Chapter 4

“I agreed to train him, didn’t I?” Rory responded to his mother, as the two of them and his father talked in the office of Legends.

“Yeah, that’s a start¸” his father said and grunted.

“Seamus, he can do a lot more than just that!” his mother exclaimed to her husband from where she was sitting at the desk, annoyed that he wasn’t backing her up.

“What do you want him to do, Dee? He can’t go back to fighting with his knee messed up,” Seamus insisted as Rory exhaled loudly, not enjoying being talked about as if he wasn’t in the room.

“He has a graduate degree in business! He can do anything with that!” she insisted, her hand resting on the canine head that was propped on her knees as the rest of the dog sat beside her.

“I’m standing right here, Ma.” Rory glared at Ace for betraying him by cuddling up with his mother when she was scolding him. The dog ignored him, enjoying the petting he was receiving.

“Well, then you tell me. What are you going to do, Rory?” Dee turned to him and Seamus put his hands up, trading a look with his son that said he was on his own.

“About what, Ma?”

“About your life. You spend all your time drinking or doing God knows what.” Her voice was forceful and stern.

“I don’t know. I will figure it out. I want to go back into business eventually. It’s not like I’m broke and living on the street. I still have enough money left over from my fighting days to buy this whole damn block if I want to,” he said in exasperation, trying to sidestep around his father to leave the office. He was beginning to feel trapped.

“When is ‘eventually,’ Rory?” Dee followed him.

“Dee, leave the boy alone. He’s training Kane, so he’s doing something.” His father tried to step in for him, but his mother was too anxious to be calmed.

“Exactly—I spent like six hours with him today!” Rory retorted, running his hands over his head, through his thick, wavy hair.

“Okay, but what about a hobby? Maybe working at a charity or something like that. Something to do with your days would be good,” his mother continued.

Rory kept a straight face at her statement, since no one in his family knew he was very involved with volunteering at the shelter he got Ace from. It was conversations just like this that made him like to keep his life private. He had had no desire in the last year to share his life with anyone, even his family.

“Dee, enough,” his father said, with more authority this time.

“Seamus, I’m just wor—” Dee started.

“I said enough, leave him alone. He’s twenty-seven years old; he can figure it out by himself.”

Rory’s mother crossed her arms over her chest, annoyed at both of them.

“Ma, I’ll be okay, I promise. I love you.” Rory stepped over to where she was sitting with Ace and leaned down to wrap her in a hug.

“I just worry about you, Rory.”

“I know, but did you see Quinn’s new haircut? That’s what you should be worried about.”

“What? But he has such beautiful hair! What did he do?” Dee squawked, standing up abruptly. Ace had to step back to avoid being trampled. It was easy to distract the stereotypical Irish mother with any news about her sons.

“Where is he? Is he here?” Dee went storming off into the club to find Quinn.

“It’s not that bad, Cian,” Clare told her boss as she stood behind him in the back office, watching him fix the bandage over his nose in the mirror.

“Oh, sure, and your martinis aren’t that bad, either,” he snapped back, gingerly reapplying some balm to his bruised flesh.

“Hey, I’m still in training!”

“For what? World’s worst bartender?” He turned and glared at her, one brow higher than the other. Clare grabbed her bag off the shelf and swung it over her shoulder.

“Hey, wait.” Cian motioned to her and then her bag. “You got anything in there for pain?”

“Sorry.” She shook her head, almost too vigorously.

“Nothing? Really? I thought women’s purses always had shit in them. I just need some ibuprofen or whatever.”

“I don’t like drugs, any kind. Would rather deal with a headache than take something for it,” she explained as he stared at her like she had a third eye. She just stared back, undaunted. After her history with Travis, there was no way she was letting drugs near her ever again. Plus, she kind of liked that Cian was in pain.

“Fucking women,” he muttered.

“I’m headed home. See you tomorrow,” she called on her way toward the back door of O’Leary’s Pub, secretly glad that the bandage on Cian’s face looked ridiculous.

She had wanted to ask him if he wouldn’t mind driving her home, but right now she would rather walk in the dark with potential muggers than ride with him. Everything that came out of that man’s mouth was offensive. She pulled her purse around her, peering inside to check on the small wad of cash from her tips that night.

