Page 65 of Fighting for Irish
Murphy sat up and stared at her expectantly, flipping the end of his tail. With shaking hands, she opened the pouch and withdrew a small card that read, Symbols of the Blue Topaz: loyalty, honesty, clarity of feelings, eternal romance, and love.
It couldn’t have touched her more than if it had been from Hallmark. Whatever else was in the pouch, she knew Irish hadn’t chosen it blindly. She turned the pouch in her palm and marveled at the necklace.
An antique brass chain held a matching brass crescent moon charm with a crystal bead that reminded her of a bright star. Behind that, a wire-wrapped crystal drop of blue topaz hung at the end of a few inches of chain. In fact, the chain looked to be just the right length to…
Eager to find out, Kat stood and crossed to the bathroom. After clasping the necklace and centering it on her chest, she gazed at her reflection and got choked up all over again. The moon charm lay between her collarbones and the blue topaz just above her cleavage. Which meant the chain holding the stone hid—or at the very least distracted from—the scar she hated so much.
The necklace was perfect. Irish was perfect. Perfect for her. Of course what they’d shared was love. Why wouldn’t she love him? From the moment he stepped foot in this Podunk town he’d done nothing but look after her, regardless of the original reason. When he learned a big-time mob boss had it out for her, he didn’t call it quits. He insisted on helping her and then somehow managed to do so when he very well could’ve gotten himself killed.
But even more than all that, he’d taken care of her emotionally. It was like he’d plugged into her and sensed when she needed him to slow down or just hold her. When she needed to talk about things, even when she thought she couldn’t. She’d shared pieces of herself with him she’d never given anyone and couldn’t imagine ever giving anyone again. Looking back on the last couple of weeks, Kat realized the only times she felt truly happy and at peace were when she was with Irish. Whether they were making love or watching bad reality TV. All that mattered was that she was with him.
She did love him. And hadn’t he admitted to pretty much the same?
I never planned on falling for you, but I did. Hard.
Yeah, he loved her, even if he hadn’t said the words. But instead of staying and working things out, he planned on leaving. Because why? He didn’t think he was good enough for her. Kat fisted her hands until her nails dug into her palms. Agitation had her stalking back and forth in her tiny apartment while Murphy watched like he was at a tennis match.
“How dare he make the decision to leave based on the assumption he’s not good enough for me,” she spit out. “Don’t I get a fucking say in this?”
Murphy let out a meow, which she took as support to her argument. “Exactly! He’s being bull-headed and such a…a…” She stopped and waved her hands in the air. “Man!”
Exhausted from the emotional roller coaster of the night, she plopped down onto her futon. Murphy ran over and jumped into her lap to rub his head against her face in his favorite form of affection. As she stroked his soft fur, she thought about what she should do. She was tired of men deciding her fate. And even though Irish was the first to do it with good intentions, it didn’t matter. The days of her succumbing to what others wanted from or for her were over.
Kat picked up the kitten under his front legs and held him in front of her face. “Tomorrow night, Murphy, I’m going to fight for what I want. And what I want is Aiden ‘Irish’ O’Brien. Forever.”
