Fifth Avenue Fling: A Grumpy Boss Romantic Comedy (Billionaires In Charge)
Fifth Avenue Fling: Chapter 35

Two weeks later

I tilt my head back toward the sun and close my eyes as the ladies chitchat and set up their mats. It’s a gorgeous Saturday morning, and I’m exactly where I should be—teaching yoga for free in the park in Queens.

I can’t help but smile.

A new start.

Tomorrow, Orla and I move into our very own apartment in Brooklyn—the dodgy end. Sure, we have no lounge area because it’s been converted into a second bedroom. That’s the only way we can afford it, but it’s still all ours.

A throat clears, a deep voice cutting my daydream.

I snap my eyes to see Killian standing in front of me. My heart practically stops as I take in his handsomeness. A shiver of excitement runs up my spine as our eyes lock. I haven’t seen him since that day in Ireland.

“Is there room for one more?”

“How did you know I was back?” I mumble.

He smiles. “I knew the second you landed. I told you I would give you your space. I’m playing the long game. It’s the only way I’ll win your trust.”

I stayed in London for five days before spending a shit ton of money on a last-minute flight to New York. As I stood atop the Shard, the tallest building in Europe, I had a realization. An epiphany.

Sure, you can exchange one exciting city for another; you can surround yourself with cool tourist attractions, never-ending nightlife, appealing job prospects, quirky restaurants…

But you can’t take your heart with you. While looking out at the Tower of London, I realized my heart was still in New York. No pretty view could make up for not being near that brownstone, its grumpy owner, or his daughter. Or Orla, of course. I bawled loudly on the viewing deck, and my cousin was very embarrassed.

“Are we starting, Clodagh?” Dominic, one of the footballers, grumbles from his mat.

My cheeks flush as I look around at the guys on their mats, waiting patiently. The women are watching me like a hawk, winking and grinning. One of them has the audacity to wolf-whistle.

I grit my teeth at her in warning.

“Well?” His brow rises expectantly. “Can I join in?”

My pulse soars. “Sure.”

His eyes flicker with emotion. “Good. I’d like to buy a block of ten classes. I’ll be back every week.”

***

Three weeks later

We settle onto barstools as the bartender makes our Manhattans. We’re celebrating Orla getting to the next set of exams to enter the police force.

I haven’t been back to Killian’s hotel bar since #soapgate. The first time I clapped eyes on the grumpy billionaire owner. Memories of that day come flooding back. I felt so desperate. Nothing was in my control.

Now I’m in a happier place.

The jazz band plays softly in the corner, creating a quiet backdrop for conversation. I smile thinking about the difference when the band in The Auld Dog plays; you get a sore throat shouting over them.

“What are you smiling about?” Orla asks as the drinks appear in front of us.

“I’m just glad to feel settled finally,” I say. I’m starting a new job at a furniture store in Brooklyn.

The pay isn’t amazing; in fact, I might have to start a bed-share arrangement to save cash, but it’s a start. I’ll be back doing a job I love.

“Here’s to my best friend Orla getting to the next set of exams to enter the police force,” I say, clinking my glass against hers.

Orla’s eyes shine with delight.

“So after your exam next Wednesday, what’s the next stage?” I ask. “And I still can’t believe you’re going to become a cop. It sounds better in our accent too.”

“Hmm.” Orla peeks over my shoulder, then returns her gaze to me. Her expression shifts to guilt.

My heart rate jumps, and I already know, I just know, who she’s gawking at.

I turn.

He’s here.

Alone.

The energy in the room shifts, the same way it felt that first day I set eyes on him.

Heads turn and conversations stop as every eye in the room follows him. Everyone knows who he is. It’s like the president has just arrived. He’s in a three-piece black suit so sexy he should be auditioning for the next Bond movie.

I clench my glass harder as I face Orla again. “Is this a coincidence, or did you plan this?”

She bites her lip. “Guilty. Anyway, why are you so jittery? The man has been chasing you for weeks now.”

“I don’t know. I can’t help it.” Killian gives me belly flips every time I see him. When he winked at me during Saturday’s yoga class doing the plow pose, I was so jittery I nearly queefed.

