Molly

We lay in bed, utterly and thoroughly exhausted, but also buzzing with a new energy that runs between us. I had no idea sex could be this way, empowering and soul-bearing all at once. We’ve spent the last few hours just talking, more in-depth than we ever have.

“So, what do you want to do in life?” Quinn asks.

“Well, that’s a loaded question.” I laugh, my head is resting on his chest as he plays with my hair.

“You said you didn’t want to be the boss. Did you have something else in mind?”

I pause for a moment to think.

“What? You can tell me, Molly,” he pushes me.

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot over the years, and maybe now’s the perfect time to execute it.”

“And what’s that?”

“A fight club or gym of some sort. A place for troubled youths to find a home, get out their aggression, to escape. I don’t bloody know. Just something to help with whatever shit they have going on.” It’s the first time I’ve told anyone my idea. My granddad and Shane don’t even know.

“I think that’d be perfect for you.” He squeezes me tightly and sounds generally interested. I spend the next forty-five minutes outlining the different programs, and equipment I want.

“I have a few locations we could check out that would be perfect for a gym.” He rolls us, so he lays on top of me.

“Could we see them this week?” I ask, running my hands up his muscular back.

“Whatever you want my dear wife.” I giggle before his lips crash down on mine, and we spend the rest of the night kissing, talking, and laughing until we both fall asleep peacefully in each other’s arms.

One month later

“Come on Donny, hit me harder than that,” I yell at the fourteen-year-old I’m sparing with.

He punches my hand pads harder this time, really working up a sweat.

“Okay, good job. That’s enough for today.” I pat his back and help him out of the ring.

“Thanks, Molly,” he throws over his shoulder as he heads toward the group of young boys lifting weights.

“You’re hardcore.” I turn to see Jack and Ryan walking my way and smile at them. They’ve been coming by a lot to spar with a few of the kids. They’re decent fighters, and it helps with some of the little shits too scared to fight a woman, let alone Quinn O’Sullivan’s wife.

“Well, they’re all a bunch of lasses, they need to be men and learn to take a hit before they can give one,” I tell them as I take a sip of water.

“Here are your winnings from last night.” Ryan hands over a wad of cash with a face that makes him look like a sour child.

“Don’t want to lose, then stop playing shitty poker boyo,” I smirk and take the money.

Jack lets out a snort of laughter as I walk into my office and put the money in my safe. I use it to buy food and equipment for the gym.

Fighting Irish is the name I chose. Quinn thought it was fitting, so did everyone else. I still can’t believe how fast this place all came together. The day after telling Quinn we looked for locations, and found the perfect one not too far from the strip. A substantial industrial warehouse, a wee bit off the beaten path, but still close enough to civilization. I have weights, a boxing ring, changing rooms, showers, beds, and a large kitchen with a full eating area. It was finished in less than a week thanks to all the money Quinn forked over.

As soon as it opened street kids, abused kids, neglected kids, and more started pouring in. Very quickly this place has become a haven. It’s exactly what I wanted, and it seems like a lot of Quinn’s men like the idea too. A bunch of them have come by to train and even help with the kids.

I hear a knock on my office door, and smile when I see Shane standing there.

“Irish, how’s it going today?” He walks in and takes a seat on the other side of the desk.

“Good, just kicking some boyo’s arses.” That gets a chuckle out of him.

“I’m sure they’re better for it,” he smirks.

“That’s the hope.” I sit down and give him my full attention. Over the last few weeks he’s seemed to like it here, but I still feel like there’s been something on his mind. I’ve chalked it up to him adjusting to the move, but maybe it’s more. “What’s up?”

He seems to hesitate, thinking about his answer before talking. “I want to help Quinn more. I don’t believe he sees just how useful I can be.” I’m surprised to hear this. Quinn has put him in charge of all his loan sharks. That’s a lot of work. Quinn had four guys that oversaw it all before and asking for more seems like he’ll be spread too thin, but I don’t say that.

“What did you have in mind?” I ask, not wanting to tell him what I’m thinking.

“I can be his middleman for the more delicate jobs,” he says

“You mean the Chen gang?” I supply, reading between the lines.

“Yes, I hear they’re finicky about who they do business with, so I thought I could be used and save Quinn some time. I know they have a unique arrangement,” he goes on.

“I’d say. Quinn gives Chen drugs in return for forged passports,” I tell him. “It’s a huge moneymaker when you think about it.”

“He’s a smart businessman. Where do they usually meet?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure, it’s different each time. I think he has one this week, possibly tomorrow. He was talking about one of the warehouses he owns.”

“Well, I just wanted to run it by you before I ask Quinn about it.”

