SEAN: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 3) (4 page)

Chapter 5

 

Sean

I was reviewing the legality of the real estate contract for the building downtown when my phone buzzed.

“Mr. McGuire would like to speak to you immediately.”

“Thank you, Janice.”

I closed the file folder that held the contract and stood, tugging on my tie to straighten it. I still wasn’t quite used to wearing a noose around my neck all the time, but I didn’t feel like I was suffocating all the time anymore. I shrugged into my coat and headed out, aware that I should be nervous but not really feeling it like I thought I would.

Jack obviously found out about Delaney’s encounter with her ex last night. There was no other reason for him to call me up to his office in the middle of the afternoon.

I wonder what he’d think if he knew I’d figured out who she was. And I wondered how he’d feel if he knew how she’d kissed me last night, how it felt to hold her in my arms. I wondered if he’d be satisfied with just putting me in my grave, or if he’d need more satisfaction than that.

It was funny how fathers like Jack are about their daughters. I remembered when Jack’s older daughters began dating, how most of the guys who showed even the slightest interest trembled in their boots every time Jack leveled his gaze on them. And the way my own father reacted when Stacy began dating. He’d literally pulled a gun on one boy he’d caught slipping his hand under her shirt on the living room couch. It was lucky for Stacy that she’d married Killian. Anyone else and Pops probably would have done more than wave a gun around.

It was still a little odd thinking about my older brother married to my little sister—not that we were related by blood in any stretch of the imagination—and now they were expecting a kid any minute. But they were happy. Any idiot could see that just by looking at them. Even me.

Tom, Jack’s secretary-slash-bodyguard gestured for me to go right in.

“Sean,” Jack said, setting down the phone quite dramatically as I walked in. He stood and came around his desk, gesturing for me to take a seat on the couch set invitingly off to one side of his spacious office. “I hope I didn’t pull you away from anything important.”

“Just the contracts for the new building downtown.”

“How’s that looking?”

“Good. We should have a deal in a day or two.”

“That’s good news.”

Jack unbuttoned his coat as he took a seat across from me, his eyes never leaving mine. I could see now how much Delaney’s eyes were like his. The thought was a little unsettling, but not enough to stop me from thinking about the way her lips had tasted, how her hand had felt against my chest, how good it would have been to pick her up and carry her up to her bed.

I regretted not doing it from the moment I left her condo—even though I knew, deep down, that I’d done the right thing. She wasn’t ready. She might never be ready.

“I had lunch with Delaney Doherty today. I noticed she had something of a fat lip.”

I inclined my head slightly to acknowledge that fact, picturing it in my head as it was last night. It must have swelled a bit more in the night for it to be obvious to him.

“She said she had an encounter with that ex of hers again. Didn’t tell me exactly what happened, but the evidence was pretty clear on her face.”

“He was waiting for her outside of the gym. They argued and I intervened.”

“You intervened?”

“I was there. He’s not going to touch her again anytime soon.”

“You taught him a lesson?”

I shrugged. “I laid him out pretty good.”

Jack sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “She did suggest that she thought he wouldn’t be coming around again. Mentioned that he hadn’t sent the usual threatening text message this morning.”

“That’s good, right?”

“But how did he get a shot in if you were there?”

Jack’s eyes narrowed as he watched me, a dangerous look that warned me to tread carefully.

“You don’t want her to know that I’m following her for you. I couldn’t just charge in there because it just wouldn’t seem like a guy just trying to help an acquaintance out would do that.”

“You let him hit her?”

“No. But she tried to defend herself and it backfired a little.”

“She did?”

“She got a good punch in before he hit her.”

Jack studied me a long second, then a big smile blossomed across his face. “That right?”

“Yes, sir.”

He laughed. “Good for her.”

“She’s a smart girl, Jack. She’s a quick learner. She’s already picked up quite a bit, hanging out at the gym.”

“You’re teaching her?”

“The best I can.”

“Good. I want her to be able to defend herself. With everything that’s been going on around here, she might need those skills. I don’t want what happened to your father’s daughter to happen to Delaney.”

Brianna, my half-sister—whom I didn’t know existed until nearly a year ago—was kidnapped last year in an attempt by some unknown person to get information that would help bring my father down. Pops, Killian, and Ian managed to rescue her, but the damage was already done. Ever since, this person, whoever he was, had gone after more than a dozen of Jack’s people, killed Stacy’s fiancé, and paid a hitman to take out Killian. And it looked like whoever this person was had a mole inside the organization because the cops were learning things they should never in a million years have been able to put together. Plus, our biggest rival, the Italian mob, was getting information that was allowing them to impinge on some of our territory.

It was a mess.

“I won’t let that happen, Jack.”

Jack leaned forward and touched my knee. “I know, son. That’s why I chose you. I knew you would watch over her without taking advantage of the situation. Killian’s so busy with his new wife, and Ian…that boy…” He smiled. “I never knew it was possible for a boy to be so like his godfather.” The pride in Jack’s expression was almost palatable. “Always a new woman on his arm, the next better looking than the last. It’ll be a special woman who finally ties him down.”

