2 Out and about- II

She slammed the door shut before walking inside the gates. The moment Joyce stepped in, Kane's tires screeched away from the entrance.

Ducking hell. He couldn't be more spot on with it.

"Hey, Babe." A kiss landed on her cheek before a hand did on her shoulder. "Woah, why do you look so flushed?"

George Jones, blue eyed blonde with a slender body, someone who probably would be knocked out in the first punch by one of her father's men.

But eh, love happens.

"I am Irish," she shrugged.

"Okay," George chuckled, "I don't think that's a reasonable explanation my love."

'My love' her insides formed at that endearment. How long has she waited to hear those words in her life?

George might be someone who could not take a punch nor could he give one but he was still perfect in every other way. He was caring, observant of what she wanted and the best part of all, he was nothing like her father.

The overbearing, overprotective and ever so dominant Killian O'Sullivan.

They had different classes, had enrolled in different streams but had met through some people in a bar. God forbid if her grandmother ever found out that she had been to one.

But since she always left early to her university, she had ample time to go to a breakfast bar with George.

"So, how's your mother?" She asked, remembering that the woman had had a heart attack not so long ago.

George put down the menu card to answer her. "She is good. Refuses to not go to work. Honestly, I've told the bloody woman to sit and rest. That and I can do everything but she refuses to listen!"

Joyce could not help but laugh. She could imagine her mother doing the same thing. Brianna could not sit down for the life of her.

After ordering their breakfast, they sat together in silence as she continued to look out of the glass wall that they were sitting next to.

His warm hand enveloped her own, making her look at him. Those blue eyes always seemed to twinkle whenever she looked at them. Something about him calmed her, gravitated her towards him.

"What?" She whispered, holding onto his gaze. "Is something the matter?"

He laughed softly. Reaching over, he punched the apple of my cheeks. "I love it when you get red. It matches the colour of your hair."

"Sure shit." She muttered, her Irish accent popping in. Her eyes went to the waitress bringing their food over to the table, pulling their joint hands to the side, she made space for this food that was kept in front of them.

"Ready to eat?" George grinned, his eyes twinkling at the familiar challenge.

"Get set and go, baby." Joyce whispered before digging in. The competition had already begun.

******

Just as their homework was being distributed, still in university, Joyce was on the verge of popping up from her seat running her arse out of the door.

Her leg kept on shaking as the TA passed her the sheet that she grabbed as quickly as possible.

Shit, this was going to take her hours to solve. The math that she had chosen as her minor, was going to eat her alive. Courtesy to her father who thought Math was going to help her in life.

She knew why he had done that. He thought that maths was going to keep her busy in college. At least to the extent of her not roaming around with boys.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, making her fish it out and look at it.

AOIFE:

A major guest incoming tonight. Come home ASAP. Dad's going to call you.

Cursing in her mind, she glanced at the sheet that needed to be submitted by the end of the month. If she got started on it now, she could complete it just in time because maths sucked.

Dad was going to call her when her class finished. Five minutes later she was outside waiting for it, her phone rang. He always called her after her class. Having access to her schedule, it was one reason for her that she could not not pick up the call for.

"Hello daddy,"

"Kid," His voice grumbled in, "I want you home now."

"Okay, I am leaving then." George appeared in front of her, making his way to her with a huge smile on his face. God forbid, if her father heard him call her name.

She waited for him to hang up the phone, which he did surprisingly late but did nonetheless. Just as George reached her, she pushed the phone into her pocket.

"Hi baby," he kissed her lips, "ready to go for lunch?"

"No really," she winced. She had promised him. "I have to go and look after the shop. Daddy needs to go take care of nanna again."

Those beautiful blue eyes dimmed. "Oh," he nodded. "I will see you tomorrow?"

Standing on her tiptoes, Joyce kissed his mouth before grinning against the lips, "you bet your sweet arse you will."

Whosoever was coming to her house, God be damned on him.