Catch Me a Catch

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Catch Me a Catch Page 8

by Sally Clements


  She couldn’t believe how easily he’d diffused the situation downstairs, offering to stand in for her at the festival, and she hadn’t even thanked him. She picked up her hairbrush from the dressing table, and threw it in on top of the creased collection of clothes. Time apart was probably a good idea.

  ****

  “I have to pick the car up from Murphy’s Car Hire in Galway. Do you know where it is?” Jack asked. The miles were rapidly gobbled up as they sped down the motorway.

  “Yes. That’s one of the big ones. It’s in the city-center.”

  “They say they have branches all over.”

  “Yes, they do. When you’re finished with the car you’ll be able to drop it anywhere.”

  She struggled to sound sophisticated and casual. As if the prospect of his leaving meant nothing. She scrunched up her true feelings, and stuffed them into the hole pain was burning into the centre of her chest.

  “Trying to get rid of me?” he teased.

  “No, but I know you have things to do.” She gazed steadily ahead, veiling her turbulent emotions. “Thanks for helping Dad out.”

  “I’m in no hurry to leave,” he answered lazily.

  “Is your mobile in your bag?”

  She nodded, and he reached for it. “I’m going to put my number in so you can call me. You’ll want to know how things go while you’re away.”

  He was right. Despite her initial trepidation, she had built a good rapport with some of their clients. She was itching to know how Noel’s date with Annabel had gone.

  “Thanks. You’ll need to give Dad a report tonight. Especially if he’s going to be back on duty tomorrow…”

  “Why are you so nervous?” His voice was a low murmur in the quiet car.

  “I’m not nervous.” She shrugged, and glanced in the rear view mirror. “I don’t know what gave you that idea. Dad will be grateful of your presence tonight anyway. He’s always hoping for a bit of male companionship on Saturdays.”

  “You’d better explain that,” he replied dryly. “Your father doesn’t seem the type.”

  “Jack!” Her dimples flashed as she glanced his direction, shaking her head at his expression. “You’re an evil man. And him a matchmaker.”

  “Well, what did you mean when you said your father’s hoping for male company?”

  “Saturday night,” she paused for effect, “is LADIES night. During the festival, Mum can’t get out to the pub with the girls, because it’s the last place a decent, married woman should be. Instead, the ladies come to our house.”

  “You’re leaving me alone with all these ladies?”

  “Not one of them is your type.” She was confident of that. The average age of the women who frequented ladies night was sixty-five.

  “I’m completely confident leaving you in their company. You’ll be eating in the sitting room with Dad, while they take over the kitchen. That’s the way it normally goes. Men one place, women another. If I was there I’d be in the kitchen with them, but there’s matters discussed during ladies night,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, “that shouldn’t reach the ears of ANY man.”

  “Sounds terrifying.”

  “Believe me, it is. I’m just sorry I won’t be there to see it.”

  “See what?”

  “The first time the ladies get an up close and personal look at ‘my boyfriend’.” She shook her head. “On second thoughts I’m SO glad I get to avoid that. By the time they meet again the festival will be old news, and…” So will we. The end of the sentence sounded like a death knell in her mind.

  “We’ll be spending some quality time getting to know each other,” he finished.

  ****

  The words shot straight from heart to mouth, bypassing brain altogether. He’d meant to ease into it, not potentially startle her into causing a traffic accident.

  “What?” She stared at the road ahead. They passed a ‘Galway city center’ signpost on the left.

  “I was hoping you might show me around Dublin. After the festival is over, of course.”

  The scent of Annie teased his nostrils. A subtle mix of warm woman tinged with citrus. Her warm body was near, if he edged closer a fraction their bodies would be touching. It was intoxicating. Electricity arced between them.

  “You made your feelings clear last night, Jack. I don’t think spending time together in Dublin is a good idea.”

  “There’s the car rental place.”

  Annie pulled into a shopping center parking lot and turned off the engine.

