Knockout: The Doyles, A Boston Irish Mafia Romance by Sophie Austin

Author:Sophie Austin [Austin, Sophie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-03T16:00:00+00:00

7

Owen

It’s about 3:00 a.m. My hand lingers above Molly’s curls, which are spread out on the pillow. She looks like the Madonna, angelic. Not being able to touch her might be my hardest fight yet, but I’d catch the devil if I woke her. It’s tempting, but I haven’t been hit in the head enough yet to be that stupid, so I ease out of bed and walk into the living room.

Scanning the books on her shelves, I see she has books on everything. Medical stuff. The history of scurvy. Astronomy. Fiction. Biographies. Myths of Ireland. I always knew that she was smart, but apparently she’s insatiable. Curiosity is an appealing trait in a woman, that kind of desire to drink in the world.

Molly has it in spades.

The door to the bedroom clicks opens behind me, and Molly’s footsteps move fast in my direction. “Owen, are you feeling all right?”

She’s in my face, probing, and before I can stop her, blazing a flashlight into my eyes.

Shielding my eyes, I’m quick to reply. “Jesus, yeah, I’m fine, buttercup. I just couldn’t sleep. Sorry I woke you.”

Fighting to keep my eyes off the curves that the faint glow from the window throw into stark relief, I run my finger up the spine of one of her books.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Ireland.”

Despite my best efforts, I can’t keep my eyes off her, her red hair wild and mussed, like the banshees in her Irish folktale books. Her eyes look dreamy with sleep, another button on her top undone. She’s a wild sleeper, mumbling and kicking, just as feisty in her dreams as she is during the day. And the arousal I tamped down to normal levels is ready to send a rocket to space.

Fantastic. Now a restless sleeper is a turn-on. What’s next?

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” she says, rushing on to add, “I worried the concussion…”

“I’m fine.” Suddenly, more than anything, I just want to reassure her. Calm whatever anxiety she’s feeling.

She looks at me hard, so I turn back around to stare out the bay window. There’s a surprising expanse of stars visible and the sky is clear for a city night. “Do you ever just sit here and look at the stars?”

I expect her to say no, to act like it’s weird. But she just moves in next to me, and says, “Help me drag the couch forward like three inches. Now turn it this way.”

When it’s repositioned, she curls up into a little ball and pats the worn cushion next to her. I sit, and then she motions to the skyscape which is suddenly three times brighter.

“There’s Ursa Major, and Minor’s over there.” Her voice is lazy, like she does this all the time.

But I’m captivated. Nights are always so busy. Fighting, training, marketing. My head’s so focused on the next thing and the thing after that that I’ve missed a lot. Not just with Molly. With life.

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