George nodded. “What do you say?”

“Fuck yeah!” Owen hollered.

Kate smiled brilliantly at George and elbowed Owen in the ribs.

“Oh, sorry. Um, yes, sir. I’d love that.”

“Don’t fucking sir me. You’d be reporting to me and I’ll train you for a couple of weeks.”

Owen couldn’t hide the excitement on his face. “Thank you so much, Will. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You’re family, yeah?” He spoke to Owen, but looked at Kate.

“Go raibh maith agat,” Owen said, this time in his native language.

“You’re welcome. We provide for family,” George said. “You guys want a beer?”

They both nodded, grins plastered to their bright-eyed faces.

“Kate, go ask Hazel for a couple of beers.”

She got up, smile still splitting her face. Her dark hair, the identical color of George’s, was pulled into a messy bun, her light eyes sparkling as she winked at him and went to the bar. Kate was the youngest and the quietest of the Finnegan clan. She was smart, considerate, and never asked him for anything, which was different than her sisters.

When George was sure she was out of earshot, he leaned close to Owen and clapped him on the shoulder companionably. “Owen, I’ll provide for my family. You fuck with her and you’re fucking with my family. If you fuck with my family, you’re done. Got it?” Leaning back, George scooped a forkful of potatoes and put it in his mouth, never breaking eye contact with the young Irishman.

* * *

George got off his bike and walked up the stairs to his mother’s house. He’d always taken Sundays off from the bar so that he could eat Sunday dinner with his family. He’d stopped coming to these Sunday family events when he and Stella first started dating; it was probably one of the reasons his family didn’t like her, but that was his fault. He couldn’t take more time off from the bar and when he did take time off he wanted to spend it with her, in her.

He saw Kara’s SUV and smiled because he’d get to see Finn. The door opened as he was walking up the stairs.

“Will, we didn’t know we’d be graced with your presence tonight,” Kelly said as she gave him the once over. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

He leaned in and kissed Kelly’s cheek. She was the middle sister and was always full of piss and vinegar. “Hey, sis. You good?”

“Perfect as usual,” she said sardonically.

“What’s the craic?” George used the Irish expression asking her what’s the news.

“Fuck off, Will. You just show up when you want to now, huh? Is that how it is?”

“I’m coming to Sunday dinner because I have the night off work and wanted to see my family. I didn’t know I need to make a reservation, Kelly.”

He walked by her through the entryway into the dining room where everyone was gathered, drinking and chatting boisterously. His heart swelled at the sight; he felt guilty for not making them a priority lately, but Stella had taken over the number one position and they’d just have to deal with it.

His mom turned and saw him, her face lighting up with delight. “Will!” she exclaimed.

“The prodigal son has returned!” Kelly called from the entryway to the dining room. Her features were almost identical to her sisters’, her eyes the same grey-green as his. Her dark hair fell down her back in loose waves. He remembered when she was little she couldn’t pronounce her Rs—he used to torment her asking if she wanted some water.

He ignored her and embraced his mom. The pitter patter of little feet alerted him before Finn hugged the back of his legs.

“Unca Wih!” Finn’s hair was braided down her back, but loose black curls were falling out. “Where’s Ewwa?”

“Ms. Stella is in New York City today for an interview, so she couldn’t make it.” Or she would’ve refused to make it if he’d asked her. He reached around her body and lifted Finn up to his chest and gave her a proper hug. “I need to see you more often.”

Finn giggled and struggled to get down. He put her down gently and kissed her forehead.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Jack jeered. Kelly and Jack had only been married a few years, but George had taken an immediate dislike to him when they met and he was moderately sure that this aversion had caused his sister to marry him quickly.

George exhaled slowly; he and Kelly had always had a difficult relationship and he’d never understood why. George’s eyes narrowed at him, recalling what he’d said about Stella last year. “I’m sure you’ll get over it,” he spit through clenched teeth.

Kara pulled him into an embrace. “It’s good to see you, big brother.”

“You too, Care Bear.”

His mom had cooked corned beef and cabbage and everyone was sitting at the table eating. His mom had rushed into the kitchen and gotten him a plate, piling it high with food. They talked and ate for a few minutes and caught up on all the family gossip.

George cleared his throat. “So, I’ve taken a job where I’ll be a reporter following Senator Ashby during the campaign.”

“That’s fantastic,” Kara’s husband, John, said, putting his fork down and looking at Kara with a smile.

“Will, that’s so exciting,” Kara agreed.

“How did you get that job?” Kelly inquired.

George felt his face redden. His sister worked on the Hill; he wondered if she’d heard something. He didn’t say anything.

“Well, that is very impressive. It’s like you never left.” His mom raised a glass and toasted.

Whew. The rest of dinner was pleasant and George was glad he’d come. He’d missed the family dinners; maybe he’d be able to talk Stella into coming with him the next time.

* * *

Stella had gone straight to work Monday morning from New York. George placed the open bottle of Cristom, Stella’s favorite pinot, on the bar, and arranged the platters of cheese, olives, crackers and meats. He was hoping to get Stella good and sated with wine and food before telling her his news. He knew New York was hard for her; opening up was against her nature and to do it knowing that everyone in America could see it would be like scraping nails against a chalkboard. The only things she told him were that she was pissed he’d hired goons to follow her around and it served him right that everyone thought she was fucking them and that she’d told Millie everything. He poured two glasses and then put his phone in the speakers, picking Alabama Shakes as the background music. What was he forgetting? He heard the garage door go up and then the door opened.

