Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

M iranda

The alarm is so damn loud. I groan as I burrow into Declan's body.

"Come on, love. This is your last Monday morning. I don't want you late and mad at me for it." Declan kisses me awake.

Did last night really happen? It feels like some crazy dream. Only as I begin to move, little aches bring it all back. I check my wrists and am surprised and relieved there aren't any bruises showing. Considering how I tugged at them when he was driving me to tears, I thought bruises would be wrapped all the way around.

Declan yanks the covers off me. His blue eyes glitter down at me as they roam over my body. I look down, and oh my god, the little bruises and marks are too numerous to count.

It's seriously messed up to be thrilled at the sight of them. To be thrilled that he spent almost three hours punishing me last night. Punished? Who gets off on being punished ?

I did. Declan punishing me was sexy as fuck. Because he didn't do it for fun. It was a lesson in learning to stop putting myself down. He wanted to make sure I never forgot it. How could I not love this man?

He picks me up and carries me into the shower. As he does so often, he takes his time washing me. Strong and gentle, his hands roam over me, waking me up better than any cup of coffee could.

Once he's done, it's my turn. He sighs as he suffers through my greedy hands roaming over him. Okay, my idea of cleaning is not as thorough as his. In minutes, he has me on his lap, and I'm guiding his cock into me. This is the best way to start the day in the world.

Declan dries me off with long strokes of the bath sheet. "Aoife has been to your home and got some of your work clothes. They're in the guest bedroom. She knew not to come into our room this morning."

I shake my head. "You think of everything. It didn't even cross my mind. Thank you for taking care of me."

"My pleasure, love. Now go on before I tumble you back into bed."

Giggling, I wrap the bath sheet around me and nearly skip across the hall to the guest bedroom. In the walk-in closet, I study my suits, trying to figure out what to wear. On the advice of a woman mentor, I had my work clothes custom-made. As a plus size, it wasn't easy to find business suits that flattered me. Separates were easy, slacks and button-down shirts, but they weren't as well made as the clothing the skinny women around me wore.

The initial cost was painful. However, with the quality of the construction and materials, silk, wool, and cotton, they lasted for years. And in the end, they were worth every penny .

I go with my usual black pantsuit and white silk blouse. The moment it's on, it feels tight and uncomfortable. It's not that I've gained weight. After weeks of wearing silky, pretty dresses and soft leggings, it feels restrictive.

Trying to shake off the discomfort, I'm relieved to find Aoife also packed my dryer combo brush I've come to depend on. I hate flat irons and only use them when I absolutely have to. This thing makes me look like I've spent money on a blowout.

Normally, I put my hair in a bun or a slick ponytail. The idea of it gives me a headache now. So, I decide to leave it down.

Downstairs, I find Declan eating breakfast. And my normal breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast waiting.

"What would you like for lunch, dear?" Aoife asks. "Would you like me to pack your leftovers from last night, a sandwich, or there is a last serving of the pot roast from Friday."

"The leftover manicotti would be lovely, thank you." I check the time. "I never come this far north. Which El stop is closest to get me into the loop?"

A dark eyebrow goes up. "It doesn't matter because I'm taking you to work. You will not be using public transport in the future. I'll drive you in the morning and pick you up in the evening. If I'm busy, one of my men will do it."

"Are you serious? Traffic in the loop is a nightmare. It will take you an hour to get there and back. You?—"

He catches me from behind my neck, bringing me to within inches of his lips "Take care of you. That's what I do. I'm here to take care of you. I don't give a fuck if it's an hour or two hours. Your safety is more important than my time. "

His kiss is firm, and I sigh when he lets me go. "Okay."

How can I argue with him? I don't loathe the El in the morning the way a lot of people do, but it's a battle I never look forward to. And it's only for the week.

"Remember, no more late nights. You're to be off no later than five. Tomorrow, we're meeting with Lydia."

I open my mouth to argue, only to close it. I don't want to argue with him. And I love the clothes Lydia shopped for already. "Thank you."

His smile shows his dimples, and I melt. "You're welcome."

The drive to work isn't as bad as I feared, but it's still a solid half-hour. I'm glad he's driving and not me because it stresses me the fuck out. I get a kiss on the cheek when he drops me off.

It feels weird to be back in the office after three weeks away. The glare of the lights inside is harsh and shines over the things I didn't let myself see. I was so proud of getting my office. It's not huge or anything, but I worked to get it. As my marriage fell apart, it was my safe haven where I spent more time than at home.

