Page 37 of Rory: His to Discipline

“Ms. O’Malley, I must apologize for my unforgivable behavior this afternoon. I can only promise you it will never happen again.”

Bridget rose slowly until she was looking up into his eyes. Checking out every inch of him on her way up, she couldn’t help noticing the bulge in the front of his pants. No matter how emphatically Winston denied it, he wanted her.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Bridget told him with a laugh. “If you lock that door, I’ll show you exactly how sorry I am about this afternoon,” she continued, laying her small hand on his chest. His rapid heartbeat belied the firm set of his jaw as he stared down at her. His hands had a death grip on her jacket and she wondered what he would do with them if she should rip the jacket away.

“Absolutely not! We must not compound our transgressions, Bridget, I mean Ms. O’Malley. It’s imperative that we behave in a purely professional manner for the rest of the week.”

Sighing, Bridget turned and let him help her into her coat. After picking up her backpack, she started towards the door only to turn around half way there. Del bumped into her and grasped her arms quickly to keep her from falling.

“Really, Winston,” she stated, a twinge of annoyance coming through. “I thought you would be a little more fun this week. Have you always been so pompous?”

“Ms. O’Malley, I do not consider myself pompous in the least. Most of the human race adheres to socially acceptable behavior in the workplace. I hope for the duration of our time together you will try a little harder to be … good?”

“I’ll have you know that I have been told I am very, very good. In fact, I can provide references just like that,” she informed him, snapping her fingers, her little nose in the air.

“I’m not surprised, Ms. O’Malley,” he said stiffly, turning her around and giving her bottom a push toward the door. “Feel free to call in sick tomorrow,” he mumbled as he bent to lock the door.

“Not on your life, Winston,” Bridget shot back. He was afraid of her she realized with a start. This was getting better all the time. Why he was probably shaking in his wingtips. Feeling much better, Bridget slipped her arm through his as they started down the walk.

“How about giving me a ride home, Winston?” she asked in her very best damsel in distress voice. “It’s easier than giving you directions for Thanksgiving and I won’t have to wait at the cold, dark bus stop. A girl could get hurt all alone on a night like this. There are criminals everywhere, which you should know being almost a lawyer and all.”

“My money is on you,” Del snorted, rolling his eyes. “Come on then, hurry along, I have plans for tonight.”

Bridget skipped along beside him, her hand in his warm pocket. “Is that why you got the ticket this morning? Were you speeding? You know, as a representative of the law you should be more careful.”

“No, I was not speeding,” Del replied, wishing fervently that she would drop the subject.

He should have known better.

“So, what were you doing? Did you have an accident or something?” Bridget continued, looking him over for injuries.

“No, Ms. O’Malley, I did not have an accident,” Del replied acidly hitting the unlock button as they were just about at the car. “If you must know, I got a ticket for driving too slowly in the express lane.”

“Oh, Winston,” Bridget howled with laughter. “That’s priceless. I have never heard of anyone getting a ticket for driving too slow. I’ll have to ask Rory about it.” Holding her sides, she leaned against the car while he waited, holding her door open.

“I would appreciate it if this went no further than us,” Winston growled. “Now if you don’t mind …” he continued, his teeth clenched as he waved his arm indicating she should be seated.

Bridget stood and wiped the tears from her face, a hiccup escaping. Quickly she shot up and kissed his cheek. “I’m crazy about you, Winston,” she giggled.

“Get in the damn car, Bridget.”

Chapter Fourteen

Tess sat at the table in Maeve’s big kitchen. Greeted like a lamb lost from the fold, Maeve embraced her the minute they walked in the door, shooing Rory off to find his Da.

“Is everything all right, darlin’?” Maeve asked as she put a cup of tea in front of Tess, moving the sugar and cream closer. “You look a little flushed, dear.”

“I am fine, Maeve. I am so glad you are not angry with me for running away like I did. It was rude and I am sorry I did not talk to you about it first.”

“Now, now darlin’,” Maeve assured her, patting her hand. “Don’t you fret about it another minute. I know my son can be a little overbearin’ at times. He gets that from his Da, I think. ‘Tis glad I am to have you back where you belong. Is everythin’ all right between the two of you now? Are you set on livin’ with him, without the bonds of matrimony? Not that I’ll hold that against you, dear. The worlds is different now days and ‘tis done quite frequently. I guess in the long run ‘tis better than findin’ out you’re not suited after the weddin’.”

“Your son is a human bull-dozer, Maeve. This morning he informed me that I have taken the rest of the week off. He drags me to the bank and puts my name on all of his accounts and then tells me I am no longer working for Maggie and Nick. He wants me to have more time for him. I love him, Maeve,” Tess admitted blushing, “but last night he told me that these decisions will be made by both of us and then today he rearranges my whole life.”

Standing, Tess starred out the window, her arms wrapped around her waist. “There is a brand-new car out there in the driveway that he leased for me! I do not know what to do. I barely got a look at the house, yet he tells me that I am to redecorate his entire home. I have half a mind to move a feed-trough into the living room along with a couple of jack asses. I wonder what he will think of my decorating then?” she stated, stamping her foot. Tess’s defiance didn’t last long and she slumped back into her chair, her head in her hands.

“Oh, darlin’,” Maeve replied soothingly as she came around the table. Rubbing Tess’s shoulders, she offered some advice. “Have you tried to explain to Rory how you feel? I know he can be a bit intimidatin’ but he loves you. Surely, he will listen.”

“I have tried,” Tess cried. “Every time I try to tell him, he begins to kiss me and I … forget what I wanted to say. Oh, Madre, I know nothing of decorating a home, nothing about pleasing a man like Rory. He will tire of me, I know it, and then I will just die without him,” she sobbed.