“Were you sent from heaven?” she asked, flopping onto a chair as I wiped down the counter.

I shot her a devilish look. “Household chores and orgasms are the way to a woman’s heart, right?”

She flushed and I grinned in triumph. I dried my hands with a dish cloth and strode across the room to kneel before her. “Speaking of the latter,” I whispered and leaned forward to kiss her neck.

She let out a quiet moan and wriggled in place. “We can’t.”

“Let me touch you,” I pleaded. “Just for a little while.”

My hands roamed her thighs, her hips. She trembled. I licked a line from her neck to her earlobe, sucking it into my mouth and loving how she gripped my shoulders in response.

“Bryan,” she gasped when I kissed my way to her chin and gave her a little nip with my teeth.

“If you let me, I’d make you come for the entire night. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I have incredible stamina.” I spoke low and husky, trying to keep the mood light, and her skin flushed red with desire.

In that moment I thought she might give in, but then her grip on my shoulders tightened, and she pushed me away. She was shaking her head, and I frowned. It had been weeks since we’d kissed, really kissed.

“Patrick’s in the next room. We really can’t do this. I’m sorry,” she said, worrying her lip like she was afraid I’d be angry, but I wasn’t.

Not really. Just tremendously frustrated and crazy in love with a woman who didn’t love me back.

No big deal.

I stood, gritting my teeth, and glanced at the clock, catching sight of the time. I had an evening training session I needed to get to and, honestly, I was relieved for the excuse to leave.

“Don’t apologize. You’re right, and I need to get going anyway.”

“Will we see you this week?” she asked, and seeing the knit of her brow, the plain frustration on her features, my uneasiness actually eased.

I lifted Eilish’s hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Yes. Absolutely. Does tomorrow work?”

Eilish rubbed at her brow. “I’m working all day tomorrow, and Patrick will be at school, but you’re welcome to stop by the day after. We could watch a movie and order pizza?”

“Sure, sounds great,” I told her and dipped down to give her a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll see you then.”

I left, already anticipating the next time we’d all be together, but I couldn’t seem to master the pressing doubt in the back of my mind.

I loved her. I was in love with her. It had happened so organically, so naturally as I got to know her, but I couldn’t help notice that she was constantly pushing me away. We hadn’t gone on any more dates since our first and I wondered if, maybe if I took her out and we had a proper chance to talk, maybe . . .

On the drive my phone rang, pulling me from my frustrated thoughts. I thought it might be Mam calling to catch up. She’d started making an attempt to lower her alcohol intake, but she wasn’t sober yet, not by a long shot. Still, she was down from three bottles of wine a night to one, and that was a huge improvement.

I frowned when I saw the number wasn’t my mother’s, but Eilish’s. Again. What the hell was she calling for? I hoped like hell I wasn’t being summoned to another family brunch. Hitting “accept,” I put the phone on speaker.

“Cara, good to hear from you,” I lied. “How have you been?”

“Hello, Bryan. I’m quite well. And you?”

“Just dandy.”

She cleared her throat. “I thought I’d call since I hear you and Eilish have been spending a lot of time together.”

My mouth formed a thin line. Just who, exactly had she been hearing this from? “We’ve been seeing each other, yes.”

“Dating is the term I believe they use nowadays.”

I frowned at the phone, then at the road, then back at the phone again. Where was she going with this? “That’s right. I like your daughter a lot, Mrs. Cassidy.”

“And the child? Am I to assume you’ve accepted him as your own?”

The child? What the fuck was this woman on?

“Cara, not to sound blunt, but what’s this phone call about? You can be upfront with me. I don’t need empty pleasantries.”

There was a long moment of silence and I wondered if I’d offended her. I just didn’t see the point of beating around the bush. I might have a decent name thanks to my father, who was rich enough to be considered respectable in Cara Cassidy’s eyes, but I was under no illusions that she liked me. I already knew she was aware of my past and found it all distasteful.

“As you wish,” she said, recovering. “Now that you are aware you have a son, I was simply wondering what you plan to do about it?”

“Do about it?”

My vaguely hostile tone didn’t faze her as she continued. “The respectable thing would be to marry my daughter and solidify her position in society. She’s gone long enough as a black mark on our name, and even though we can’t restore her image completely we can at least salvage some of—”

“Okay, I’m going to stop you right there, Cara. This isn’t the nineteenth century, and I’m not going to be manipulated, guilt-tripped, or bullied into marrying your daughter just because you think it will somehow restore her virtue. There’s no restoration needed. Eilish is a wonderful person, and she’s done an amazing job bringing up our son. You’re the only one who can’t see it.”