Perfect Sinner by Maggie Cole

4

Gemma

Nolan won't letme carry my overnight bag. He also grabbed my suitcase. He wheels it into my bedroom and sets the bag on my bed.

My insides haven't stopped quivering since we left my mother's house. It's not any different since Orla came into my life. The time when I felt happy and energetic no longer exists. My old life is becoming a mere memory. The more I analyze it, the deeper I fall into a darker space.

Nolan doesn't move, studying me. I haven't said anything since we left. I'm not in the mood to fight or hear anything else today about how much he detests me.

"Thanks. I'm going to unpack." I open my suitcase, hoping he'll leave. His presence is just a reminder of who I am and what I now can't have.

"Are you okay? That got a bit intense at your mom's," he acknowledges. His voice is softer than I've heard before, and it throws me for a loop.

"Don't start being nice to me now," I attempt to joke, but my voice shakes. I pull a stack of shirts out of my suitcase and open the white dresser drawer.

"Gemma—"

"I'm fine. I'm sure you have lots to do today, so don't let me get in your way." I shut the drawer and return to my suitcase then pick up the pile of my underwear.

"You haven't eaten today," Nolan says.

I shrug. "So? It's not like I work out anymore." I used to make sure I ate throughout the day and fueled my body for my workouts. I've always been an athlete. The last few months, as more depression set in, I stopped doing at-home workouts. It's okay as a one-off but boring and another reminder I'm not free.

"Why aren't you working out?"

I continue to avoid looking at him. I open the second drawer and add my panties. "The last time I ran outside was months ago. One of Orla's guys ran next to me. He threatened me the entire way home. The same guy jumped on the treadmill at the gym a week later."

Nolan stays quiet for a few minutes. I grab some hangers out of the closet, blinking hard. Working out was something I did for fun and my sanity. It also allowed me to compete. All of that is gone now.

He finally says, "How far do you run?"

I sarcastically laugh. "I don't anymore."

"When you did. How far?"

I put a black dress on the hanger. I mumble, "What the hell was I thinking when I packed?" Like I'll be going anywhere that requires a dress, much less a cocktail one.

"Two miles? Five miles? How far?" he asks again.

"It depends. Normally at this time of the year, I would start training for the triathlons or races I do every spring, summer, and fall," I admit.

Nolan grabs my sneakers out of my suitcase. "Great. I haven't run today. Get ready. We'll run down to Nora's and have lunch after."

I finally look at him. "That's several miles away."

"Four."

"Did you hear me say I haven't run in months?"

His eyes drift over my body, and heat rises to my cheeks. He cockily raises his eyebrows. "You'll be fine. Unless you're scared you can't keep up with me?"

I tilt my head. "What do you run a mile in?"

"Eight and a half minutes if I'm not trying."

In my peak form, I run five to six-minute miles. Nerves jump around in my stomach, but I agree, "Okay. Fine."

He grins. "Good. Get ready. You can unpack later." He leaves the room.

I dig through my suitcase. I'm unsure why, but I packed running clothes for the cold. It's only March, and it's a warmer day than normal in Chicago but still chilly. When I'm ready, I lace up my shoes and go out to the family room.

Nolan hands me a tube-like packet of gel. "Take this before we go."

I glance at it. "I'm fine."

He shakes his head. "You haven't had anything but your carton of acid today. If you don't eat it, we aren't going."

"We're running to lunch."

"Gemma, when's the last time you ate?" He crosses his arms.

I rack my brain. "Yesterday at Hailee's school. I had a few chicken nuggets."

"And you were sick last night. I don't need you passing out on the way to the pub. Now, eat."

I sigh. I'm not hungry, but I really want to run, especially since it's a nicer day outside. I tear open the packet and swallow all the gel. "There, happy?"

"Yup." He grabs the empty wrapper and tosses it in the trash. We do some stretches and then he puts his hand on my back and steers me outside. "If I need to slow down, let me know."

I usually would laugh at that statement. I've always been a fast runner. But my butterflies fill my gut again. I don't know what to expect after being inactive for so long.

