Butcher & Blackbird (The Ruinous Love Trilogy, #1)

by Brynne Weaver

“What does my nervous little Blackbird like to read, I wonder?”

He lures me in, a pinprick of steady light in the static darkness.

“We were teenagers when we left Sligo and came to America. I remember Lachlan buying the tickets. Three in coach. It was the start of another life for us.”

“That woman you were watching…?” My fingers tighten around his throat as he desperately nods. “She is mine.”

“Cat got your tongue, pretty boy? Didn’t think I’d see the day.”

Secrets I never share beg to be released whenever she’s around, and it’s no different with this one.

But for the next three days, every time I think she might disappear, she proves me wrong.

I’m 100% positive that I hate you. And I’m 100% positive you’ll love me one day!

And every day, I look forward to it. Every day, it warms me up, lighting places that have always been dark.

And every night when I close my eyes, I still picture him in that sliver of moonlight on the driveway in West Virginia, bent on one knee, like he was about to swear an oath. A knight cloaked in silver and shadow.

“He seemed so vulnerable, despite what he’d just done. I couldn’t leave him like that.”

Call me a dirty little slut and I’m all for it.

I do. I miss his faint accent and his big smile and his ever-present jokes. I miss his teasing and his warmth and how easy it is to just be myself around him, how nice it is to lay the mask aside. I miss the way he makes me feel like I’m not an aberration, but unique.

I make it halfway to the door with hurried steps before a single word stops me dead. “Blackbird.”

“What are you doing?” “What I should have done the other day. I’m cooking with you,” I say. “We’re going to make it together. Put the phone on speaker and start grating the parmesan.”

“I wish you would have stayed, Blackbird. I would have taken you back into the kitchen. We could have made something together.”

“Well, it’s hard to compete with the stunning wait staff and Rowan’s adoring socialite regulars,” I say with a sickly sweet smile. “No one competes with Sloane.” Rowan’s eyes anchor on mine, dragging me into the depths of a navy sea. “She just hasn’t realized it yet.”

“I said, ‘Sloane is the most beautiful girl in the world’.

It was only a few hours ago that it felt like the universe had collapsed in on us. All its power was honed in a single blade. And now we’re a fleeting breath of time beneath starlight.

And I know how I feel about Rowan. The more we talk, the more we laugh and play, the more I can’t picture my life without him.

“I’m not taking the most beautiful girl of the night to the social event of the year in a fucking Honda Accord.”

“And I guarantee that you could wear a potato sack and still be the most beautiful woman here. The dress is stunning, Blackbird. Perfectly you.”

Even though he’s capable of killing any one of them without remorse, he still puts people at ease, his mask infallible.

And the whole time, his gentle touch is an anchor.

When his name is called, he goes on stage and collects his glass teardrop trophy for Best Restaurant during the awards ceremony and even then he finds me with a wink and a lopsided grin.

But my eyes stray to the tall, beautiful man who sucks all the air from the room like an inferno.

His grip on my chin firms and he steps closer, looming over me, his eyes bouncing between mine. “Sloane,” he whispers. “You’re really here.”

I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean. But I don’t ask. Not as his gaze lingers on my lips when they part on a shaky exhalation. Not when his other hand slowly reaches up to sweep the waves from my shoulder, his fingertips an electric murmuration in my skin as they trace the slope of my neck.

I will blow this restaurant up myself before I miss it. I’ll see you in August.

No one has ever looked at me like this, with so much caged worry and fear. And for the first time, it’s not fear of me. It’s fear for me.

Hold tight, love. I’m coming.

“I’m going to keep you safe. Understand?” “Yes, Rowan.”

There’s a breath of time between us when we just look at one another, both dripping wet and covered in mud and grass.

And then his hands are on my cheeks to hold me steady, his breath hot on my skin as his eyes travel across the details of my face.

“Sloane,” he whispers. It’s not for me to acknowledge. It’s confirmation that I’m here, and real, but broken.

When he’s done, his hands lay on my hips, a long, tense breath covering my belly with heat that I feel down to my very core.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. He presses his forehead to my stomach, his arms wrapping around my legs to hold me close.

I’m immobilized by the sudden current that fires through my trembling flesh. Every exhalation against my skin makes my heart beat faster...

I can’t bring myself to take my touch away. My fingers slide from his damp hair until my palm rests on his cheek and the stubble that rasps against my skin. Rowan leans into my touch. He brings his hand to rest over mine as though I might fade away if he lets go.

“Sloane,” he says, his eyes soldered to my lips. My name is a whisper of salvation and suffering as he says it again.

“I can’t los...

“Then you’d better kiss me,” I w...

We’re just a breath of space away from one another, and I know everything will change ...

Everything transforms wit...

Rowan’s lips are soft but the kiss is firm, as though there’s no room in his mind ...

I open my mouth when his tongue traces the seam of my lips, and with the first caress of Rowan’s tongue over mine, every thread of restraint between us unravels.

I lose myself in desire. It crashes into me, as though it was always hiding behind a crumbling wall. And once it’s unleashed, it consumes me.

I forget all about who we are. Where we are. Why we’re here.

“Getting revenge for hurting my girl, of course.”

“You literally scared him to death. You should be proud.”