Looking around, it's embarrassing how little I have here. A picture of my parents taken a few months before my mother died. My diploma from the University of Chicago I was so proud of. It made it sweeter to me that I won a full-ride scholarship and graduated magna cum laude. I delivered on the promise of the scholarship—it was worth all the hard work to get here in this private office.

I thought I would grieve leaving here. All I feel is claustrophobic. With Michael, I looked at my job—my career—as a requirement to my happiness. When Michael told me that I needed to quit to devote myself to being a housewife and supportive partner, I recoiled. To walk away from this meant I would need to depend on Michael for money and security. I had to trust in Michael. And I didn't.

Would I be willing to walk away from my job if I didn't have the money in the bank and my home paid for, waiting if I should need it? Probably not. I can admit. But at the same time, walking away from the years I've given and all the things that came with it isn't easy…

Except it kind of is because I trust Declan.

The knock on my door is brief. Jonah, my boss, opens the door. "Miranda, thank you for coming in to help the transition. I appreciate it." He pauses as he looks over me. "Huh…"

"What?" I'm self-conscious.

"You look different. Add in a tan, and I'd think you spent the last three weeks sunning yourself on the beach without a care in the world."

I blush. "No beach."

"You know, Miranda, I have to admit. I was kind of pissed about you leaving. I've done my best to be a good boss and give you opportunities to succeed. For you to leave so abruptly had me wondering if I wasted my time with you. Seeing you now, I understand. Something better happened for you, and I'm glad it did."

Miranda

On the way home, I'm reading through some of the paperwork I was given by human resources. "Holy shit."

"What?" Declan glances at me .

"I can't believe how much CObrA insurance is. Ugh, I forgot about all the benefits that go along with having a job."

"You won't have to worry about it. I have insurance for my men who work at the pub. You'll go on that."

"Really?"

He chuckles. "Yes, and don't worry, it's not cheap with thousands of dollars in deductibles and limited doctors and specialists. Most of my men are sent from Ireland, where they don't have to worry about paying for medical insurance. It's basically a requirement to them that I provide them with what they're leaving behind. I already put the call in to my agent. All the insurance cards and everything should arrive in the mail in the next week or two. I put you down as the accountant for both pubs. I'll cover the cost like I will for anything you need."

"You think of everything."

"I try. When you talked about your mother and the resentment you felt for your father not giving her everything she needed, I agreed with you. A man should be able to provide for his woman in everything. Whether it's a home to make her own or insurance to keep her healthy and around as long as possible."

"Did you want me to be the accountant for the pubs?"

We're at a red light. His hand catches mine. "I would like that. It would be a huge help to me to have someone I trust reviewing the books. But I'm not going to ask you. For now, I want you to simply take some time to yourself. Spend the days with no worries beyond what book to read next. Once you're bored and want to fill your days with something else, we can discuss what you would like to do from there. "

The light turns green and his attention is back on the road. Do I want to become involved in his business? It's a huge difference from simply accepting it and pretending I don't see what he does. I don't know yet…

Declan has my hand in his as I trail behind him with my mouth open. I could have sworn they didn't have fat chick clothes in here. Is there anyone in here? It feels empty.

The thought is barely finished when a pretty woman appears in the middle of the large walkway. I'm relieved she's my size.

Her smile is wide as she holds her hand out to me. "Hi, I'm Lydia. I have to admit I agreed to this more for me than you. Curiosity over the woman who got this handsome devil to commit was killing me."

I blush as Declan squeezes my hand. "Lydia, this is Miranda. Miranda, dear Lydia, is the best stylist I've ever encountered."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm the only stylist you've ever encountered. How is your cousin doing?"

One shoulder goes up, "Aisling is well. I thought she would come to live in Chicago, but she remains in Galway. Perhaps it's better. There, she has family to help with her daughter since the father was a bastard who ran off at the idea of a child."

"Men. Before I met my husband, I often wished I was gay." She shakes her head. "Well, let's get your closet filled. Declan said you loved the dresses, so I got more styles. I see why he wanted more blues and greens for you. Your eyes are very unique. They're going to look great on you. "

With a sassy smile at Declan, she orders him into a leather club chair. "There's a bottle of that god-awful Irish whiskey you love so much. We'll be back in a few."

I'm taken into a dressing room that I swear is bigger than my first studio apartment. There's a mini fridge with water in one corner. A wall of mirrors on one side, a three-angle mirror in the other corner, a long velvet chaise lounge, and a black leather club chair like the one Declan is in. And along one side is a long bar filled with clothes.

"Holy crap, you weren't kidding about filling my closet." I gasp at the beautiful clothes.

