"I fuckin' told you he was sticking his cock where it doesn't belong. But you didn't wanna listen."
Behind the shade of her sunglasses, Catherine glared at Jimmy, who was sitting on the poolside lounger beside her. She was lying on her stomach, much to his contentment. The black bikini she wore left little to the imagination, and he was growing frustrated with the number of passing glances her busting cleavage received from grimy old men.
It was ten a.m. and they were both three whiskeys deep. Thanks to a heat she wasn't used to, Catherine was feeling the effects of the straight alcohol.
"Save it. A bloody 'I told you so,' is the last thing I need right now."
"You're right." Jimmy shot up, grabbing the bottle of sunblock she stashed under his chair. "But you need another coat."
Popping the bottle, he squirted a fair amount into his palm, rubbing them together. Jimmy worked the thick lotion into her ivory skin.
"I love these cute dimples you've got," he said, poking the indents in her lower back.
"Since when have I had those?"
"Since always." Once the white film absorbed, Jimmy sat back again. "Gives me a nice wee bullseye to aim for when I've got you in your favorite position."
With her middle finger, Catherine dragged the sunglasses down the bridge of her nose so she could peer at him. He loved the stern frost in her tipsy eyes. "Watch your mouth. We're in public and there are wee innocent ears around."
"Whatever." Standing up, Jimmy unbuttoned his loose-fitting shirt. He shrugged it off and dropped it on the chair with his mirrored aviators. "I'm going for a swim."
The sunglasses still low on her face, Catherine watched Jimmy stroll to the ledge of the pool. Without even dipping a toe, he dove in headfirst. Once he resurfaced, he crooked his finger to Catherine, and she jumped up.
"How cold is it?"
"It's baltic. It'll feel brilliant, though. I can see from here you're sweating like a whore in church." Catherine stuck her tongue out at him, taking off her sunglasses. "Do me a favor and put my drink under the chair. I don't want it to get too hot in the sun."
She turned around and bent down, doing as he asked. Except, his low whistle gave away his true motives and Catherine straightened up.
"You just wanted a wee look at me arse, you pervert."
"Trust me when I say I care more about the whiskey than I do your arse. Now, if I have to get out and come get you, I promise it won't end well for your arse later tonight."
Taking into consideration she was still sore from having taken his belt during a particular rough round of sex the night before, Catherine conceded. She walked to the edge, but stopped short of jumping in. The prospect of the freezing water kissing her skin didn't seem as enjoyable as being hot in the sun.
"I don't wanna! Come drink with me… I'm sad, remember?"
"Mother'a Christ," Jimmy muttered.
He hoisted out of the water. When Catherine realized what he was up to, she giggled and inched away. She didn't care their shameless flirting was on display for all to see as he wrapped her in his wet arms. There was no fight to put up while he walked the two of them to the edge of the pool. She shrieked the whole way, holding her breath when Jimmy heaved them into the deep water.
Catherine discovered he fooled her about the temperature. It was heated, but cool enough to be refreshing on such a scorching day.
He let go of her so he could swim to the surface, though when Catherine came up for air Jimmy motioned her over to him. She hooked her ankles around his waist on instinct, curling her arms around his neck. The possessive, protective way Jimmy held her was the security Catherine needed after her conversation with Dessie.
Jimmy kissed the tip of her nose. "Talk to me. You've had this murderous calm thing going on since you got off the phone with Dessie. Are you doing okay?"
Just hearing Dessie's name filled Catherine with sorrow. In a haste of explosive anger after finding out about his extracurricular activities, she told Dessie about having reconnected with Jimmy. That only made him hang up after telling her he wouldn't be at the airfield in County Cork to pick her up when she came home.
So much hanging in the balance, she had no idea where to begin with penance for her transgressions.
"I'm okay. When we get back to Cali, I may take a couple of days to myself. It'll be good for me to clear my head before heading back to Belfast."
"Belfast?" Jimmy rested his back against the concrete wall. "You're not going back to Cross?"
"I am going back to Cross. You know what I meant. He and I fucked up, but I don't think… I dunno. I just don't wanna see things end. If he's willing to forgive me, I'll forgive him."
By how tense she felt in his arms, Jimmy could tell he hadn't scratched the surface at what was bothering her. He wondered if she would ever allow him to get to the truth. There was no point in pushing her. If he did, Jimmy knew Catherine would only push him further away when all he wanted to do was get closer.
Like how they'd been before he gave in and ruined their relationship by letting Catherine convince him it was a good idea for her to join the IRA or for them to bring sex into their relationship.
He realized Catherine was unraveling at the seam, and he didn't know how to stop it from happening. It was only a matter of time before one unimportant incident lit her short fuse, causing her to go off like gelignite. The sting of a dagger straight through his chest made it hard for him to breathe at how she sounded like the broken little girl she had been so many years ago. All Jimmy wanted to do was hold her tight and protect her.
"I know this is the last conversation you wanna be having but we've gotta talk about… us. What all this bloody means and what's gonna happen once we get back to Norn Iron."