Nolan sets a leisurely pace. As we get farther into our run, I naturally start to speed up. We run on the scenic Lakefront Trail along Lake Michigan. Since it's nice out, many people are on it. Several men pass me. My chest tightens and paranoia begins. I glance around, wondering if Orla's men are following us.

Nolan glances at me, grabs my bicep, and stops. "Gemma, you okay?"

I try to catch my breath and look over my shoulder again.

"There are six O'Malleys circled around us. You don't need to worry," he gently states.

I blink hard, trying to stop the flood of panic from overtaking me.

"Why don't we grab a cab to Nora's?" Nolan suggests.

I wipe my face. "No. I want to finish." I don't wait for him to respond and return to running, ignoring the urge to look around me. We turn onto the street the pub is on. I focus on the O'Malley's sign a mile down the road. The closer I get, the faster I run.

Nolan's beside me the entire time, and when we get to O'Malley's, I stop. We both continue walking past it.

"I'd hate to run with you when you're in shape," Nolan mutters, breathing hard.

I laugh and glance up. Sweat drips down his face and his cheeks are red. "You didn't ask me what my timed mile is."

He arches an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Five-twenty-two is my record."

He whistles. "Seven-fifteen is the best I've ever done."

"That's legit," I say.

He snorts. "Don't patronize me."

We walk a few more minutes, turn around, then go into the pub. Instead of taking a seat, he leads me to the kitchen.

A very pregnant, gorgeous, redheaded woman is sitting at a table. There's a large machine, and she pushes potatoes through it, and they come out as fries. She looks up and smiles. "Hi!"

Nolan grabs a chair and pulls it out. I sit, and he takes the seat next to mine. "Nora, this is Hailee's sister, Gemma."

Her face lights up even more. "Nice to meet you! I love Hailee!"

"Thanks. Nice to meet you, too."

Nora glances between us. "So, how did you two meet?"

I'm sure my cheeks are still red, but they grow hotter thinking about the previous night.

Nolan quickly says, "Last night. Gemma made a bet I couldn't keep up with her running." He rises. "Did the avocados and goat cheese come in?"

"Yep."

He opens the fridge, removes a loaf of sprouted bread and other ingredients. "I hope you aren't picky, Gemma. Once you eat this, you're going to want it all the time."

I assess the food he placed on the counter. "What is it?"

"It's an avocado grilled cheese. Nora, you want one?"

She shakes her head. "Boris will be here to pick me up soon. I've got a doctor's appointment. Molly needed some overtime, so she's coming in to finish these potatoes up."

I make a mental note to be overly friendly to Molly so Nolan doesn't continue to believe I'm a snob. I ask, "When are you due?"

"In a few weeks."

"Do you know what you're having?"

She shakes her head. "We decided to let it be a surprise. Liam's parents insist I'm having a girl."

"Aww."

"Guess I'm missing the party," a dark-haired man with a slight Russian accent says and comes into the kitchen. He dips down and kisses her cheek.

"This is my husband, Boris. This is Hailee's sister, Gemma," Nora says, making the introductions.

Something passes in his expression, but it fades quickly. It makes me wonder if he knows who I am. He nods. "Nice to meet you, Gemma. You ready, Nora?"

"Yep." She rises, and we all say goodbye.

Nolan washes his hands and puts a skillet on the stove. He turns it on and starts buttering the bread.

"Can I help?" I ask.

"Nope. I've got this down to a science," he claims.

"Oh, I forgot. You're a genius, right?"

Amusement crosses his expression. "I wouldn't claim that."

"Liam pretty much did."

He shrugs. "I'm good at what I'm good at, that's all."

I get up and wash my hands. Then I jump on the counter next to where he's cooking. "I assume you're good at math and science?"

"Yeah. It's easy for me." He stops slicing the avocado and pins his green orbs on me. "What do you do?"

"Nothing. I quit, remember?" I say it as if it doesn't bother me, but the sting ignites in my belly.

He studies me, and my flutters take off. "What did you do?"

"I was a Director of Marketing at Sustainable. It's a smaller turnkey firm. There were under one hundred of us. I oversaw ad and branding campaigns, everything from the pitch, to creative, to the final placement." A happy and sad nostalgia ignites within me.

Nolan chops up basil and remarks, "So you have a creative brain?"

