The Hurricane
Page 24“Nothing is going on with me and O’Connell,” I stated flatly.
“Really, darlin’,” Danny replied with a chuckle.
“You must think I’m a right eejit. When he’s not training, that boy’s walking round with a stupid bloody grin on his face, and he’s spent the last half an hour checking the door every time it opens. Now, if he’s not looking for you, I’m a feckin’ monkey’s uncle.”
I kind of squeaked and looked at the door myself, remembering that I hadn’t seen O’Connell on the way in.
“Not you, too, sunshine,” Danny snorted.
“Don’t bother looking for lover boy. I’ve sent him on a long run. See if that helps with his concentration. Now, get to work, wench, and earn your keep.”
He laughed again to himself and left the room whistling some tune, in any key but the right one, and in a better mood that I’d ever seen him.
I sat down hard on the office chair and stayed there for a good five minutes while I processed what was happening. There was no way that I could take any credit for anything that was going on with O’Connell, but I couldn’t help the small spark of hope that maybe I hadn’t been dismissed as easily as I’d thought.
Determined to get a grip and stop mooning over some non-existent, fictional relationship, I started work. Danny came back about an hour later for a refill on his coffee, and I barely spared him a glance, determined to rise above his needling and prove him wrong. When the door went again, I didn’t look up until I felt breath hot against my neck.
“Jesus Christ!” I yelped as my heart jumped into my mouth. I spun my chair around to see O’Connell wearing the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. He was shirtless, as usual, and wearing the uniform shorts that he always trained in. He leaned his sweaty ripped torso forward and laid his hands onto the desk either side of me, trapping me in the circle of his arms. Even sweaty from training, he still smelt good, and I wondered how it would feel to kiss my way down those abdominals. He was so built and hard that being this close made me feel even smaller and more fragile than I usually felt. I noticed straight away that my neat, black, cursive still adorned his chest.
“Shouldn’t that have washed off by now?” I asked. I sucked in a breath as a thought occurred to me. “I didn’t use permanent ink, did I? I thought it would come off with water.”
“Holy shit!” I whispered. “You’ve had it tattooed on you.”
“YOU SHOULDN’T CURSE,” he teased.
I ran my fingertips back and forth across his skin, in case I was wrong, but sure enough, the ridges of the text were slightly red and scabbed.
“But...” I muttered, at a complete loss for words. O’Connell seemed to find my reaction highly amusing.
“You should see your face, sunshine.”
“They weren’t even my words,” I exclaimed, as though he could still somehow change his mind about the tattoo.
“I know. But you gave them to me.”
“But my handwriting is terrible,” I replied, horrified yet exhilarated with what he’d done.
“It’s perfect, and it will give me a good story to tell our kids.”
“Holy shit!” I whispered again. I was sure he took pleasure in leaving me speechless as he laid a gentle kiss on my head and moved toward the door. On his way out, he turned back to me.
“I’ll wait,” I replied, as I felt my cheeks reddening.
He grinned back knowingly, and as he shut the door behind him, I crossed my legs to relieve the ache.
The door tapped a little bit later, and in walked Tommy, more subdued than I’d ever seen him.
“Hey, Tommy.” I smiled. “What’s up?”
“Thought I’d get in while Con’s distracted and try for that number,” he answered.
“Sorry.” I grinned back. “Numbers are tomorrow night, you know that.”
He rubbed that back of his neck in a gesture that betrayed his unease.
“About that. Me Da’s broken his leg which means he can’t work, so I’m gonna need to help Ma out with the rent. I’ve had a word with Danny, and he’s knocking my subs down to five quid a week for the next month till I can get my folks back on their feet. Danny wanted me to tell you in case he forgets to mention it.”
“Oh no!” I exclaimed. “Is he all right? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“He’s okay, thanks Em. He just feels like a bit of an eejit for falling down the steps drunk. Ma tore him a new one, though.”
“Well,” he drawled, with his trademark confidence. “Maybe I should take your number, you know, just in case I can think of a way you can help.”
I laughed at his tenacity and pointed toward the door.
“Go, and let me get on with some work before Danny catches us skiving. If you need me, you know where to find me.”
He left happier than when he’d arrived, and I got to work. Hours later, I was immersed in numbers when O’Connell walked in, drenched with sweat.
“Hey, sunshine, I’m just grabbing a shower. You about done here?” he asked.
“Sure,” I sighed. “I’ll close down out here and meet you outside.”
“No, stay here where it’s warm, and I’ll come and get you in a minute.”
I shut down the computer and put on my coat and scarf, making sure to turn off the heater and coffee machine. His must have been the quickest shower in history, but I was ready by the time he came for me. He grabbed my bag without asking and threw it over his shoulder with his training bag. The gym was empty by the time we left, but I assumed that Danny was still here as the lights were all on and someone had to lock up.
“You know, Danny was right. When I first came in here the smell was disgusting, and now, I’m so used to it, I can’t smell anything at all.”
O’Connell chuckled at that, and then frowned when I buried myself deeper into my coat as we hit the fresh air.