"It means nothing." Catherine looked Jimmy straight in the eyes — the exact way he's looked at law enforcement officers — and lied without flinching. "We can keep having our fun here, but once we get home, it'll go back to us only seeing each other every other weekend when we make the exchange with Eamonn."
"That's not what you want, a chuisle."
"It doesn't matter what I want, or what you want. If we get back together, we'll have two hot months before it turns toxic and ends with me getting a black eye and wee fat lip. My focus is on Eamonn, Sean, and Danny. The last thing I wanna do to those sweet boys is put 'em in the middle of our vicious cycle of fucking, fighting, and breaking up. You don't wanna hear this, but the best thing you can do for me and Eamonn, is let me be with Dessie. He's a brilliant provider like you, and he's stable."
Jimmy hadn't expected her words to hurt as much as they did. He had an inkling she thought he had a few loose screws in his head, but he never thought he'd hear her say it.
In the past, he slipped up and took out his pent-up frustrations on her because Catherine was an easy target. She let him push her as far as he did because she's one of the few sorry suckers in the word who genuinely loves him. Though, he figured she would have forgiven him as he hadn't laid a hand on her since Eamonn was born.
The back-handed slap he gave her at the pub in Oakland, Jimmy refused to count. Catherine more than deserved it, calling Ian Wright a friend. In his mind, she was lucky that was all she got for spewing such nonsense as a Republican Army leader. Neither did he acknowledge the night he attacked Catherine and Dessie in Belfast when she was pregnant with Danny. They stole from him. What did they expect to happen? He'd let it go?
Jimmy wasn't insulted, because what she said was true. They couldn't pull the boys into their volatile… whatever it is.
On the surface it was a relationship, but now Jimmy wondered what it was keeping them together. The sexual attraction never faded, but they also seemed to do just fine on their own when they were caught up in the craziness of their personal and professional lives.
It had to be the emotional connection, he guessed. Only when life became hard and it was difficult to breathe under the pressure did they venture back to each other so one could lick their wounds without fearing the outside world.
Catherine's life turned on its head four times in a week. She needed Jimmy to watch her back so she could heal in peace.
And that sure as shit told him that whatever was going on between them right now was far from nothing.
"If you go back to him, he'll only step out again because you'll send the message that behavior is something you're willing to put up with."
"I disagree. He and I are just stuck in our old ways. Our relationship went from just screwin' around to a baby and wedding bells in four bleedin' months. For Christ's sake, we've only been married and living together for twelve weeks. I see this as a major reality check… he and I need to grow the fuck up. If we put our minds to it and work hard to change this shite, we'll be suckin' diesel." Jimmy opened his mouth, but Catherine slapped her hand over it before he said anything stupid. "Can we please just drop this conversation and enjoy our last wee day together before we're thrown back into the shitstorm waiting for us?"
Jimmy swallowed the fury he was ready to unload on her. The constant mind games were childish and annoying. One minute she was screaming how much she hated him, then the next she was riding his dick because she needed to feel better about herself. The flip-flopping was giving him whiplash.
Then the harsh truth slapped Jimmy in the face. What she was doing to him with Dessie was exactly what he'd done to her with Fiona.
Unwrapping Catherine's legs from around his waist, Jimmy hoisted her up, flipping her backwards into the water.
She wanted a fun day, so that's what he'd give her.
Jimmy changed their plans last minute.
He loved days where there were no appointments scheduled in his packed itinerary; he was also smart enough to know it was never a good idea to let a business opportunity slip by.
Coming out of the bathroom clean of sunblock and chlorine, Jimmy was tucking his undershirt into his trousers when he stopped dead in his tracks. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Catherine held a short, light pink, sleeveless dress to her hourglass frame. With her hair pinned back into a sleek high bun, and her makeup soft and natural, she was naked expect for a thong that was so tiny Jimmy wasn't sure it classified as underwear.
He lost all thoughts of pinning her to the bed once he spotted the all too familiar Chanel shopping bag. When he told her they were meeting people for dinner, Catherine insisted on hitting the wealth of shops the Bellagio offered, arguing she needed a new outfit. Not wanting to spend the money she won at the casino, all she had to do was bat her eyelashes and he handed over his credit card.
Not that he minded. Her being occupied let him catch up on the mounting work.
"How much did that cost me?"
"Nine-twenty," said Catherine, disinterested. She didn't take her attention away from the mirror. "And the shoes were seven-hundred."
Realizing how far over the one-thousand-dollar budget she went, Jimmy darted for the bed. He snatched the beige shoe box from a bag he hadn't noticed on the floor. Tossing off the lid, he picked up one of the black leather Louboutin pumps.
"These look exactly like the pair you packed!"
Spinning around, Catherine laid the dress on the bed with care. Those pink nipples, which were as hard as diamonds, almost made him forget about the bill she racked up on his American Express.
She tugged the shoe out of his hand. "They're nothing like the pair I packed. The heels on these are way shorter so they won't kill my feet before we get to after dinner cocktails."
After putting the pump back, Catherine opened the wardrobe and produced a freshly pressed button-down. Jimmy's reaction had been what she expected, so she came prepared. She smiled, crooning, "It's Hugo Boss."
Like Catherine's weakness for French couture, Jimmy had a soft spot for the German fashion label.