"Yeah."

"You loved it?"

"Mmhmm." I take a deep breath and focus on the avocado. "I've never heard of this sandwich before."

"It'll be your new addiction," he boasts.

I laugh. "You're pretty sure about this sandwich."

He wiggles his eyebrows. "You'll see." He layers the bread, cheese, and other ingredients in the skillet. "What was it about your job you loved?"

I think for a few moments. "Everything. The people I worked with were fun. Being able to create a concept out of nothing and see it come to life... I don't know. There's something magical about it."

His lips twitch.

"Sorry. That sounded stupid," I state.

His face falls. He gazes at me intensely and lowers his voice. "No, it didn't. You have passion for it. Passion's a good thing, don't you think?"

My butterflies take off. I quietly agree, "Yeah."

He tears his eyes away, and I breathe deeply. He flips the sandwich.

I grab his hand and trace the green ring on his middle finger. "Is this a real emerald?"

He glances at it, and his face hardens. He seems to grapple with what to say.

Moments pass, and I assure him, "You don't have to tell me. Sorry."

His grief-stricken expression meets mine. "My daideó gave it to my father. When he died, the Baileys sent his hand to my nana. She gave it to my brother, Sean. When the Rossis killed him, they sent it in a box with his heart."

My pulse increases and jaw drops to the floor. I freeze in horror, but then ask, "I thought the Baileys killed your brother?"

More hatred pops on his face. "They are just as responsible. They set him up with the Rossis."

I grip his hand tighter. "I'm so sorry."

He sniffs hard and focuses on the ceiling. "Sean's wife Bridget moved to New York. She's an O'Connor."

Confusion fills me again. "Sorry. Should I know who they are?"

He tilts his head. In a soft tone, he asks, "You really are naive, princess, aren't you?"

I'm not sure how to answer or if he even expects me to.

Pain laces his expression. In a dry voice, he continues, "They're another crime family on the East Coast. Our family has strong ties with theirs."

"Did they have kids?" I ask.

He shifts on his feet. "Yeah. Bridget doesn't want her children to have any part of our family. She thinks only her family can keep them safe. Before they left, she gave me the ring and said Sean would want me to have it. I told her it should go to one of my nephews, but she didn't even let them keep the O'Malley name, claiming it was too dangerous."

I reach up and stroke his cheek. His painful gaze reaches mine. My voice shakes, and my eyes water. "I'm so sorry. For all of it. Your losses. What I did and said last night. All of it."

He says nothing, nods, then removes the sandwiches off the skillet. He puts them on a plate, cuts each into two triangles, then picks a piece up. He blows on it then holds it in front of my mouth. "Try this."

I take a bite and softly moan. It's the most delicious thing I've tasted in months. The herbs mix into the goat cheese and avocado perfectly.

His eyes light up. "Good, right?"

I nod then lick my lips.

He steps closer, reaches for my face, and brushes his thumb over the corner of my mouth, then slowly over my lips. My heart races faster. The scent of sandalwood and coffee beans, along with raw, male sweat, flares in my nostrils. I nervously hold my breath.

He removes his thumb and slides the tip in his mouth, sucking on it while staring at me so intensely my insides pulse. He picks up the sandwich. His deep, calm voice is like lava rolling down my spine. Cocky arrogance fills his expression. "Ready for another bite?"

"Nolan. I didn't know you were here," Molly's annoying voice rings in my ears.

Shit, shit, shit! Of course she would show up right now.

Be nice, so he doesn't think you're a snob.

Nolan assesses me one more second then steps back. "Hey, Molly. Do you want a sandwich?"

She pins her eyebrows together. In a low, hurt voice, she replies, "You made avocado grilled cheese?"

My chest tightens. Is this something he's done with her? Has he wiped cheese off her lips and sucked it off his thumb, too? Is it his signature move with women or something?

Nolan tilts his head. It's slight, but I notice it. He firmly replies, "Yes. Do you want one?"

She glances at me then him. "No." She grabs an apron and puts it on then washes her hands. She sits where Nora did, picks up a potato, and forces a smile. In a borderline snotty voice, she asks, "Are you feeling better?"