  He had to say it right. Screwing up again wasn’t an option. “You thought I rejected you last night. You were wrong.” She stared out of the window, effectively blocking him out. He dragged in a ragged breath and blundered on. “I wanted you last night. Couldn’t sleep for wanting you.” He grasped the hands she twisted in her lap. “I’m not a kid anymore. I wanted more than a stolen moment on a blanket. I wanted…damn it, want, more. I want you in my bed. Without the fear of interruption from your mother. That’s why I turned away from you last night, not because I wanted to, but because I wanted more.”

  She sat silently. Her usually expressive face shuttered, revealing nothing of her inner thoughts. Desperation threatened to overwhelm him. Was he too late?

  He’d never put his feelings out there before. Turning her down had almost killed him. She’d unveiled her attraction last night when she glided close to kiss him. His mind filled with an image of her in his apartment, lying across his big brass bed, hair fanned out around her on the pillow.

  She cleared her throat. “I don’t know.” Doubts swirled in her chocolate eyes.

  “If you’re not interested, I’ll leave you alone.” Being needy was something new. His cards were right out there on the table. A tight band crushed his chest as he steeled for the moment when she’d dash them to the floor.

  “I am interested. That’s the problem.” Her mouth curved in a tremulous smile and warm fingers curled around his. “I just don’t see where this is going.”

  His fears dissolved in a hot torrent of relief. “I have no idea either. This is new for me too.” He kissed the compelling temptation of her soft pink mouth. “We are, however, straight on one thing, we both want to find out.”

  Her lips melted under his and parted cautiously. Soft hands crept up his chest and tangled in his hair. The kiss blazed like a forest fire, totally out of control. Before it completely overwhelmed him, he edged away, breathing heavily.

  “I’ll come up to Dublin tomorrow. Keep your evening open, I’m taking you to dinner.”

  “And dessert afterward?” She grinned, her elusive dimple making a rare appearance.

  “Double helpings.” He held up his hand as if swearing he was telling the truth before a judge, and nodded solemnly. Her laughter sparked his answering chuckle. “I’ll walk down from here.” He climbed out of the car with her to pull his duffel bag out of the back. His hands stroked urgent caresses up and down her arms, unable to resist, loving the feel of her soft skin against his palms.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be ready.” She climbed back into the car and reversed out of the parking spot. Her eyes met his for a brief moment in the rear view mirror, and then she gunned the engine, and vanished into the mid-morning traffic.

  Chapter Seven

  A potent aroma assailed his nostrils as he eased the glass door of the car rental shop open. New car smell, blended with the scent of polish. A receptionist perched behind a large gleaming pine desk. Her eyes flickered over his battered deck shoes and faded clothing as he strode toward her. Her mouth quivered in distaste. “Can I help you?”

  He guessed what she was thinking, that in order to have a million dollars, you must look a million dollars. Normally, such a blinkered view irritated. He knew the truth. Those who look a million dollars were usually struggling behind the scenes to scrape together enough cash to cover their rent. Today, her barely concealed expression of horror at having an unshaven sailor in her pri
stine showroom made no dent at all on his mood. Insulated from irritation as he was by the warm glow of his last conversation with his favorite chocolatier.

  “I believe you have a car ready for me,” he explained calmly. “Jack Miller?”

  Her jaw dropped so comically he had to bite on the inside of his lip to stop from smiling. “Jack Miller?” She blinked.

  “That’s me.” He fished in the back pocket of his faded jeans for his driving license. A graphite grey Aston Martin DBS V12 sat in splendid isolation at the front of the showroom. “Is that it?”

  “I’ll call Mr. Murphy.”

  She swiveled on Cuban heels and disappeared. Jack strolled over to the two-door coupe, running a loving hand over the car’s curves. Just like mine, even the same color, Casino Ice.

  A door creaked, and then a balding middle-aged man appeared, hand outstretched. “Mr. Miller. We were expecting you.”

  “Mr. Murphy.” His hand slid off the car’s sleek exterior.

  “I have the keys all ready for you.” Murphy’s grip was damp and limp. The sensation was like holding a dead fish. Jack dropped it as soon as was polite. “Your secretary has organized all the paperwork; it’s ready to drive away.”

