Gallagher's weary face contrasted sharply with the strong hands that were skillfully mixing drinks and pouring them into glasses for the few customers at the bar. A glimmer of warmth flickered in eyes dimmed by unfulfilled hopes as you crossed the threshold and the clatter of your shoes echoed across the floor.

Gallagher, on the pretext of a shortened workday, had unobtrusively asked the others to leave the room-except you, of course. The lie was obvious. Siobhan would probably reprimand him later for this amateurishness, but right now he was far less concerned about it than he was about your presence.

His eyelids, heavy with fatigue, fluttered as your lips touched his cheek in a fleeting kiss. As if receiving silent permission, Gallagher gently wrapped his arms around your waist, feeling the thin fabric of your dress.

"Did you miss me?" there was a hopeful, almost pleading tone in Gallagher's voice as he showered your cheeks with tender kisses. He treated you more like a fragile flower than the strong, independent woman you were.