The deep creases in his forehead softened, admiring her find. "It is a nice color."
"I knew you'd go with the charcoal gray, so I figured a light blue would look grand." Taking the shirt off the hanger, she handed it to Jimmy to put on. While she straightened out the collar, he buttoned up and tucked in. "Would ya look at that? It's a perfect match."
With Jimmy dressed, Catherine went back to putting herself together. He helped her with her strapless bra, then she battled her way into a pair of close-fitting Spanx. The dress hugging in all the right places, Catherine spun around so Jimmy could zip her up. When he finished, he pressed a small kiss to the nape of her neck.
"I love when you wear this color, but I have to say you're bleedin' gorgeous in green."
Catherine chuckled, changing the subject. "You never told me who we're meeting."
"Noel Finnerty. He's an old army mate who lives in the area."
The name didn't sound familiar.
"From the Ra?"
"Not that army, a chuisle." Jimmy watched Catherine dig through her bag for perfume. She spritzed it on her neck. "We severed together in the 22 Special Air Service; saw combat together in the Falklands. When I came back to Belfast, he stayed in and called it quits after the Gulf War. He married an American he met while in the Middle East… Valentina… she was an officer in the Air Force. Lovely doll, she is. You'll like her."
"If youse are good mates, how come this is the first time I'm hearing about him?"
"He may live here now, but he's still a wee Tyrone boy at heart. We help each other out so we like to keep our association on the down low."
Jimmy sat on the edge of the bed when Catherine put the perfume bottle away. She found the silver and onyx cufflinks he always struggled with. She grabbed his wrist, feeding the cufflink through the small hole in the sleeve.
"He was in the SAS. You're sure we can trust him?"
"Aye." When she finished with his right wrist, he gave her the other. Jimmy wasn't sure why her question rubbed him the wrong way. It wasn't like she was intentionally being rude by making it seem she didn't trust him either for being part of the most-hated special forces. "Like I said, he's from Tyrone. We lost contact for a while after I left, but he sought me out after they massacred the fellas in Loughgall." Both cufflinks secure, Jimmy hopped off the bed and stuffed his wallet into his pocket. He mumbled under his breath, but Catherine still heard him, "And you wonder why I never tell you about my time in."
"Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to bloody mean?"
"It means your da, Filip, and I did too good of a job filling your head when you were a wee girl."
"That's not true!" Catherine defended. "I didn't know youse were involved, but I still couldn't stand what was going on."
"You sure about that?" he mocked, lighting a cigarette. "You told the lads on the Falls where the foot patrols were so I think it's safe to assume where your loyalty was. Besides, you never asked. Just figured, like everyone else, you were ashamed of me having been part of the SAS."
Catherine's heart dropped into her stomach. She never asked because she guessed if it were something he wanted to talk about, he would have brought it up on his own.
Taking his cheeks into her hands, Catherine planted a kiss right on his mouth. When she pulled away, she took the cigarette he offered.
"You said it yourself — you enlisted so you'd be one less mouth to feed. Not because you thought it was some patriotic duty. I respect you for that, and I'll never be ashamed of you for making that tough decision. Are you ashamed of it?"
He fell silent for a moment, trying to plan the right answer.
"The worst part is, I enjoyed being in the military. And it's not like I chose the SAS. A commander recommended me and I passed because it was something I was halfway decent at." Jimmy pursed his lips, looking at the ceiling. Catherine sensed years of festering resentment was about to boil over. "No one trusted me when I came home, but they fucking made Filip out to be some goddamn hero because of his court-martial. Everyone around me made me feel ashamed of myself. Even your da said I was a traitor who should be shot on sight. When I got involved, I had to jump through hoops none of the other lads had to so I could prove I was loyal. It was bloody humiliating and soul crushing. I only put up with it because I was so fucking angry about what those RUC bastards did to me brother. And then Loughgall happened… and Gibraltar… and Clonoe. The lads blamed me for all those fellas bein' killed by the SAS when I wasn't in anymore! It was after you got hurt at the funeral I told myself I wasn't gonna look back on those four and to stop feelin' sorry for myself because I wanted to make 'em pay."
Catherine discarded the cigarette into a bottle of water. "If they didn't trust you, why did they recruit you?"
Jimmy gazed at Catherine, trying to stop the answer that was bubbling in his throat from spilling out of his mouth. He didn't want to tell her; it wasn't his story to share. But he was tired of the secrets and wanted the truth out in the open.
He jabbed his finger into his chest. "Because I finished the job they sent Filip to do! He finished basic, and that was enough to change the way we trained recruits, but that was all he leaned before he got his arse thrown out. I learned the combat and reconnaissance techniques, so that made me…"
Because I finished the job they sent Filip to do.
Catherine checked out of the conversation, going straight for her backpack. She rummaged through it, and Jimmy's eyes went wide as he watched her pull out a large Ziplock bag stuffed to the gills with mini bottles of liquor. Finishing out the Fireball whiskey, Catherine sat on the bed. Unscrewed cap in one hand, she guzzled the entire shooter without wincing.
When she grabbed another bottle, Jimmy realized this would be a long night.