She chuckles. "Your man was adamant. I thought I was going to kill him when he called so late at night and demanded clothes for you. He thinks the reason I agreed to shop for him was because he made a ridiculous donation to a charity I work with. But it wasn't. I've never heard the man stressed in my life. He's one of those who is too charming and hot for their own good. Anything they want, they get. Until you. Hearing him all contrite and worried about you is what did it."

I blush. "I wasn't trying to stress him out. It's like you said—he got whatever he wanted. I expected him to shrug off me not going along with him and move on to the next woman who would."

Her eyes go wide. "Actually, there's no better way to capture their attention than by making them work for you. Even now that you have him. Don't be so quick to give in to everything he wants. I mean, don't go overboard and fight for no reason. When they get too complacent about you, they don't work as hard."

I'm opening my mouth to argue that I don't want to play games in my relationship when I think of Sunday night. And now I understand what she means .

Nodding, "I won't."

"Good. Let's start with these gorgeous maxi dresses."

Over the next two hours, I have more fun than I thought was possible clothes shopping. I usually hated shopping. I felt fat and humiliated and usually ended up crying at home. But Lydia did all the hard work of finding things in my size and bringing them all to one location for me to try on.

I was shocked that half the clothes weren't from this store at all. She had started as a shopper with the store when she first moved here from Boston for women who weren't plus size. Until she had a few clients in a row who were plus size and as frustrated as me. Once she decided to go out on her own, the store loved the business she brought in and allowed her to have appointments in the store—even if that included bringing in clothes they didn't offer.

She sends me out in a dress I have no doubt Declan won't like because of how much it shows. And I'm not wrong.

His eyes narrow, and blue flares with heat. He shakes his head. "Absolutely not."

Lydia rolls her eyes. "Why not? It looks good on her."

That eyebrow goes up. "It doesn't look good on her. She's stunning in it. And her sexy as fuck body is on display. For the safety of other men, she won't be wearing it."

Laughing, Lydia shakes her head. "You neanderthal men. Fine."

I'm changed out of my suit into a teal shirt dress Declan loves. As Declan pays and points out what he wants to take home tonight and the time for the rest to be delivered tomorrow Colm appears carrying a paper bag .

Declan takes it and hands it to Lydia. "Since I'm aware you aren't able to leave before organizing everything. I didn't like the idea of you not having dinner until much later. This is the dish you had when you went out with Aisling. I hope it's still a favorite of yours."

Taking the bag, she sighs. "It's so annoying you always manage to make me forgive you for being such a bossy know-it-all. This is still very much a favorite. Thank you, Declan."

His grin is wicked, flashing a dimple. "You're welcome. And since it will be late and dark once you're ready to leave, Colm will remain and see you home."

"Oh no, there's no need?—"

Losing his smile, Declan is serious. "There is a need. Your safety is not up for negotiation. I spoke with your husband in London, and he would rip out my throat the moment he's back in the States, as he should, if he was aware I allowed you to see your own way home. You didn't tell him you'd be working late tonight with us. I do believe he's unhappy with you in that regard."

She blushes. "If he's going to be out of town then I'm not sitting at home missing him. Besides, I'm going to hail a cab home. I'll be outside for all of three minutes tops."

"Then, for those three minutes, Colm will be by your side." He's firm.

"Fine. I give up."

I laugh at how clearly she wants to argue. I'm also proud of Declan for being so thoughtful and caring about her safety. I have no doubt it's not about her husband worrying about her .

"Oh, I almost forgot." She takes a card out of her pocket and hands it to me. "This is for all the fun stuff. Panties, bras, all the good stuff. Gertrude will get you everything you need, including things you didn't know you need."

Declan takes the card from me. "Thank you. We'll be seeing her soon."

Blushing, I allow Declan to pull me away from Lydia and out of the store.

Back in the car, we don't go far before turning into a parking lot. "Oh, wow, I've heard of this place. But I've never been."

"They have the best queso. I keep asking Aoife to replicate it, and when she can't, we both get annoyed."

"Oh, my god. I love queso. Sometimes, it's all I would have for dinner."

During dinner we talk about his cousin, Aisling. And I'm surprised that while Colm is his cousin and they are good friends, he considers Ryan his best friend. I feel like I don't know nearly enough about him, especially his family.

Once we're home, I go straight upstairs to hang up the clothes we brought home. I sigh with happiness to see them in the closet.

Declan wraps his arms around me. "I spent almost two hours hard for you. Seeing you in clothes you were happy and sexy in."

I turn and go up on tiptoe. "Ah, poor Declan. Let me make it up to you."