“Good.” Her chin wobbled, and I saw her eyes were filling with tears. Her voice was watery as she added, “Because you’re stuck with me, too. I deserve you, Ronan Fitzpatrick.”

I laughed. “God help you.”

She huffed then sucked in an unsteady breath, but her eyes didn’t waver from mine. “And I deserve constancy and honesty. I deserve respect and love. I deserve unfailing devotion.”

“You have all of that—you have all of me.”

She nodded, and I was relieved to see her tears recede, though she still looked weary.

“Ah, my Annie. Love is terrifying, I know because I’m also terrified of losing you. But I know now that it’s also amazing. And we’re in this together. Never forget that.” I murmured the last of these words as I bent and captured her lips softly. My hands found each of her shoulders and began to massage them. She was wound so tight, and I felt a powerful urge to relax her—not to mention my need to touch her everywhere was practically consuming me.

“I thought you were going to kill one of those photographers back there,” she said in between my kisses as she took a rushed breath. I was planting them all over her face now, my hands cupping her neck, thumbs rubbing the little indents at the base of her throat.

“I almost did, but you know what? I’m learning to deal with it,” I murmured in devotion. “There are always going to be paps, Annie, and there are always going to be journalists to write lies about me, about us; but I’m realizing it doesn’t matter. None of it does. See? I’m maturing.”

She hiccuped a little laugh.

I continued, “All that matters is that I have you. The rest is background noise. It’s not worth breaking a nail over, never mind losing my temper. And if it means we get to be together, I’ll take it all with a smile on my face because you and me, darling, we’re the real deal. You are worth fighting for. I’m not letting you go now, not for all the tea in China.”

Annie smiled and let out a nervous chuckle as I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth. “That’s a lot of tea.”

“Fuck yeah, it is.” I laughed and kissed her properly, my tongue sliding against hers, tasting and exploring every inch of her soft, perfect mouth. Only this morning I thought I’d never get to do this again, never be able to drink her in and feel my heart getting bigger and bigger with all the love I felt for this beautiful woman that I wanted to possess until I was old and gray.

She clutched at my shirt as my hands traveled down her spine, reaching under to cup her arse. She gasped into my mouth as we fit against each other, and I pulled her closer to me, cursing the gear stick that separated us. I was mentally trying to figure out how to get her under me when somebody rapped loudly on the window. We broke apart, chests heaving, the sounds of our labored breaths filling the space as I turned to see a stern New York cop glaring down at me. I rolled down my window and was told we were parked in a handicapped spot and needed to move, pronto.

Annie groaned a little, fixing her top back in place, as I pulled the car back out onto the road. When we reached Davidson & Croft, I drove up to the entrance and let her out to deal with Joan while I went in search of somewhere to leave my car. I allowed myself a moment to soak in the sight of her arse as she walked off and was on cloud nine when she turned twice, smiling over her shoulder at me, looking braver each time.

Once she was safely inside, I drove away.

I couldn’t believe I had this woman. This woman who seemed designed by some divine power specifically to be mine, and I was designed to be hers. One thing was for certain—as soon as she was done talking to her boss, we were going back to my place, and we wouldn’t be leaving for a long, long time.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The Shameless Snap: When all else fails, lift your phone, focus the camera, and just take the fucking picture.

Best for: Situations where being stealthy is not possible or necessary.

Do not use: If the subject of your photo is prone to violence, or has diplomatic immunity (or both).

*Annie*

“I don’t know how else to say this other than…I resign.”

Joan blinked at me three times very slowly over steepled fingers and with a blank expression.

“I see….” she said.

I fiddled with the envelope and then placed it on her desk. We stared at each other for a long moment, her expression giving away nothing of her thoughts. She didn’t take the envelope.

I was just about to explain myself when she continued, “Yes. I see. It’s for the best. I was going to have to fire you. Dara Evans has already called about that article you wrote on St. Patrick’s Day as well as your little coming-out article this morning. She wants to sue us. Your resigning makes sense for the company.”

I nodded, firming my lips. I was a disappointed. I think part of me hoped Joan wouldn’t let me resign. I liked my job most of the time, especially when I was working with public figures who deserved the good reputation and ideal image I helped them achieve.

But I was also relieved.

Helping people like Dara Evans had always felt like trying to put a shine on poop.

“Thank you for everything, Joan.”

I gave her a half smile, and her eyebrows lifted a notch, betraying a hint of surprise.

“Are you referring to when you lost your shit, or are you referring to all my excellent professional mentorship over the last year?”

“All of it. Thank you. You’re a…you’re a good friend.”