I took a deep breath,  guessing that
this
was Irish angry.  John must not have listened because I felt Irish’s hold loosen more.  He took a step backward, bringing me with him, but guiding my body to his side.  John was two feet from us and he wasn’t backing away. 

Judy was standing behind John coaxing him to come with her.  I think my brother wanted to see that I was okay, but I wasn’t sure of anything at that moment.  Within a split second, Irish released me and was on John before anyone could prevent it.  My husband was visibly
 irate.  He started punching John’s face until blood appeared.  John wasn’t fighting back. 

Standing there frozen, I watched this one-sided confrontation
 happen and finally jumped to Irish’s side grabbing his arm, trying to stop him from severely hurting John.  He struggled, but when he realized I was holding his arm, he finally halted.  His whole body shook and when his eyes met mine, I knew he could see my frightened look. 

He dropped his arms and I wrapped myself around his body.  “That’s enough,” I whispered.  He stopped fighting me and I felt his body begin to relax.  I held him, searching his face.  “It’s all right, everyone’s okay,” I whispered soothingly. 

I looked at John, and Judy had gotten him a wet cloth, helping him wipe the blood from his face.  He stared at the ground but wouldn’t look at me.  I’m not sure how much time had passed but when I looked around, everyone had left.  Judy walked John to his truck while Irish and I stood on the patio hugging each other.

“Do you want to go home now?”  I
asked. 

He squeezed my arm.  “Yes,” and he smiled, the first since coming into the house.

As we walked into the living room, I grabbed my purse, remembering my phone was still on the table.  Irish reluctantly let go of my hand so I could retrieve it.  When we got to the car, Irish’s truck was parked next to it.  “I’ll get the truck tomorrow,” he said and we both climbed into the Mustang.  I saw Judy talking to John and waved goodbye.

Irish didn’t say a word the whole drive home.  I wasn’t sure if he was still upset about what had
 happened to me or ashamed of what he’d done to my brother.  Either way, I held his hand and watched the cars whiz by in a blur of color. 

I didn’t want to think about what
could
have happened to Judy and me.  I only wanted it to be tomorrow and have today’s confrontation a distant memory.  Maybe there was something to Irish’s strange yearning for us never to be apart. 
What happened tonight at Judy’s would never have happened if Irish had been there with me
, I thought.

* * *

I heard the alarm buzzing and I sat straight up in bed.  Irish was lying flat on his back next to me sound asleep with a slight smile on his face.  I tried gently reaching over him to turn off the alarm when he grabbed and held me to his chest.

“I heard it,” he smiled.  “I was just waiting for you to climb on me” and I smacked his shoulder and reached for the button.

“We’d better get up, Rocky,” I smiled.  I rolled back over to my side of the bed and felt Irish roll over on his side facing me.

“I’m really sorry about last night, Jurnee; I was totally wrong and I’ll apologize to John when I see him.”
 

Looking at the ceiling, I asked, “Why do you think he stood there letting you pummel him?”
  I didn’t look at his face but waited for his response.

“I thought about that
all the way home last night and my best guess is he felt he had it coming.  I know I’d have felt the same way.”   He raised his finger to my face and touched my nose.

I took his hand and clutched it to my chest.  “Tell me someth
ing,” and I continued to look at the ceiling.  “Why were you crying last night?”

I’m sure it was only moments but seemed like minutes before he finally answered.  “When Judy called my cell, I was at
my mom’s, thirty minutes away from you.  She said she left you with the guy who’d raped you and he had a knife.  She was crying, Jurnee, and I wasn’t sure what I was going to see when I got there.” 

We looked at each other for a moment.
His blue eyes were big and intense, almost anxious and I had to look away. “Well it’s over now, everyone’s okay, and we have lots to do, so let’s get this party started, buddy,” I finally said.

We both rolled out of bed and I raced him to the bathroom.  We both showered and ate breakfast before heading to the airport. 

                
Chapter Twelve

As we passed Judy’s exit, I fished in my purse
 for my cell.  It went straight to her voicemail:
Judy, just calling to check on you.  I love you and I
’
ll call you again when I get home tonight
.

We were in San Francisco in no time at all, going straight to the condo that we’d previously shared, so Irish could retrieve some paperwork and make some calls. 

He opened a laptop and pulled up a picture of a little white house sitting right on the beach. “That’s it,” he said.  “Scroll through and you can see all of the rooms plus the backyard and garage.  I’m going to make some calls and then we’ll be on our way.”  He kissed me and disappeared into another room. 

I sat there looking at the little white house. 
It was adorable
, I thought.  I scrolled through, counting the rooms and gasping at the kitchen. 
Irish will make some awesome meals in that room
, I thought pleasantly with a grin.  I could hear him still talking on the phone, so I picked up my purse and headed for the bathroom. 

I brushed my hair and fished a scrunchy from my purse to put it up out of my face.  My packet of birth control pills fell to the floor.  I had three left.  I hadn’t taken a pill since my birthday
, which certainly wasn’t like me.  I quickly popped one in my mouth and bent down under the faucet to drink some water.
It will be fine, Jurnee
, I assured myself.  I saw Irish standing behind me now.  I quickly tossed the pills back in my purse and turned around smiling at him. 

