Owen

“I need yer help.” Shane moans into the receiver.

“I’m busy,” I growl back, frustrated because I hear the panic in his voice and I know I won’t—can’t—turn him down.

“I’m not fucking around, man,” Shane says, his voice rising in pitch.

“Okay.” I sit on the edge of the bed and rough a palm over my face, then glance over at Bree, who’s watching me with a reservation that wasn’t there a minute ago.

I’m going to strangle him for this.

But family comes first – always. Even over what I know would have been mind-blowing sex.

“Where are ye?”

“My room.” He lets out a long string of curses mixed with slurred ramblings, the overall theme summed up when he finally says, “I’m screwed.”

“I’ll be there in five,” I say, hanging up.

Bree’s face falls slightly, but she does a good job at hiding her disappointment.

“Everything all right?”

I stand, grabbing a shirt and pulling it over my head. “I’ve got to deal with something.”

She starts to shift off the bed. “I’ll leave.”

“No. Stay. I offered ye a bed. Looks like it’s all yers. For now.”

“You’re sure?” She chews on her bottom lip.

I nod, my balls already starting to ache as I grab my cell from the table. “I’ll be back.”

“Owen…”

“Yeah?” I glance over my shoulder at her, my chest squeezing at how fucking hot she looks sitting there. Cheeks flushed, hair mussed. Yeah, Shane better have a good fucking reason for calling me away.

“Nothing.” She gives a weak smile and glances away, like she wants to say something, but can’t find the nerve. “I hope everything’s okay.”

I nod. “Pizza’s in the living room.”

Shane’s suite is right next to mine. He opens the door the second my fist hits it. Red-eyed and face pale, he motions me in.

“This had better be good.”

“It’s not good. It’s the fecking Armageddon.” He yanks at his already disheveled hair and drops to the couch in a dramatic gesture.

“What happened?” I glance around his room, which looks even worse than mine, with empty liquor bottles littering the tables and floors, and a discarded pair of pink lace panties hanging from one of the door knobs.

“I brought that blonde up here after ye left. My God, the woman had my balls tighter than a-”

“The point,” I growl out.

“The fecking condom broke.” He drops his face to his hands and moans again.

I wince. “Shit.”

“Felt the fucking thing snap, but it was too late. Spilled my full load inside of her.”

“Where is she?” I glance towards the bedroom.

“Gone. I freaked. Probably scared the hell out of her. She ran out of here, half dressed. God, what if I got her pregnant?”

“Ye’ll deal with it.”

“I don’t even know the girl’s name. Emma, Emily, Amelia…shit.”

“If she’s staying here in the hotel, the concierge might know what room she’s in. Ye can take her to one of those clinics tomorrow and get her the pill.”

“Because the media won’t be all over that,” he bites out sarcastically, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “And even if I could, I don’t think she was staying here. She mentioned something about a hostel. I didn’t even know they had those anymore. I mean who the hell wants to share a room with a bunch of strangers?”

In true Shane fashion, his brain is already veering off track.

And the men worry about me being trouble.

I shake my head at him. “The likelihood of her even being pregnant is slim. And if she is-”

“She’ll come after me for money.”

I breath a heavy sigh, because I know he’s right. Over the years, there’ve been more than a handful of chicks that begged me not to wear a condom, and I knew their motivation. A kid meant child support payments, or a big payout.

“Don’t freak out until ye know for sure there’s something to freak out about.”

“I know. But I felt it in every bone in my body the second…” He lops back on the couch and groans again. “I’m fucked.”

“At least ye still have beer,” I say, pulling two out of his mini-fridge.

He groans, taking it.

“At least she was a half decent lay.” He clinks his bottle to mine before tipping it back and draining it.

How the man doesn’t have a few dozen brats running around with his face already is beyond me.

I stay with him for another two drinks, until he’s half-passed out and mumbling about some chick he’d been with after a show in Delaware.

By the time I get back to my room, I know my chances with Bree are shot. I don’t even know what time it is, but I’m pretty sure it’s closer to morning than midnight.

I’m not surprised to find the lights out.

But the door to the bedroom is open in invitation.

Her small frame is curled up on one side of the bed.

Even though I know I should leave her be, there’s no way in hell I’m sleeping on the lumpy pull-out couch. My white knight has his limits.

The mattress dips as I lay down beside her, and she stirs.

“Everything all right?” she asks sleepily.

“Yeah.” I lay on my back and place one arm behind my head, staring up at the moonlit ceiling.

“Good,” she mumbles, seemingly undisturbed by me lying next to her.

It feels…right. But then, I wonder how I’d feel if I’d been in Shane’s predicament tonight.

Shit, he knew the woman he’d slept with as well as I know Bree, and yet there’s a chance that the woman will come back, kid in tow.

One night, one mistake, and your whole world can be flipped upside down. And hell, if I don’t feel like my own foundations have been shaken a little tonight.

“When do ye meet yer family?” I ask into the darkness.

She hesitates before answering quietly. “Tomorrow. They’re staying here in the hotel.”

Silence fills the room, and she seems to vanish somewhere inside her head, or maybe she’s fallen back to sleep.

I glance over at her. She’s curled on her side, facing me, eyes closed, her hand resting under her cheek. In the dim light, I see the ink on her inner wrist. The tattoo is small, but I recognize the Celtic symbol immediately. The Dara knot. A fleeting memory flickers at the back of my mind, but it’s too faded to catch hold of, and exhaustion trumps my curiosity.

I’ll ask her about it tomorrow.

Because after tonight, one thing’s for certain, there will be a tomorrow with her.