It’s not like she could hail a cab; taxis stuck to the touristy areas, not the local residential neighborhoods. She muttered angrily to herself as she slammed her hands into the metal back door, opening it with a bang, and storming out into the alley.

She peered around nervously as the door creaked closed behind her, leaving her to blink rapidly in an attempt to adjust her eyes to the night. She hated the dark, hated not knowing what was around the corner. Moments like this made her think of Travis again, and a shiver of dread found its way down her spine.

It didn’t matter that she was sure he wouldn’t be able to track her all the way to New York; she still felt like she saw him in every shadow she passed. Pulling her purse tighter against her body, she hurried around the building until the alley dumped her out onto the sidewalk.

“Someone told me earlier that walking home this late at night isn’t the best idea for a woman.” A deep voice behind her split through the silence, causing her to jump.

Clare whirled around, her hand clutching at her chest.

“Holy hell!” she squeaked in surprise as her heart slowly dislodged from her throat to find its way back to her chest. Her skin broke out into goosebumps and her breath was nowhere to be found under Rory’s impenetrable, silver-gray stare. He had a hint of a smile on the edge of his lips above a strong, stubbled jaw, which gave him a powerful appearance, hard and unrelenting.

“ ‘Holy hell’? Kind of a contradictory phrase.” He raised one eyebrow as he stepped toward her on the sidewalk, holding a leash with Ace wagging his tail on the other end.

“What are you doing here?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, clutching her purse a little tighter. She liked this man, but everyone seemed a bit threatening when they snuck up on you at one in the morning.

“Just walking Ace.” He held up the leash, but the smirk on his face gave him away, telling her that he had been waiting for her.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she retorted sarcastically.

“You don’t own Woodlawn, Clare. If anyone owns these streets, it’s my family.”

“So I hear: the infamous Kavanaghs,” Clare added an exaggerated lilt to her voice as she mentioned his family, before continuing her walk, strutting away from him.

Rory and Ace kept pace beside her, walking to her left to stay between her and the street. She sensed Rory’s protectiveness and wondered why he even cared enough to do something so small as to position himself between her and any oncoming cars. Her mind flashed back to a memory of when her ex-boyfriend had stepped behind her, using her as a shield.

She pushed the thought away quickly, unsure of why she would ever be comparing Rory to an ex in the first place. She had no plans to date him, or anyone, for that matter. However, the thought of hiking home alone in the Bronx at night was very unappealing, so she reluctantly accepted the company.

“You’re kind of obnoxious, you know that?” she teased him.

“You like it.”

“How would you know?” she challenged.

“Because you like me,” he said, sounding a little less confident than he had in his previous statement.

“You wish!” Clare snickered playfully.

In one quick motion, he grabbed her upper arm, holding her in place as he pressed her against the building they were passing. She found herself staring into his once bright silver eyes, now stormy and dark gray. His heart beat rapidly against her one free hand, which rested on his chest.

His sudden movement and fierce stare frightened her, yet did something else to her at the same time.

She felt a fire pulse through her core, a torrent of waves and confusion. His gaze was so intense. Instinctively, nervously, she bit her bottom lip. He staggered an exhale at the sight, a sensation she felt thundering against her body as it passed through him. He released her and took a step back, leaving her feeling both relieved and suddenly empty.

She was entirely unsure of what she wanted.

Or of what had just happened.

“Be careful, Clare. I’m not sure how safe you are in the dark when you push me like that.”

“I’m not scared of you.” She stepped away from him, farther up the sidewalk. Her mind was reeling—What the hell is happening? Her body was on fire and she wanted to still be pressed against him, which confused her even more. She barely knew this man, and she had reminded herself (again) that she had no desire to be in a relationship with anyone.

“Who said I want you to be scared of me?” His intensity from a moment ago lightened as he followed her, staying half a step behind her even though Ace was pulling on his leash to catch up to her.

“Isn’t that what all world-class, famous MMA fighters want? To intimidate people and show everyone that they’re big and bad?” Maybe that’s all it is, she thought. Maybe his effect on her, his intensity, all of it was just a side effect of being a fighter. It was just who he was; he didn’t really want her, and she definitely didn’t want him.

