Tiggy follows me into my office, placing her purse on the table as I kick the door shut behind me. She looks at me while I shove my hands into my pockets, appraising her.
“So. What am I supposed to do here? I brought a book.”
Ah, her poetry book. She can sit in the corner and read it if she likes. It might get repetitious for her.
I cross to her, sighing as I pluck up her splinted right hand. I hadn’t given much thought to what she could do here. I would let her stay at home with one of the other lads while Niall is off hunting these fucking Bulgarians, but everything conspired to wind me up this morning, and I found myself blurting out that she would start coming here.
Paddy was fucking pissed about it, and he wasn’t afraid to make his feelings known. He’s sulking now because I put him in his place. He’s still convinced Tig’s a spy. If she is, she’s a fucking shite one.
Rage surges through me as I look at the splint on her hand. She should never have been touched. The fact that she was injured is unacceptable. I can’t wait to see the fuckers responsible bleed out. Niall won’t like it, but I think I’ll kill them myself.
“I’m sure we can find you something to do,leannán. Maybe with an iPad.”
Tiggy looks up from where she was staring at her hand too, amusement flashing in her eye as she raises her left hand. Her plain gold wedding band flashes in the light as she waves her hand around.
“I’m left-handed.”
“You are?”
“All my life.”
She’s being a smart-arse, taunting me, but I smirk down at her.
“Good. That will make things easier. Ye can get started with the inventory and stocktake. Then ye can come back in here to do the bookkeeping.”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
She mocks a salute with her left hand, grinning up at me. Growling, I close my fingers around her right wrist, tugging her close to me, my lips crashing down on hers.
Tiggy moans, wrapping her left arm around my waist as I release her wrist, sliding both hands into her hair to hold her head at the right angle for me to deepen the kiss.
“Smart arse,” I mutter against her mouth. She giggles, pressing herself against me. Jesus fuck. If she doesn’t leave, I will have her bent over this desk, buried balls deep in her, in less than two minutes flat.
“Ye should go do stocktake,leannán, or ye won’t be leaving this office for a long while.”
Tiggy sighs as I lift my head, staring at me with a flushed face. “What’s my reward for doing a good job?” she asks impishly. I grin down at her.
“Maybe ye should do a good job to find out,” I rumble.
“Okay.”
I swat her pert arse as she smiles at me over her shoulder, walking to the door.
“Ye’ll need this,leannán.”
Swiping the iPad off my desk, I tap around until I find the inventory app, opening it and handing it to her. As her fingers close around it, I press another quick kiss to her lips.
“I’m going to be wicked quick,” she boasts. A grin tugs at my lips.
“I’ll be waiting.”
My eyes drink in her swinging hips as she leaves, closing the door firmly behind her. Bringing my wife here might be the best decision I ever made.
TIGGY
It turns out there is a lot for me to do at the club, even with a busted hand. Luckily I’m left-handed, so my broken fingers don’t affect my writing ability. If I am here every day, I will get thoroughly sick of stocktake, inventory, and bookkeeping, but I’m also glad not to be stuck in our house anymore, so I’m not about to complain.
I walk out of Seamus’s office with a goofy grin. He didn’t really tell mewhereto go to do a stocktake, but I’m sure I can figure it out.