Sure, and why would I touch his wife when I want no one but Mellie. I don’t blame him for the shot he took at my jaw. If anyone unzipped Mellie’s dress, I’d be feeding them their teeth as well.
Seamus’s eyes burn into mine for a moment, and he nods stiffly, running a hand through his hair as he sighs.
“Get some sleep, Niall. I think you’re in for a hell of a ride with this one. I don’t trust her.”
“I don’t trust her either,” I confess, turning to my room next door as he slides inside to take care of his wife.
Chapter Eight
MELLIE
I almost missed the freaking bus this morning. All because of the stupid sleeping tablet I took last night. It was silly of me. I should never have taken it, but I’ve been sleeping terribly and jumping at shadows since Niall hasn't been at the club.
Stupid Seamus Fitzpatrick’s new wife, who needs a freaking bodyguard. I thought they didn’t like her –shouldn’t they be okay with the woman being offed? Or would that hurt their truce? Stupid mobsters and their stupid wars, keeping Niall from me.
Stupid sleeping tablets. Stupid May... Ow! Freaking Ow! Stupid pigeon!
I stand in the middle of the street, shrieking like a crazy person, fighting off the grey demon bird that has become tangled up in my hair.
With a small –yet I personally feel impressive –war cry, I smack both the psycho bird and the side of my head with my purse. Ow!
Whatever. I’m rewarded for sacrificing the side of my head because I manage to get the freaking Hitchcockian thriller extra off me. It hits the ground with a thud, opens an eye, glares at me, and flips over, waddling off. Crazy thing.
Not wanting to be attacked by any other freaking kamikaze birds, I hurry inside, my purse raised over my head, shoving hair out of my eyes.
Arthur isn’t in the main bar yet, but that’s okay. I know exactly what I’m doing here each day. The benefits of almost a year’s service.
I stalk into the VIP bar, feeling out of sorts and self-conscious. I always make sure my hair is freaking on point when I come to work. I never know when Niall might be in. I know he hasn’t been in recently, but I want to be looking my best on the off-chance.
I’m not looking my best now. At least he isn’t here. Connor Fitzpatrick is. He’s always around during the early afternoon getting his poker tables upstairs ready for a night of play.
I’m right to feel self-conscious about my hair. Connor’s eyes land on it, dancing with amusement as he snorts. Asshole.
“It’s called a brush, Mellie. Have you heard of it? Or don’t we pay you enough to afford one?”
He’s only teasing me, but because I’m in a bad mood, I lose my head, flipping him off and snarking back at him instead of laughing it off. Jesus. Did I wake up with a death wish and a bad mood?
“I own plenty of brushes. I just didn’t think to pack one and stopped for a quickie up against the side of the building.”
I realize my mistake as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Connor’s eyebrows shoot up, his lips quirking into a smirk as a low, menacing growl rumbles out from behind me, heat emanating from the hard body crowding against my back. Cinnamon and oak fill my nostrils.
“Is that so, lass?” Niall’s voice is silken whiskey pouring over my skin. He has to be herenow? When my hair looks likethis? Why is life so unfair?
“Uh…I was kidding?”
Turning slowly, my eyes widen at the cool scrutiny in his eyes. Oh crap. He has his Reaper face on. Now I’m tired, annoyed,andhorny. Just freaking great.
MaybeIshould have offered to marry Seamus Fitzpatrick. Then I might get to spend every day with Niall. I bet the new wife doesn’t even appreciate the gift she’s been given. Slampig.
“He started it,” I bleat, gesturing to Connor, who is still smirking at me.
My luck turns at this moment, and I’m saved by the bell, or rather, the stripper. Fiona comes running in before anyone can say anything else, ignoring Connor and Niall as she beelines for me.
“Oh my god, girl. Are you okay? I totally saw what happened. You took that hit like a champ!” she gasps, reaching out to try to fix my hair for me.
I have to swallow a giggle at the look on her face; half horrified and half-amused. I don’t know if it’s because of the demon bird attack she witnessed or how horrifying I look right now with a bird’s nest on my head instead of the lovely blowout I left the apartment with.
“Oh my God, right?” I groan at her. “He came out of freaking nowhere and clocked me wicked hard. I think I'm going to have a bruise.”