Keep telling yourself that.

“Someone’s been doing research on me.” She could hear the smugness in his voice as he spoke and it irked the hell out of her, but then she realized she had pretty much just admitted to Googling him. Thankfully, he didn’t know that her newfound friendship with Casey was actually her initial source of information, having only prompted her to do a little more digging on her own.

The man was a mystery, compelling and seemingly callous by turn, a mystery she was first introduced to when he had knocked her arrogant boss on his ass. But then he had that way of looking at her, invading her personal space without even taking a step toward her. Just his perfectly musky scent and hard body, as he stared back at her through silver eyes, was enough to overwhelm her senses, and it was all she could do to play it cool.

She attempted to sound indifferent. “Hard to move into this neighborhood and not find out who the Kavanaghs are, as you said earlier.”

“Care to share what your research told you?” he asked as the two crossed a side street, continuing toward her home.

“Why?” She found herself wondering again why he was even escorting her home in the first place. She knew it was implausible that he had just happened to be walking his dog past her place of work just as she was getting off.

“Humor me, Clare.” His tone had the ability to voice the lightness of humor at the same time as the intensity of a command, inciting a shiver to run down her back.

She didn’t hate it.

“Let’s see: Kavanagh Senior owns Legends, the famous mixed martial arts club where all his giant, extra-Y-chromosome sons have trained and where the famous Rory Kavanagh, once ranked top-ten fighter in the country, learned everything he knows.” She began putting up fingers on one hand as if she was starting a list, and doing her best to ignore his smug grin.

“I know your dad used to be a boxer and everyone is intimidated by him, maybe because he was Irish Mafia. And I know you like to drink, probably a little too much, since you reek of alcohol right now—which is coming from a bartender, by the way. Which means you were probably waiting for me and not just walking Ace in the middle of the night. So yeah, that’s what I know.” She realized that her rambling made her nerves more evident, and she hoped he hadn’t noticed.

“Irish Mafia and extra Y chromosomes? Wow, we must keep the Internet buzzing.” The amusement on his face was unmistakable.

“That’s what it says online.”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to believe everything you read on the Internet, Clare?” He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him as they strolled.

She enjoyed this new level of lightheartedness between them, especially the warmth of feeling him against her again. He was grinning as she glanced sideways at him, but it wasn’t smug like it had been a few moments ago. It was easygoing and amused, a good look on him.

“But you are right,” he said a few moments later, his voice softer this time.

“About which thing? I’m right so often, you really need to narrow it down.” She smiled playfully, detaching herself and reaching down to pet Ace, who had glued himself to her side for most of the journey.

“That’s what I love about you, Clare.” He smiled. “You’re feisty. You have yet to let me have the last word.”

Clare said nothing in response, but inside her head was racing. He had just said love. She knew he wasn’t saying he was in love with her, but just hearing the word fall out of his mouth so easily sent shock waves through her.

She had stopped breathing, holding her breath as if waiting for him to say more. Silently chiding herself, she slowly exhaled. The unexpected excitement she felt was really not helping her resolve not to get involved romantically with anyone.

She had never had such a physical reaction to anyone before, especially a man, and never to anyone using that word. In fact, since her parents passed away when she was in high school, she hadn’t heard anyone say they loved her. She had dated Travis for years, but he had never said it once.

“I was trying to tell you, Clare, that you’re right about me wanting to walk you home. I wanted to see you again, and not with all my family around.”

She heard the smile in his voice as his tone turned slightly more alluring.

“I, uh, well…that’s, um…” Clare started her sentence a few times before giving up and going silent. All she could think was that he wanted to see her again.

And how she knew that she felt the same way.

“You really have a way with words.” He pulled her into a quick squeeze before releasing her.

She was instantly embarrassed that not only was she sure she sounded like an idiot, but also that she was wishing he would keep holding her.

“I can take care of myself, you know. I’m not looking to meet anyone right now.” She wanted to snatch the words back into her mouth the moment they left. While it was true, she didn’t actually want him to stop trying. She hoped he couldn’t tell what a mess of contradictions she was inside.