I’ve seen him a few times lately, but never just the two of us. He’s been coming to yoga, and he brings Teagan with him. The leprechauns seemed to be in control of him again. When I panicked at yoga and said the delivery company let me down at the last minute, he took a day off work to drive to Jersey to pick up materials for me. Himself. He drove, himself.

“It’s time you took him back. You’ve made him sweat long enough.”

“Why?”

“Because if you take him back, I’ll get the apartment to myself a few nights a week.”

“Gee, thanks,” I say sarcastically.

She smiles. “You’re welcome. Now, put him out of his misery already. He hates yoga. The scowl on his face after he face-planted during downward-facing dog on Saturday said everything.”

I laugh shakily. “You’re right; he does hate it. He grunts too much. No one should grunt during yoga.”

My body tingles, and I can feel him standing behind me.

“Hey,” a low voice murmurs close to my ear.

I swivel on my barstool and find myself staring into an intense pair of blue eyes. The bar and everyone in it fades into nothing. “Hey,” I breathe.

“Is this seat taken?”

“You can have mine,” Orla chimes in, winking at Killian. Before I can respond, she leaps off the seat.

He smiles at her. “Thanks, Orla.”

“I won’t wait up,” she whispers into my ear before blowing us both a kiss goodbye.

Killian takes a seat on the stool, his eyes sweeping over me from toe to head.

I try not to react even though my heart pounds a million beats a second. “What are you doing here, Killian?” I keep my eyes glued to my drink as I slowly stir it.

“Look at me.”

When I look up, he’s staring at me. “Please give me the chance to make you happy, to prove myself. Let me love you and show you that I want the best for you.” He slips his hands onto both sides of my jawline and draws me closer. “What do I need to do to prove it to you? Do you need me to get on my knees?”

His smirk is so cocky, it pisses me off. “Yes, actually,” I deadpan. “That would be a start.”

“Okay.”

Stunned, I watch as he lowers himself to his knees in front of me. Killian Quinn is literally kneeling before me. If people were staring before, their eyes have fallen out of their heads now.

He looks up at me expectantly, not seeming to care that everyone is watching him. The man has no shame.

“Alright then,” I whisper with a giggle, pulling him up to standing height again. “Let’s do this on one condition.”

“Anything.”

I smile. “We burn that manual.”

He responds by pulling me in for a kiss so passionate that the entire world around us fades away, and it’s just the two of us.

***

Killian

One week later

“I love you, Clodagh Kelly, my little thief. My little heart thief.”

I press my thumb against her clit, with just enough pressure to make her moan, as my other hand caresses her hip.

Her emerald eyes become a little glassy. “Ahhhh. Sir,” she says with a breathy laugh. “I’m… I think I’m close.”

Her breathing quickens, and her movements become more erratic as she rides my cock. She clenches around me, the climax shattering through her.

“It’s mine,” I say in a low voice, feeling insanely territorial. Her orgasm will always be mine. “No other guy was meant to have it.”

I groan as I come too, hard and fast. I hold her hips tight, ensuring she gets every last drop of me.

She sputters out a laugh before collapsing onto me, her legs still straddling my body. This is the first time she’s come while we were having sex. If I were to die now, I’d die a happy man.

I grin up at her as her hands glide over my chest.

“Thank you, Mr. Quinn,” she purrs.

“If you really want to thank me, move back in with me,” I blurt out.

Shit.

Of course I want it, but I don’t want to scare her away so soon. “I’m thirty-six. I’m through playing games. I want you with me.”

Her eyes go wide, then she smirks. “Are you trying to get me to clean your bathroom again?”

“Fuck no.” I chuckle, trailing my hand down her bare stomach. “You were terrible at it the first time. Mrs. Dalton does a much better job.”

Shame she’s retiring, though. She’s moving to Boston to be with her daughter. From here on out, it’s just me and Teagan… and the cleaners from my seven-star hotel.

I gaze into those mesmerizing green eyes of hers and breathe in deeply. “I want you to move in because I love you.”

“Okay.” She nods, then shakes her head contradictorily. “That’s a good reason, but no.”

“No?” I jostle her hips. What the hell?

“I love you too, Killian, and I want us to be together forever, but I want to live in Brooklyn with Orla first. Life in New York isn’t a fairy tale, remember?” She smirks. “In a few years, I’ll move in.”

“I guess I’ll just have to wait.” I sigh with a smile on my face. “You’re the boss.”