C HAPTER O NE
“Okay, I know you’re pissed, but—”
“Sirai…”
“Just let me tell my side of things, please?”
“Sirai…”
“For once it really wasn’t my fault!”
Ardan O’Reilly swung around to face her. “You assaulted an officer! How is that not your fault?”
She bit her bottom lip. Holding a pair of killer spiked stilettos in one hand, she shifted on her stocking feet from one to the other as they stood outside on the pavement in front of the police station where Ardan had to bail her out… again.
Five years. For five long years Ardan had been cleaning up behind Sirai Holland. Truth be told, the things she managed to get herself into weren’t completely her fault considering the fact the woman was Murphy’s Law incarnate, but dammit he was really getting tired of this. If it weren’t for his daddy, he wouldn’t even know her…or her penchant for pulling other people into her messes.
Sadly, Carrick O’Reilly had a soft spot for her since the day Sirai dragged herself through the doors of The Shamrock—Carrick’s bar. And from then on she’d pretty much become Ardan’s responsibility. Sirai had no family as far as he knew, and very few friends. It wasn’t that Ardan didn’t like her…it was that he liked her a little too much—could maybe call it love, some day after he got out of denial and stopped being a prick to her at every turn. It wasn’t exactly her fault she made him feel the way she did.
It was what it was. Sirai had an innate ability to send his blood boiling and make him smile all within the span of a few minutes. It was the most confusing thing Ardan had ever experienced but he liked it. No wait—he loved it. Too bad right now all he could think about was spanking her for getting into trouble… again.
“Are you gonna keep yelling or are you gonna listen to what happened?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “No, I don’t wanna know. I don’t care. Just c’mon and get in the damn truck.” Ardan kept walking before he realized he was alone. Turning around he watched, Sirai head the opposite direction. “Where in the hell are you going?!”
“To a place that doesn’t have a flaming redheaded asshole!” she yelled back.
“Dammit! Sirai Lilah Holland, you get your ass back here, right now!”
She stopped in her tracks, spinning to face him, “No. You. Did. Not. Just. Call. My. Government. All. Public. Like.”
“Just so you’re aware, breaking down one sentence into like eleven smaller ones in a soft voice while staring at me hard…really doesn’t scare me. And I’d also like to add that the whole state of Florida knows your got-damn government name because your ass can’t stay outta trouble for five minutes so don’t stand there glaring at me like I’m in the wrong here.”
That’s when she proceeded to flip him the bird. “Kiss my ass, Ardan. You’re not my daddy and I don’t need you lecturing me.”
His booted feet had him in front of her in seconds. Gripping the front of her quarter-length jean jacket, he loomed over her until she leaned backwards so far she was forming an upside down U. “Trust me sweetheart, if I was your daddy, you wouldn’t be able to walk straight most days because your ass would be constantly sore from the tannings administered to it.”
“What’re you gonna do, Irishman? Spank me out here in front of God and country? Let’s not forget the nice men and women who serve and protect right inside the building,” Sirai taunted, her copper colored eyes narrowed on him.
Ardan inhaled deeply and let go. “Get in the damn truck, Sirai. Don’t make me say it again.”
She stood there for a while, defiant as ever, glowering up at him. “No.” Then she turned away from him.
That was when Ardan snapped. He didn’t think about it, just grabbed Sirai and tossed her over his shoulder, ignoring every hit and kick he received. He had one goal in mind here, and it involved getting her in the truck, home,
Jan (ILT) J. C.; Gerardi Greenburg