  The Aston was perfect for the smooth unblemished streets of New York. Durna had no such streets. The ride was harsh at the best of times over the country roads pitted with potholes. Parked outside the pink house by the sea, the car would be an oddity. He could only imagine the curious looks it would garner from the locals. Annie was sensitive about people gossiping, and the Aston would definitely be a talking point. Such a talking point the entire village would make the pilgrimage.

  “Maybe I won’t take the Aston Martin.”

  Murphy’s eyes widened in shock. His mouth gaped and he looked so dismayed Jack almost relented. Then an image of Annie filled his mind. She would be happier with something less flashy. More practical. What would please Annie was a factor he hadn’t had to consider when he ordered the Aston. Now, it was of major importance. He stuck to his guns.

  “It’s a beautiful car, and I know you’ve gone to great lengths to get it for me. You had to bring it in from your Dublin branch, I believe?”

  “We did.” Murphy crossed his hands over his chest. He still looked upset. As though Jack’s rejection had struck him to the core.

  “Well, I’m more than happy to cover the extra expenses, but I’m going to need a more conventional car.” His gaze settled on a dark blue BMW coupe. “How about the BMW? Is it available?”

  “It is.” Murphy dropped his arms to his sides, recovering quickly from the shock of having his baby rejected.

  “I have a bit of shopping to do, so I’ll fill in all the paperwork now, and then come and collect it when I’ve finished.”

  “Right.”

  Jack dropped into a local café for a cappuccino and a huge pain au chocolate, dunking it like a kid. He still had a rake of things to do. A flood in the cabin had destroyed his work suit. Tomorrow was Judgment Day. The day he’d finally meet his grandmother. Although bruised inside by her lack of interest, there was no way he would show it. Her neglect hadn’t damaged him. His hands clenched around the cup, and he drained it rapidly. He was a success. He just needed to look the part.

  A pretty waitress sidled over to clear the table.

  “Hi.”

  At his greeting, her face flushed red, matching her hair.

  “I need to find a man’s shop, somewhere I can get a good suit. And a barber. Is there anywhere around here?”

  “Magill’s is just around the corner,” she answered huskily. “You should be able to get whatever you’re looking for in there. And the barber is a few shops down.” She smiled, flirting. Jack was well aware of his effect on women. Hell, he’d had them falling at his feet for years. None had cracked his veneer. Except Annie. One kiss from her, and he’d shattered.

  An hour later, he was at the barber. He had a charcoal grey suit, shoes and all the trimmings in a bag with some new sailing clothes. In the shop he’d changed into new black jeans, a black shirt, and a brown leather jacket with black boots. He’d abandoned his old, worn clothes and shoes. They’d served their purpose.

  After a wet shave, he pushed back a lock of hair that dipped into his eyes. His surfer look was at odds with his smooth jaw and his new wardrobe.

  The barber stood with scissors poised. “Now, what will we do with this hair?”

  “Take it all off.” Jack slouched confidently in the chair as the barber set to work. Watching with satisfaction as Jack Miller, millionaire and advertising executive re-emerged.

  A vision of Annie as he’d last seen her flooded his thoughts. She didn’t know how lucky she was to have a family who cared about her, a place to belong. She was loved and needed. A vital part of the intricate puzzle that formed a family. He’d been part of a family once. Long ago, before his parents were stolen away in the car crash. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until her family had embraced him as one of their own.

  Meeting Mary Byrne would be hard. He didn’t want to prejudge her, but couldn’t help it. She was his blood. But she was also the woman who could have given him a home, and instead had left him to take his chances.

  Outside the barbers, there were visions of love everywhere. Couples sat on the grass with arms around each other and lay entwined in the rare Irish summer sunshine. He ached to lie there with arms full of Annie. To bury his face in the fragrant cloud of her hair, and trail his lips over her soft neck. He glanced at his watch and cut through the laneway toward the car dealership. He would have to get a move on if he was going to get back to Durna in time for five.

