Page 357 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Just because she’s tough enough to handle it doesn’t mean she should have to!” I took a breath, forcing myself to calm down. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of our last argument. “Look, I…you know my da died when I was a teen.”

She nodded, her eyes warm with understanding.

I rolled my shoulders restlessly, not wanting her sympathy, but knowing I needed to say this. I needed her to trust me enough to come back. “My mum was…she loved him so much, she couldn’t…so I ended up doing a lot of things that needed to be done. And all the adults around, they just said, ‘Be strong for your mum,’ and ‘You’re the man of the family, now.’” I stuffed my hands in my pockets and looked away. “I overheard my aunt once, asking if they were all putting too much on my shoulders. And my uncle just said, ‘he’s tough enough to handle it.’”

I hated to say it out loud, but Olivia needed to hear it. Maybe then she’d understand why I was so hellbent on protecting Catie. Maybe this way she’d understand me.

She took an instinctive step toward me, her hand reaching out, then falling to her side. “Oh Declan.”

I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I was practically an adult. And once we got through the first year, it got easier. I’m fine.” I flashed her a crooked smile, but she wasn’t fooled, and I felt my smile fade away. “The point is, I know what it’s like to have something horrible happen to your parent, and wish that you had the option to hide, to distract yourself and just be a kid a little longer. And Catie…she’s so young.”

Olivia reached out and touched my arm. “I know.”

“I may have over-corrected,” I admitted. Not easy or fun to do…but it had to be done. I was slow to admit my mistakes, sure, but I wasn’t a lost cause. Not entirely, anyway. “Just a bit.”

“A bit.” Olivia’s smile was wry but gentle.

I cleared my throat. “Anyway. I’ll try to get my demons under control. And I will listen to you when you bring up a concern. I can’t promise I’ll always agree, but I’ll hear you out. So if you’re ready to come home—” I broke off as Olivia rose up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around me. I inhaled, startled, my hands settling tentatively on her lower back. She felt warm and feminine in my arms, and I tried not to notice her lavender scent, or soft curves, or… Fuck, it was no use. It was impossible not to notice Olivia. It always had been.

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone,” Olivia said firmly. “There should have been someone there to shield you, like you’re shielding Catie.”

My throat tightened. For a fraction of a moment, I felt like a young boy again. So damn powerless, so damn—no, I couldn’t go there. I wasn’t that boy anymore. He lived in the past, as did all those feelings of powerlessness. I was a grown man now…and, more than that, I was a powerful grown man.

“It’s really not a big deal,” I said, my voice gruff. “I didn’t say any of that to get your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” Olivia said. “It’s understanding.” She fell silent, then said, “My parents died when I was in high school too. Boating accident. They went out on the ocean with a friend and got caught in storm. The Coast Guard never found them.”

“Oh, a ghrá.” My arms tightened involuntarily around Olivia. I’d been so busy thinking about my own demons that I hadn’t even considered Olivia could have some of her own. “I’m sorry.”

She kept her head tucked into my chest. “What’s that one mean?”

“Hmm?”

“A ghrá. You haven’t used that one before.”

I froze. I’d used the term for “love” without thinking. It was a slip of the tongue, but Olivia might read too much into it if I gave her the literal translation.

Down the road, a bus lumbered toward us.

I released her. “It means friend,” I lied.

She tilted her head up, and Christ, she was pretty.

“You said a chara was friend,” Olivia pointed out.

“I did. So will you come back?”

Olivia smiled. This time her smile felt relaxed, settled. “Yes. As long as you keep your promise to communicate.”

I grabbed her suitcase and tossed it in my car. “I don’t think you’ll let me do anything else.”

The bus came to a halt in front of the stop, but I waved it on.

Olivia was coming home with me.

10

OLIVIA