In an attempt to hide my embarrassment, I slide off the counter and match her smile. "I am. Thank you."

"Good. You left your bracelet on the floor. It's behind the cash register. At least I think it was yours. The stall smelled like vomit." She smirks.

Heat flies to my cheeks. I glance at my wrist and realize for the first time my bracelet is missing.

"Molly," Nolan reprimands.

She innocently claims, "What? It's safe and sound. She should thank me for finding it."

I stand straighter. "Thank you." I step toward the door, but Nolan stops me. "Where are you going? You didn't finish your sandwich."

"Going to get my bracelet. And I'm not hungry anymore," I say and shrug out of his grasp. If he thinks I'm going to eat his grilled cheese sandwich he uses to win women over with, he's wrong. And I'm not staying in the same room to have Molly rub it in my face that I was a drunk idiot last night.

I leave the room and go to the bar. "Hey, Darcey. I don't know if you remember me from last night—"

"Sure, I do. Are you feeling better?" Unlike Molly, her concern is genuine.

My face heats further. "Yes. I'm sorry—"

"Girl, don't apologize. No one stands a chance when the O'Malley boys are ordering drinks. They gave me the hangover from Hell last weekend. And I've worked here for years and know better."

I gratefully smile. "Thanks. Molly said my bracelet is behind the cash register?"

She turns and pulls it out of a small box. "Here you go!"

"Thanks." I slide the rose gold cuff over my wrist.

"Sure."

I walk toward the kitchen, and Nolan steps out with a to-go bag. "Ready to go home?"

"Yep," I curtly respond.

"Did you get your bracelet?" he asks.

Molly steps out and puts her hand on Nolan's biceps. In a sticky-sweet voice, she says, "Nolan, I forgot to tell you something."

I can't help it and roll my eyes. Of course she did.

He spins. "What's that?"

She beams at Nolan, and my stomach flips. "Colin's coming home soon. His assignment is over."

Nolan's face lights up, and excitement fills his voice. "When?"

"He thinks within the next month. As soon as his current project finishes, he said he's back here for good," she informs us.

"That's great, Molly."

"My mom will want to have a party for him."

"Just let me know when."

She squeezes his biceps and releases him. "I will." She turns to me. Her voice sounds as if she's my best friend. "Bye, Gemma."

Not falling for your fake niceties.I return her goodbye and leave. I step out of the pub, and Nolan grabs my arm and spins me into him.

"What are you doing?" I accuse.

His green eyes flare with flames. He growls, "You never go outside without me or one of the guys saying it's okay."

"Sorry. You don't have to be nasty about it."

He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. He lowers his voice. "The car's here."

I gaze behind me, and a black car pulls up to the curb. "Who's that?"

"One of my cousins. Let's go." He steps to the car and opens the door.

I get in, and he follows.

He opens the bag and pulls out a box. He lifts the lid, picks up the grilled cheese, and holds it to my lips. "Finish your lunch."

"Not hungry."

"Do you have something against my sandwich all of a sudden?" he attempts to tease, but I'm not budging.

I roll my head toward him. "Maybe you should have fed it to Molly."

"And we're back to this crazy notion you have that I mess around with my friend's sister," he fumes.

"Claim whatever you want. I'm not blind. And she's not innocent."

He groans. "This is getting old, princess."

"Tell me about it, prince charming," I bark back.

"You know what? Starve." He takes a bite of the grilled cheese.

I don't say anything. As soon as the car pulls in to his driveway, the garage door goes up. I go into the house and peel off my sweaty clothes. I get in the shower and stand under the hot water, wondering if I'm overreacting. It felt good to get out and run. Up until Molly showed up, things were nice between Nolan and me. But then I remember how hurt she looked, and I can't help but wonder what their history is and if he's lying.

Nolan's a bad boy. I know his type all too well. It's who I always date and why I'm still alone. In the end, you can't trust them. And one thing about a bad boy is they always have a plethora of women they want to hide.

I get out of the shower. A plate is on my bed with the grilled cheese sandwich, reheated. It smells good, and my stomach growls. I cave and eat it, but all I keep torturing myself with is the same question.

What has gone on between Molly and Nolan?