“So, what do you think of the house?” he smiled. 

“It has great architecture.  I can’t wait to see it,” I said, reaching out to hug him.  He stopped me, gently holding me back to look at my hair.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you wear your hair in a ponytail,” he said. “I really like it,”
he added and gave me a sexy grin.

“You don’t think my ears look too small when my hair’s up?” and I giggled at him, feeling a little embarrassed.
He chuckled and stared at me for a long moment with a frozen grin.

He pulled me in for a hug and whispered in my ear, “Jurnee, you’re perfect to me” as he wrapped me in protectiveness.  Irish had rented a car to use for the day and
although it wasn’t a Mustang, it was still a very cool, brand-new BMW.  I felt like a kid checking out all of the buttons as well as opening and closing the sunroof. 

When we finally arrived at the house, it looked huge compared to the pictures that I’d seen on the laptop.  I followed Irish around to the back as he unlocked the door.  It was a small room, separate from the house, almost resembling my aunt’s wet room, for hanging up damp clothes and peeling off soggy shoes.

“This was built for surfers’ wet clothes,” Irish announced.  We walked through all of the rooms and finally sat down on the living room floor.  He had a measuring tape and a small pocket-sized notepad in his hands.  We sat there looking around the room.  All of the windows and doorways were trimmed in oak and the carpet was dark beige.  The windows looked right out onto the beach and presented a breath-taking view. 
It’s perfect
, I thought.  Irish drew a floor plan of each room and we decided where we wanted to place the furniture.  He measured the spaces where we wanted the sofa and other big items.  When we were both satisfied with our plan, we took a walk on the beach. 

This was so relaxing walking in the sun, down our beach holding hands with my husband
, I thought. 

Sticking with Irish’s schedule, we were on our way to some furniture stores.  He’d googled five places in advance
 and we found everything we needed in the first two stores.  I’d never bought furniture before, so I pointed to things that I liked but was more than happy to let Irish make the final call on our choices.  He was great, and I could tell that he’d done this before and I was comfortable letting him take charge.  As we walked out of the second furniture store, Irish announced that we had to make a quick stop at the company he’d soon be managing.  I was excited to see his workplace, so we piled in the car and headed that way.

Irish
said the distance from our new house to the construction company was about five miles, so I anxiously studied the landscape hoping to familiarize myself.  Soon we pulled into a parking lot with a big sign on top of the building that read
Thompsons’ Construction
.  Irish parked the car and turned off the engine.  Staring at the building, he began nervously rubbing his thighs with both hands.  Finally he turned to me and said, “Jurnee, before we go in I need to explain something,” and I felt myself freeze.  He watched my face and began shaking his head no. He laughed at me, his eyes warm, almost oddly apologetic.

“No, I haven’t dated anyone in here,” and he gave me a little smile.  I turned my body toward him, giving him my full attention and waited for him to continue.  “I’m coming here to work because in the last six months this company has lost thousands of dollars in materials.  I flew up here two months ago and installed hidden cameras while the site was closed,” he looked back at the building.  I followed his stare.  “Everyone in this office is going to see me as the bad guy because
the thief thinks he has a good thing going right now.  I’m not going to be well liked,” and he turned back to me.  “I guess I’m trying to say that when we go in there and get less than a welcoming greeting, it’s not personal but purely business.  Steve, the one I’m replacing isn’t the thief, but he’s had three months to find out who’s stealing and hasn’t been successful.” 

I smiled at him.  “I can handle it, Irish.  Let’s do this,” I told him and he finally beamed.  Irish held
the door open and I walked into the well-lit room.  There were eight desks, four on each side of the room with employees who appeared to be working.  Irish pointed me toward a small waiting area and told me that he’d be right back.  Curiosity made me scan the room looking for the hidden cameras.  I could feel eyes on me and rather than look at anyone, I let myself follow Irish as he walked into a room with glass walls near the back of the office.  I saw a man stand, extending his hand to Irish when we entered. 

While he was standing, arms crossed, ta
lking, I looked to the left side of the room and the four females were now huddled together looking toward the office.  I guessed they weren’t any older than eighteen, maybe twenty, and were all giggling and whispering.  It was obvious they were admiring my husband.  The employees on the right side of the room appeared to be older and either talked on the phone or worked on their computers.  I scanned the walls again looking for any sign of a camera, seeing nothing.  It wasn’t long before Irish and Steve exited the office. 

Standing in the middle of the room, Steve looked around the area. “Can I get everyone’s attention,” he asked, turning to both sides of the room before looking back at Irish.  “I’d like you all to meet
 Mr. Thompson.  He’s going to be replacing me next week and will need your help and consideration to make this transition a smooth one.” Everyone’s eyes focused on Irish. 

Acting professional, he looked around the room at each face and said, “Thank you, Steve, I look forward to working with all of you and I’ll see you first thing next week,” and he turned and followed Steve back into the glassed-in office.  I looked at Irish now, and his tight white tee shirt, faded blue jeans, and flip flops didn’t make him look much like a boss.  He was standing with his arms crossed and one stem of his sunglasses in his mouth while he listened to what Steve was saying.  His gorgeous blue eyes, sandy hair, and awesome physique made him yummy-looking to any woman staring at him.