I could only agree. Ian was about my age, one of dozens of foster children my mom brought home in the course of her career as a county social worker. He was adopted by our family when we were both about twelve. His parents were gone, his father killed in a training exercise in the Army and his mother of cancer when he was seven. He bounced around dozens of foster homes before my mom found him, having no other relatives any one could find.  Now he managed a bunch of businesses my father bought over the years—a couple of restaurants here in Boston, a casino in Las Vegas, a working ranch in West Texas—but he mostly ran the protection detail my father ran for Jack and his men when he wasn’t entertaining one beautiful woman or another.

“Delaney’s fine,” I said, drawing Jack back to the conversation at hand.

“I know I can trust you, Sean. Just…keep that asshole away from her. And if he touches her again, you come to me. Don’t let me find out some other way.”

“Of course.”

Jack inclined his head, then stood. I stood, too, letting him lead me to the door with a hand on my shoulder.

“She’s a good girl, so much more like her mother than she’ll ever be like me. And I’m grateful for that.”

I glanced at him, a little surprised that he’d admit to being her father so easily after all the cloak and dagger when he first asked me to watch over her. He’d implied she was his lover before…

“This girl is extremely important to me, Sean,” he said. “If anything happens to her…”

“Sean is a good boy,” Pops told Jack. “He’ll take good care of her.”

They both studied me as if I was a book with an intriguing cover.

“No one touches her. You understand that?”

“I do, sir.”

“I’ve chosen you because I know I can trust you and because you were the best boxer in the family, so I know you can teach her a few things. She’s fiercely independent. She needs to learn how to defend herself, you understand.”

“I do.”

“Just remember she’s my girl. I will not be forgiving if anything happens to her.”

“Of course.”

I didn’t know how to answer Jack. So I didn’t.

He patted my shoulder. “Thanks, Sean.”

I walked away feeling as if I’d just been warned, but I just wasn’t sure what the warning was about.

***

The gym was a little busier tonight than it’d been recently. Delaney was already there, working on the heavy bag when I came in. Like the night before, I watched from the doorway for a moment. She had good form. Her arms were up where they should have been, her punches landing accurately. She was clearly learning what I’d been teaching her.

She was wearing those yoga pants again, a white t-shirt hanging low over her ass. This one wasn’t transparent, but there was something about the loose way in which it fit that still made my balls tighten. Or maybe it was just seeing her, just knowing what was under there, the memory of touching her that made my thoughts go places they shouldn’t. I never should have kissed her; I never should have allowed myself to touch or be touched.

Jack would kill me if he knew. And I should respect that; I should respect his wishes.

But how do you ignore this sort of instant attraction?

I dropped my bag on a bench and crossed to where she was working up a fine sweat, her forehead shining in the dim light. She had her blond hair pulled back into a ponytail again. It was pulled tight across her head with the tail itself dancing with every move she made. I slid my hands over her arms, sliding them down to her wrists, not to correct her, but because I couldn’t resist the touch. She stopped moving, tension flashing through her body but then disappearing as she leaned back into me.

We stood that way for a long moment, then she twisted away.

“I’m really not in the mood for this today,” she said softly, cutting through my chest with each syllable.

“Okay.”

“I, um…” Her eyes came up slowly to meet mine. “Would you go to dinner with me? Would you let me buy you dinner?”

My eyebrows rose. “Yeah?”

“I’m hungry. And I feel like I owe you something…”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Then maybe I’d just like to get to know you a little.”

I should have liked that idea, but this little thought in the back of my head was like an alarm going off.

You don’t want to know me. I’m not a good man.

But the idea of spending more time with her, just staring at her across a dinner table, was too much to resist.

I inclined my head. “Okay.”

She smiled brightly. “Great. Then…” She hesitated, glancing down at herself. “I guess we should go somewhere casual.”

“There’s a little place down the street I know. I think you’d like it.”

“Yeah?”

I gestured for her to lead the way. She smiled, happy to be leaving with me. Again, that thought flashed through my mind:
You don’t want to know me. I’ll just let you down.

I grabbed my bag, and we walked side by side. There was a heavy silence between us for a block or two, but then we both started to talk at the same time.

“How do you—?”

“I’m sure you—”

She laughed, pausing in her step to look up at me. “Sorry,” she said softly. “I was just wondering how you know this neighborhood so well.”

“My father grew up around here. He used to bring us down here, show us around. Even trained us at the gym.”

“Us?”

“I have a couple of brothers.”

She nodded, beginning to walk again. “I always wanted siblings, but my mom said she’d done it once. She wasn’t interested in doing it again.”

“She got perfection in you.”

She nodded, a wry smile twisting her lips. “That’s what she said, but I think she just didn’t want to go through the whole pregnancy thing again. Too uncomfortable.”

I thought about Stacy, her body swollen with Killian’s child. It looked painful, but she was always smiling, always so excited when the baby moved. She clearly didn’t mind being pregnant.

“Does that frighten you away from the idea of doing it yourself?”

“Everyone comes to experiences differently. I think I might want to try it, figure it out for myself.”

“So you’re open to having children?”

She touched my arm lightly. “First date is a little too soon to be asking questions like that, isn’t it?”

I felt heat flash over my face. I hadn’t meant it that way, but…

She laughed. “Just kidding.”

We ducked into the restaurant a minute later. It was a small English-style pub run by an old friend of my father’s. The place was busy, as it always tended to be, but the owner himself was standing just inside the door, and he came rushing over when he recognized me.

“Sean, me boy!” He patted me on the shoulder as he pulled us inside. “It’s been too long.”

“Hello, Patrick. How have you been?”

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