“I’m sure you can, since you’re taking Casey’s class. Who do you think taught her everything she knows?” He was ignoring the last part of her statement, thankfully. She peeked over at him to see if he was being serious, and quickly determined that he was.

“I guess that makes sense, since you’re like her older brother. What’s up with that, anyway? Cousins and siblings? Don’t tell me the Kavanaghs like to inbreed.” Clare teased him, but she really was curious as to why Casey so often called him both her brother and her cousin.

“No, Clare, we are all quite capable of mating outside of the family.”

Her mouth dried up as he said that. Damn it, Clare, pull yourself together. Repeat, I do not want to date Rory Kavanagh. I do not want to kiss Rory Kavanagh. I do not want to jump Rory Kavanagh.

Dammit, I at least want to jump Rory Kavanagh.

“I can see that, but there has to be some sort of story there.” Clare looked at Rory, hoping he would explain and say something that didn’t make her insides battle. Mostly, she hoped he couldn’t see her weakened resolve, as she was sure she was looking at him like he was dinner.

“Casey is my cousin, but she moved in with my family when she was very young. My aunt and uncle, along with her two older brothers, were killed in a house fire back in the early nineties. She was the only survivor, so my parents adopted her.”

“I had no idea—I’m so sorry.” Clare frowned, hurting for the spunky redhead she realized had a lot hidden below her bubbly surface.

She felt herself warming up to the mysterious family, proud of them for stepping up to take care of a young girl when she was left alone. She only wished someone had been there to do that for her. Maybe she wouldn’t have fallen into Travis’s unrelenting grip if she’d had some family member to rely on.

“It was a long time ago; we don’t talk about it much,” he confided, and she just nodded, getting the hint that she should drop the topic.

“This is my building,” Clare said after a moment, having come to a stop in front of a three-story brick apartment building. She felt strangely guilty that they had already arrived at her destination, as if she had just interrupted a moment between them.

His eyes softened and settled on her. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do now; it felt as if she was coming home from a date, even though she was sure that she was probably the only one thinking that.

And she didn’t even want to be thinking that.

“Keys,” he said, his tone firm but not commanding.

She tilted her head to the side in confusion. Rory reached out and motioned for her keys. Surprising herself, she slowly pulled them out of a pocket and dropped them into his waiting palm. He moved around where she stood fixated on him and opened the front door, motioning her inside.

“What are you doing?” She stood still on the sidewalk, refusing to budge as she put her hands on her hips.

She had just met this man a few days ago; the fact that he would dare invite himself into her home so easily was offensive. A knot grew in her stomach as her ex-boyfriend’s face came to mind. She was baffled as to what had possessed her to hand him her keys in the first place. She had never let her guard down so much around anyone before, not after all she had been through to teach her otherwise.

So why was she letting it down for Rory?

“Relax, Clare,” he said before her doubts got the better of her. “I’m just holding the door open for a beautiful woman. Always the gentleman, remember?”

Her stance relaxed and a flush crept up her cheeks. She felt a comfort that she wasn’t used to. Rory made her feel safe, something she barely remembered. There wasn’t a specific reason that could explain why, but rather something about him just felt different. She felt different.

“Oh. Okay, then. Well, good night.” As she awkwardly passed him, entering the apartment building, he handed her back her set of keys.

“Hey, Clare?” he called after her retreating figure.

She paused, turning to him, one eyebrow raised as she waited for him to say something. He let a moment of silence pass as he licked his bottom lip, watching her intensely. She felt a flutter in her stomach at the motion.

“I like that you’re not scared of me, mhuirnín.” Then he smiled and closed the door between them.

She blinked at the spot where he had just been, her mouth slightly open, as she tried to figure out what she was feeling. The tough-guy persona she normally saw had just cracked open before her and allowed her the quickest peek at the man inside. She felt like that stray dog on the side of the street, eager for any crumb that he would give her.

I do not want to date Rory Kavanagh.

She bit her lip as she turned and continued up the stairs, trying to remind herself that she had not moved to New York to jump into a relationship with anyone. After her ex-boyfriend, she didn’t think she ever could again. Definitely not anytime soon. At least that’s what she had thought until tonight, when the boundaries she had walled up around her began to blur.

I do not want to date Rory Kavanagh.