“Look, love, I’m gonna get hypothermia out here. I sent my driver away.”
With a hesitant breath, she stepped back and unlocked the door, just enough to peek through the narrow gap, the chilly wind rushing in.
There he was, shivering in a pale blue shirt and designer jeans.
Amber eyes gleamed in the moonlight, and that killer dimple creased his cheek as he smiled.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice thick with liquor, pushing his way inside without waiting for an invitation.
As he strolled further into the warmth, the space seemed to come alive with his presence.
Or maybe it was just her heart reacting, racing faster at the sight of him. Everything lit up—from the room to the darkness inside her.
She inhaled deeply, the scent of his cologne filling her lungs. The familiar rush of him made her pulse skip.
“Where’s your coat?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest, trying not to focus on the heat curling in her belly. “This is Northern Ireland, Jamie, not the Maldives…or wherever you go on holiday.”
He shrugged nonchalantly, running a hand through hisdark, tousled hair. “If I’d known I’d be standing out there waiting for you all night, I would've worn a fucking bearskin. You haven’t even offered me tea or a blanket, love.”
“Seriously, Jamie, why are you here?” she asked, thankful her oversized pyjamas covered the bruises that hadn’t quite healed.
He dropped onto the couch like he owned the place. His eyes locked onto hers, filled with something she couldn’t quite place.
“Had a few drinks after a meeting. Stayed at The Fitz, had a few more... Got lonely. Figured I’d check in on you.”
The casualness of his admission stirred something deep inside her. He was so unapologetically himself, even when he was being reckless.
“Got anything to drink?” he asked, looking around, as if it was the most normal request in the world.
“I was in bed…sleeping,” she groaned, palming her face in mock exasperation but trying not to smile at the way he effortlessly slid into her space. “Fine. I’ve got vodka or green tea.”
“Baby, I ain’t drinking that green shit,” he said, his lopsided grin pulling a reluctant smirk from her. “Vodka’s fine, though. Make it a double.”
Her stomach flipped. Despite herself, despite the way he’d barged in and the thousand reasons she should send him away, she found herself moving to pour the vodka.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself as she rejoined him, surprised to see that he’d already kickedoff his shoes and made himself very comfortable on her couch.
“Cheers, love,” he said, holding up the glass with a wink, tipping it toward her before throwing back the entire contents in one go.
“Celebrating something?” Shannon perched on the arm of the couch, heat flooding her face as she tried to act nonchalant, but the flutter in her chest betrayed her.
He gave her a long, intense look.
“Nah, just wanted to see you.” His voice dropped an octave, and for the first time since he arrived, something raw, genuine flickered in his gaze. “Sit with me. Let’s watch something. Got any decent movies?”
“I have to get up early,” she said, trying to make an excuse, but her resolve was weakening by the second.
“Me too,” he said, voice thick from the alcohol, his gaze warm and steady. “But it’s a Friday, love. Live a little.”
Despite herself, Shannon found her resistance crumbling.
“Fine.” She sank onto the couch, doing her best to ignore the way her thigh brushed against his.
The contact sent a wave of heat rushing through her, and she clenched her jaw to fight it. She refused to acknowledge the way his presence seemed to fill every corner of the room, making the air heavy with unspoken words.
“I’ve got Netflix,” she offered, trying to keep things light. “There’s loads to choose from.”
He leaned his head sideways, his gaze narrowing ashe watched her. “How about a bacon butty? I’ll make it this time.”