Stella walked into the house and he could feel the tension radiate off of her as she patted Cooper’s head and dropped her suitcase to the floor with a thud.

She smiled weakly at him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he brought her over a glass of wine, “tough couple of days?” He kissed her forehead and pulled her into him.

“Tough couple of years,” she responded and then took a gulp of the wine. “Oh, George. Are you really this fucking perfect? My favorite wine? And cheese. Blue cheese and olives.” She walked over to the trays of food and started shoving it into her mouth.

“You hungry?” he chuckled.

“Starving.” She smiled a tired, real smile.

“I know you texted me, but how’d it go? Really?” He stood next to her, his shoulder rubbing hers.

“It was hard, but Millie said it went well. It felt horrible.” She plucked an olive from the group in the tray and threw it in her mouth. “I got drunk afterward because she accused me of fucking Patrick. Millie, not Diane. I told her everything.” She paused for a few seconds. “George, I told her everything. I’m so fucking stupid.”

“You’re human, Love.” He pulled her into his arms and squeezed her, then tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

“Can’t. Breathe….” She coughed and stepped back.

“Oh, sorry.” He’d been lost in his own thoughts and didn’t realize he was hugging her so tight. Could he actually leave her with all this shit going on? Would there even be a time when all this shit wasn’t going on?

“What’s up?”

“Did Diane like your shoes?” he asked, deflecting the question.

She laughed. “I think she was shocked by them and amused that I’d shocked her. She was really nice to me. I’m glad she did the interview.” Stella put a piece of cheese on her cracker and put the entire thing in her mouth.

He stared at her mouth, picturing the other things she could do with it.

“What?” She smirked, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

He adjusted himself in his pants; sex would happen later. “So, I got this opportunity,” he started, running his finger down her arm.

“What sort of opportunity?” she asked, putting an entire cracker in her mouth again with a shit-eating grin, knowing she was teasing him.

“The sort that wants me to travel with Senator Ashby during his presidential campaign,” he answered, distracted by her mouth. He ran his thumb across her bottom lip and she knocked it away.

“What?!” Stella excitedly threw her arms around George. “That’s amazing! I’m so excited for you.”

“I leave in a week, for what seems like forever.” George analyzed her eyes to see if she put her mask on. She didn’t.

“What? The elections are like a year away!” she exclaimed.

“I’ll be following the campaign for the primary, which is why I’m starting so early. Everyone will be so fucking tired of these fuckers by the elections, they’ll be drafting you to run.” He smiled.

“That’s so awesome! If you’re worried about me, don’t be,” she said, distracting him by unbuttoning his shirt. She dropped little kisses on his chest and his dick stood at attention immediately. She was trying to divert his attention and it was working.

“But, I’m worried about you, about us, about you…”

Stella skated her nails down his chest. “I’m fine. We’re fine.”

George’s hands began hurriedly taking off Stella’s clothes until she stood there naked, waiting for him. “If you say ‘don’t go,’ I won’t.”

She pushed his hands away from her. “George, I’m never going to do that to you. I want you to follow your dreams and do whatever you want to do. I’ll never tell you that you can’t do something you want to do. You’ll never be able to say ‘you know that bitch that wouldn’t let me do x, y, z.’”

“No, it’s not like that.” He shook his head, not taking his eyes off her bare breasts. They moved as she talked—it was fascinating. “I just want you to know that you’re more important than any job. You are my first priority.”

“Show me what being your first priority means,” Stella said, waiting for him to finish undressing; she had already thrown his shirt on the floor.

“I’m waiting for you to take my pants off,” he reminded her.

“Oh, that I can do.”

* * *

Stella answered her cell while she was reviewing legal authority for Colorado statutes allowing the consumption of marijuana if individuals have a prescription. Her hair was just getting long enough that she could put it back now, and she’d pulled it up in a messy bun over an hour ago. Stella slid her shoes off her feet and leaned back in her chair. She needed to prepare herself for the release of the statement to the press from Congresswoman Delaney. She’d been arrested for smoking a joint at a concert at the Red Rocks a few weeks back and Stella was spinning things, but she needed to make sure she was knowledgeable of the law.

“Stella Murphy.”

“Stella. So, I’m doing some digging and I want to make sure I give you as much information as possible so you know where we are with the investigation.” Agent Harris’ voice was full of something she couldn’t put her finger on.

She hadn’t heard from him in a few days, only from Gunter, and she didn’t know if Agent Harris was aware that Jamie was back at the ATF or what. This ought to be interesting.

“Have you found Jack?”

“He’s back at ATF headquarters saying that you blew his cover in Montana and he’s been on the run since the day you guys flew there.” His tone was now full-on sardonic.

“That’s total bullshit,” she retorted.

“ATF bought it hook, line, and sinker.” He laughed. “I also heard why you were assigned to Montana in the first place. You interested?”

“Sure,” she tried to appear nonchalant, but that question had ruled her thoughts when she first woke up in the hospital.

“Well, the FBI agent that was in charge of the Montana office just happened to be in DC when they hired you for the lawyer position. He requested the really hot, young attorney that was just hired because you looked good in the black suit you wore to your interview.”