Kellys drink, after all.
And as he constantly likes to keep reminding me, I am a Kelly now.
“So, what did Elsa cook for us tonight?”
“Not Elsa. Me. I cooked. I told her from now on she didn’t have to bother herself with that part of the job and could just focus on housework.”
“And what do I tell her when you’re no longer here to cook my meals, wife?” Tiernan says, reminding me that my time here has a countdown.
“Not my problem.”
To my chagrin, the small chuckle that leaves him warms me up.
“So, what am I about to eat?”
“Birria de Chivo. I hope you like it.”
“Do you really?” Another chuckle. “And just what is Birria de Chivo?”
“Goat stew,” I singsong.
He pales for just a split second and then laughs. A true loud and proud laugh that I would never expect a man like him capable of. It almost makes him look softer somehow.
“Well, I guess it’s only fair you give me goat to eat. I would have assumed you would rather see me starve than ever feed me, wife.”
“Everyone deserves to be fed. I’m not that heartless, husband.”
“No. You’re not,” he whispers under his breath, staring right at me.
I have to look away and bow my head towards my plate when I catch his green eye softening while his blue shines bright. When I take a forkful of the delicious stew into my mouth, Tiernan takes that as his cue to start eating.
When a few long minutes pass and neither one of us attempts to say anything, I decide to break the silence by asking a few questions that have been on my mind lately.
“Not that I’m complaining, but this apartment needs a woman’s touch to make it more inviting. Didn’t any of your previous girlfriends ever offer to decorate it for you?”
Tiernan almost chokes on his stew, grabbing his glass so the wine can help it go down smoother.
“Is this really an appropriate conversation to have over dinner?”
“Why not? You’ve never given me an inkling that you care too much about propriety anyway. I don’t see the harm in wanting to know how many women have come to your apartment before me.”
“I thought your interest was purely on its décor, not how many women I’ve fucked here.”
Of course, leave it to Tiernan to leave me tongue-tied just by the way he uses the word fuck.
“I was trying to ease into it. Forgive me if I’m not as blunt as you.”
“You’re forgiven.” He chuckles, entertained.
“Well, are you going to tell me, or are you determined to leave me in suspense?”
“I think I’ll go with the latter.” He whips out that devilish grin of his before taking another sip of his wine.
When I glare at him, it only seems to amuse him further.
“Fine. I can honestly say I have never brought a woman home. I wasn’t even sure I’d ever bring you here, and I’m married to you.”
“What changed your mind?”
His humor disappears.
“Next question, acushla.”
Sensing that I struck a nerve, I don’t pester him into giving me an answer.
“How many girlfriends did you have before marrying me then?”
“None.”
“Not one?” I ask incredulously.
“No.”
“You have never had any relationships with any of your sexual partners whatsoever?”
“That’s what I said.”
When I absentmindedly bite my lip to take that tidbit of information in, he groans and turns his attention back to his plate. I immediately pull my teeth off my lip before his willingness to answer my questions vanishes.
“Have you slept with many women?”
“Yes.”
Well, that was a stupid question.
Of course he has.
The way he holds court in the bedroom is enough proof of his experience.
Ask him what you really want to know, Rosa.
“Let me rephrase. Have you slept with anyone more than once?”
“A few.”
“How many is a few?”
“Two, maybe three.”
“You don’t remember?”
“I have more important things to occupy my mind with than remembering such things.”
He’s right.
A man like him probably doesn’t even remember a woman’s name after he’s had her, much less the number of times he took her to his bed.
“For how long? How many days did those relationships last?”
“If you can call banging a woman’s head into a headboard while I fucked them from behind a relationship, then I would say no more than a couple of days. A week tops.”