If he wants more work that’s fine. He’s doing an excellent job and now that I think about it he would make the perfect middleman. He’s done it before. “If you want more then go for it. I think you’ll be great at it.”

He gets a more serious look, but his eyes soften a bit. “You know I love you, right Irish?”

I still at his words, stunned really. Not because of what he said but how he said it. Like it’s a good-bye of some sort.

“Of course, Shane, always.” I pause, focusing more on him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just wanted you to know,” he says, giving me a weak smile.

“I know, you tell me all the time.” He’s been a wee different since we got here, and I have to ask, “Are you’re sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s just everything I’ve done is for you, what I think is best for you. All I want is to protect you.” I’m starting to get a panicky feeling. He’s not telling me something, but I know from experience I can’t pry it out of him.

“I know this Shane, and I love you too.” I smile at him. My phone rings and I pull it out to see who it is. “It’s Granddad.”

Shane stands. “I’ll see you later. Say hi to the old man for me.” And he leaves. Too quickly.

I brush it off. “Hey, Granddad.” My voice is still uneasy from the conversation with Shane.

“What’s wrong, lass?” His voice pulls me in. I shake my head, trying to clear it from the way Shane was acting.

“Nothing. Busy day at the gym. How are you?”

“Good. Just checking in,” he tells me.

“Rethinking retirement? You sound bored.” I chuckle, he's always been a busy guy, and having nothing to do now must be driving him crazy.

“Nah, Irish. I like the peace. Just missing you.”

“Well, Quinn and I will visit soon.”

“Visit, huh?” There is a knowing tone in his voice. “Not move back?”

“I love him,” I confess, and if I'm honest with myself, I have since the first day we met.

“He loves you too,” my Granddad says.

“Well spit, how would you know that?” I ask, practically begging him to gossip.

He chuckles. “I hear it in his voice when we talk. He’s a goner.” I know Quinn and my Granddad have talked a bit over the weeks, and it makes me happy to think they’re building a relationship besides business.

“He hasn’t told me yet.” You can hear my pout.

“Give it time. He will tell when he's ready. A man like Quinn is a tough nut to crack.” Tell me something I don’t know. “Well, I’ll let you go. Talk soon, lass. I love you.”

“Love you, too granddad.” And I hang up.

I always feel lighter after talking to him, and my concerns with Shane are pushed to the back of my mind.

I look at the clock and notice its almost four. We’re having guests tonight, Lawson and Cleo are in town. I’ve talked to Lawson over the phone before, and he gave me Cleo’s number, we’ve been texting and Skyping like crazy since. I've never had any female friends before, only guys, and all from within the family.

I quickly grab my bag and pack it up, sending off a quick text to Quinn telling him I'm on my way. He replies instantly, saying he is too. I tell the guys and kids still working out and fighting good-bye then head to my car. The shadow Quinn demanded I have follows and in no time I find myself at home, and it has become that for me over the last few weeks.

I smile at the guards as I pass. I know Quinn is already here since his car was in the driveway.

“Molly?” Ah, speak of the devil. I hear his rumble and know he's upstairs. I head to our room, dropping my bag by the door first. He’s sitting on the bed undoing his dress shirt.

“Hey there.” I walk over to him.

“How was the gym, beautiful?” He pulls me between his legs, nuzzling my stomach.

I rake my hands through his full hair. “Good, socked a few boyo’s, which is always grand fun.” I feel him chuckle. “I need to shower before Lawson and Cleo arrive,” I tell him, pulling his head back from my tummy.

“So do I.” He gives me a wicked grin and stands up. He takes my lips with his and starts to pull my clothes off as I do the same to his. We find ourselves in the shower, skin to skin, water cascading over our bodies. His hands roam mine with the soap, touching every inch, then we switch, and I wash him. I hear and feel each groan and growl he lets out when I reach specific areas. I find myself tired of waiting. I can’t handle any more teasing.

“Bloody hell Quinn, take me already,” I hiss at him.

“Fuck yes.” He grabs my legs and hikes them around his hips, pushing me against the shower wall. He enters me in one hard thrust and we moan. This feeling only gets better each time. The feel of his scratchy beard down my chest and over my nipples drives me mad.

“I can’t wait, Quinn.” I scratch at his back. Whenever I have an afternoon of fighting, I get all worked up, and Quinn is the only release I want.

He lets out a deep growl and starts thrusting like a wild animal. Its hard, powerful, and fucking amazing. It doesn't take long before I come, and he goes over the edge at the same time.

He rests his forehead on mine, just as out of breath as I am. “Fuck,” he grunts and I can't help but giggle. Sometimes I think that’s the only word he knows. I feel his smile before he says, “I love your laugh.”

