Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

CATLIN

Walking home from the gym, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end when the black SUV driving past me slows to a crawl. My heart begins racing, and I pick up my pace to a brisk walk.

“Hey,” a slightly familiar voice calls from the window as it lowers. “Get in, Catlin. I’ll give you a ride home. Or wherever it is you’re going.”

Finnigan ?

“I…I’m good,” I stammer, heeding Uncle Sean’s warning. Even without it, I know better than to climb into cars with strange men. Especially in the middle of the night. “It’s only a couple of blocks away.”

He abruptly stops the SUV in the middle of the street and storms toward me on the sidewalk. I am completely fixated on his black eye and bloody lower lip; by the time my brain registers the idea of running, he’s towering over me and reaching for my arm. As I recoil from him, he barks, “Get in the fucking truck, Catlin.”

“I’d rather not.” I vehemently shake my head.

“Trust me.” He gestures behind me. “I have way better intentions than those three fecking blokes following you.”

Suddenly spinning around, my heart leaps into my throat when I find three men not more than fifteen meters from me, hungrily eyeing me over. I might not know with certainty, but I can only imagine what their intentions were.

Or what would have happened if Finn didn’t stop .

“Please.” Finn softens his tone, outstretching his hand toward mine. “Get in the truck, Catlin.”

With a heavy breath to gather my courage, I let him take my hand. Firmly holding it in his, he walks me toward the SUV still running in the middle of the street and opens the door for me to get in.

“What the hell are you doing walking out here alone this late at night?” he gruffly asks as he slides behind the wheel.

“I… um… I’m walking back home from the gym.”

“And home is…”

“The church,” I answer, and his brows furrow in confusion.

“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s not safe?” he presses as he slips the SUV into drive.

“Yes,” I admit. “But it was only a few blocks.”

“The same bad shit can happen in one that can in ten,” he lectures.

Passing under a streetlight, the light illuminates the car enough that I notice the bloodied knuckles of his hand wrapped around the steering wheel. “From your appearance, I’m going to assume I’m not the first damsel-in-distress you rescued tonight.”

“No, sweetheart.” He chuckles. “These are from work. Not counting my favorite cute little redhead, you are the only pretty girl I’ve had in my car this week.”

“Oh.” The exclamation falls over my lips before I can stop it.

“Oh?” He coyly smiles. “Is that ‘oh, the cute little redhead?’ or ‘oh, work’?”

“Both,” I softly answer honestly.

“You’ve met the redhead. She’s about three feet tall and absolutely adorable.” I can’t help but smile at his answer and how much he clearly adores his niece. “And I can only imagine Father O’Flaherty has told you plenty about what my family does for work.”

I silently nod in agreement.

“It’s true,” he admits. “Whatever he may have told you, it’s probably true.”

Taking in his battered and bloody appearance as he admits that he’s everything Uncle Sean said he is—a shameless womanizer, a thief, and a murderer—I don’t feel the least bit unsafe sitting beside him.

“But… You saved me tonight…” My words trail off as I stare at him.

Pulling to a stop before the church, the leather of his seat crinkles as he turns to face me and replies, “Of course I did.”

“It’s just…”

“What? Tell me what you’re thinking.”

The streetlight above us causes his blue eyes to twinkle as he stares at me, awaiting my answer. My gaze wanders over his face and back to his eyes, which have a softness that I didn’t notice when we first met. “Just… With what I’ve heard and how you talk to me… I can’t help but wonder if you’re a bad man who does good things or a good man who does bad things.”

“I guess you’ll just have to get to know me to find out.” A flirtatious grin spreads across his face, causing heated crimson to creep over mine.

Uncle Sean would lose his mind if he caught me in this car. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I’ve never met a man like Finn or if it’s how he looks at me, but there is definitely something keeping me from opening the door. Mustering every bit of courage I have, I blurt, “Okay.”

That one word leads to hundreds more, and hours pass as we sit in his Bronco under the dim lighting and talk. Glancing at the dash, I realize it’s a little after midnight. With a hesitancy due to being unsure of my own words, I mutter, “I should probably go.”

With gravelly sureness, he responds, “I’d rather you didn’t.”

The warm flush he keeps causing spreads over my cheeks, and I struggle to maintain eye contact with him. “Thank you for the ride home.”

“Anytime,” he croons as I reach for the door handle. Dusting his hand over my arm, he opens his door. “Let me.”

Quickly slipping from the driver’s seat, he rounds the SUV. He opens the door and extends a hand to help me from my seat. As I slide from the SUV, I am practically pressed against him when my feet hit the pavement. I breathe in his spicy vanilla-laced cologne as I stare up at him.

“I mean it.” He delicately sweeps a strand of hair from my face. His fingers dust my skin as he tucks it behind my ear, and a surge of electricity pimples goosebumps up my body. He glides his hand over my bare shoulder and down my arm. He carefully pulls my phone from my grasp and swipes his thumb over it to find it locked. Gently cupping my hand, he presses my thumb to the censor to unlock it. He taps the screen, and a ding comes from his pocket as he lays the phone back in my palm. “Next time you need a ride this late at night, you have my number.”

“Thank you.” I lean into him and press onto my tippy toes to place a chaste, appreciative kiss on his cheek. When I accidentally meet his soft, warm lips instead, I gasp. Abruptly pulling back, my fingers replace his lips on mine, and I mutter, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” He drags his tongue along his lower lip. “That was the fucking highlight of my night.”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I take a few steps backward. “Good night, Finnigan.”

Not breaking our stare as he closes the passenger door, he coyly smiles at me and returns the sentiment. “Good night, Catlin.”