  ****

  Jack fished the black book and Annie’s camera from the rucksack, and ambled into the pub. In the early evening’s warmth people lounged outside, gazing at the azure sea. Many of them greeted him by name.

  “Like the haircut,” Niall said from behind the bar. “You look different.”

  “I’ve a business meeting in Dublin tomorrow. I thought I better brush up a bit. Annie’s in Dublin today, so I’m in charge.” He tapped the book. “For what it’s worth.”

  “A couple of girls came in earlier. I told them the matchmaker would be in at five. You only have a couple of minutes. Can I get you something?” Niall wiped the counter with a beer towel, flicked out new beer mats like a croupier dealing cards.

  Jack nodded. “A coffee, please, Niall. I think I better keep my wits about me.”

  “Good idea.” He glanced toward the door.

  “Oh, here we go. You’re on.” A couple of young women lingered in the doorway, then linked arms and approached nervously. They looked as terrified as Jack felt. When they reached him, they stopped and looked him up and down.

  Niall gifted them with his best, friendly bartender smile. “Welcome back, ladies. This is Jack. He’s standing in for our regular matchmaker, Annie Devine for tonight.”

  “Hi.” It was like being on a very uncomfortable blind date. Doubled. Way worse than facing into a wall of water in the middle of the ocean. His shoulders tightened and he concentrated on loosening them. He could do this. Annie was counting on him to do her job for her, and he was damned if he would let her down. Sweat prickled on his brow. He plastered a smile on his face, and prayed for Niall to help him out.

  The tall redhead put him out of his misery. “I’m Sinead,” she announced. “And this is Carol.”

  “What’ll you have ladies?” Niall took their orders, and then gave Jack a surreptitious wink, as though he knew full well the agony Jack was suffering. “I’ll bring them over.”

  Feeling as though he’d received a reprieve from execution, Jack pulled in a deep breath and dived in. “Come on over.”

  They followed him to the matchmaker’s booth, where he set the book and camera down on the table. He shrugged off his jacket, and slung it over the back of his chair. The girls sat down opposite him. He swallowed, forcing down an unaccustomed flutter of butterflies.

&
nbsp; “So, you’re American?” Sinead eyed him suspiciously, as if he hailed from another planet, rather than another country.

  “Yes, I’m a friend of Annie’s. She asked me to help out.” He plastered on his most reassuring and capable expression. “Annie’s father is the regular matchmaker, and he’ll be here tomorrow. I’m helping out for today. The process is pretty straightforward, let me take you through it.”

  Drinks flowed, and after a while, both girls let down their guard and honestly revealed what they were hoping for in a partner. Jack concentrated on the job at hand carefully writing down details. He even relaxed enough to get the shyer Carol talking. When he coaxed a smile from her, he felt like he’d climbed Everest and stood, triumphant, at the summit.

  “I’d really like to go on a date with someone good looking and fun, like you,” Sinead teased. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Jack’s Annie’s boyfriend,” Niall threw over his shoulder as he passed on his way back behind the bar. “He’s taken.”

  Jack nodded. “I have plenty of wonderful men in here.” He gripped the book tightly, as if to keep them from escaping. “I’m pretty sure I can sort you both out. Let’s go outside and I’ll take your pictures in the sun.”

  The bright sunshine was a shock after the dimness of the bar. He busied himself taking photographs of the smiling women, while his mind raced.

  When Niall had declared he was taken, a peal of satisfaction reverberated to his core. In his other relationships, he’d always remained one step emotionally removed. Even when he thought he was in love, he held a part of himself back, unwilling to trust. He’d never craved belonging before, but with Annie it was different. His lungs expanded with clear sea air. Niall was right. He was taken.

  ****

  Annie straightened and tossed the empty piping bag into the bin. She stretched her arms up and rotated tired shoulders. Her spine cracked, and she sighed aloud. Only two more to go, then I’m finished. A pristine white box awaiting her chocolates was on the counter. She shook her hands out, flexing cramped fingers. The silence in the kitchen set her nerves on edge. She flicked on the radio and tension flowed out of her body like water as classical music swelled in the empty room.

 

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