My heart lifts at the first part and falls a little when he adds the last. I don’t know why I’m yearning for him to say the words when I haven't even said them to him yet, but I need them. We finish our shower, and I throw on my robe and start to dry my hair. Quinn is just wearing a towel around his waist.

“What’s wrong?” I hear him ask as I walk into the closet.

“Nothing,” I reply instantly, covering up how I really feel while looking through my clothes, trying to pick out something to wear for dinner.

I pick a pale pink wrap sundress and brown strappy sandals and quickly put them on and walk back into the room. Quinn is sitting on the bed again, fully clothed in a fresh pair of dark jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He stands when he sees me and motions me to come over. I do instantly, standing in front of him, trying to hide how shitty I feel about us.

He looks closely at my face, knowing something is up. He knows every little thing about me. He runs his hands through my hair and pulls me to his chest and takes my lips in a hungry kiss. Like always, I'm powerless to his touch and return it. When he pulls back, I'm still under his spell.

“Molly,” he says, his breath tickling my ear.

“Mmmmm,” I move so I can look him in the eyes. He grabs my hands brings them up to his mouth to kiss each one.

“I love you,” he says, and it takes my breath away. It’s what I’ve wanted to hear for what seems like forever, instead of only a few weeks. I can't help but watch him with wide eyes, speechless. “I felt it the moment I saw you and fuck me if you were already my wife. How I got that stroke of good luck, I have no idea, but I'm not questioning it. I’m keeping you. Forever.” I feel him slip something onto my finger and gasp when I look down. It’s my mother's ring, and my grandmother’s before her. It’s a simple gold band with a beautiful green emerald in the centre. My granddad would tell me the story about how he picked it out for her. How the bloody hell did he even gets this?

“I called Connor and asked him for it,” he supplies, answering my unasked question. “He also gave me his, said they belonged together.” He holds up his left hand, showing the worn gold band. “Like we do.”

I should say something romantic in return, but me being me I punch him in the shoulder. “What the bloody hell took you so long?” I hiss out.

“I’m sorry, Molly. I wanted you to get settled in, and after your first week and opening that gym, I knew you were making roots. Plus, it took time for Connor to mail them.” He grins.

I can't help but smile as I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a quick kiss. “I love you too,” I tell him.

“I know,” he smirks. Again, I punch him, not that it does any good.

“Well spit, don’t be an arse about it.”

He laughs outright. “Careful, your Irish is showing.”

I roll my eyes at him and say, “I have one request.”

“Anything for you Molly, you know that.” He strokes my hair behind my ear.

“I want a small ceremony in Ireland with my granddad there.” It’d mean a lot to him, me also.

“Sounds like a plan.” He smiles and says, “You’re beautiful by the way,” then steps back to take a full look at me.

“Thanks,” I blush, still amazed he can get me to do that. “I’ll get dinner ready.” I kiss him on the cheek and head downstairs.

Lawson throughs his head back and laughs. Hard. Quinn grumbles taking a sip of his beer, and Cleo giggles, resting her hand on her pregnant belly. I just told them about the moment we met, which involved me punching Quinn in the face.

“Would’ve paid big money to see that,” Lawson says, somewhat composed.

“Talk about a match made in heaven,” Cleo chimes in. “So, it sounds like the gym is going well,” she says. We’ve just finished dessert and have been chatting like old friends.

“Nothing better than beating the crap out of shithead boyo’s that need it.” They all chuckle. “In all seriousness, it’s wonderful. And I even think I found a few prospects for you,” I tell Quinn.

“Well, if they survive you then they can handle me,” he says with a wink.

“I think it’s great what you're doing. In Bulgaria, there were so many street kids with nothing to do but get into drugs and other types of trouble. What you’re doing is important work.” Cleo sends me a smile. I appreciate her comment, fully aware she knows firsthand because she grew up on the streets.

“How about I show you the changes to the house you practically helped me choose.” She was my go-to for paint colour and curtains.

“Sounds fun. This baby needs some exercise,” she grins as she starts to stand, and in an instant, Lawson is by her side helping her. “For god sakes Lawson, I'm only six months pregnant, I can still walk,” she playfully snaps.

“You still need to be careful,” he argues.

“If I can survive being kidnaped while pregnant, then I can easily handle a tour around the house,” she shoots back.

“Don’t remind me,” he growls at her.

I take that as our cue to leave and link my arm with hers, guiding her out of the dining room. “Let's go before he chains you to himself,” I say and hear Quinn and Cleo snort.

We spend the next hour looking at the house and talking about babies. We share laughs and worries about the past and future. I realize then that I have a real friend in her, just like I do with everyone here. Before I came to Nevada, I had planned to stay here temporarily and lay low, but now I can't see myself ever leaving. This is my home now.