“Okay,” he says, his eyes twinkling. He stands, takes my hand and helps me to my feet, then without warning, he scoops me up into his arms. I love how masterful he is, for all my teasing. He growls as he buries his face in my neck and it makes me giggle. He carries me down to his bedroom, stopping just outside the door. He looks down at me and says, “Just promise me you’re not going to say ‘I am woman’ every time you’re right about something, or I swear, I’m going to handcuff you to that bed and leave you there.”
“Ooh, kinky!” I say, widening my eyes and putting a finger to my lips. “Sounds fun, but you won’t be able to stay away from me for too long, I guarantee that,” I add, wiggling my eyebrows. “Now, hush and take me like I’m yours.”
Chapter Seven
Kayla
We spent the whole night, and most of the next morning kissing, cuddling and caressing. He was so caring and tender. He made love to me like no other man has, bringing me to an orgasm, over and over. With my emotions in overdrive, I know I’m falling for him. Hard. I feel safe and warm in his arms…and so wanted.
It’s Friday, and we finally get out of bed at just after noon. He makes us tea and toast, then showers while I watch some mind-numbing daytime TV in the lounge. When he emerges from his room, dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a light blue sweater, I grin and raise my eyebrows. He looks so amazingly sexy. He leans down and kisses me, the intoxicating, heady scent of his cologne filling my nostrils. I sigh, and shiver when he runs his fingers along my bare thighs. Could this get any better?
Then, suddenly, I remember what I’m running from back in the States, and he picks up on it immediately.
“That’s the most dramatic change in mood I think I’ve ever seen,” he comments, studying me closely. “You were smiling one minute and on the verge of tears the next.”
“Reality sinking in, I guess,” I mumble.
“Want to elaborate?” he asks, sliding onto the couch next to me. He lifts my legs over him and massages my feet.
“My flight back to L.A. is on Sunday,” I say, with a sad smile.
“Then we have two more days. Let’s not think about you leaving for now,” he suggests, and I smile, despite how down I’m feeling.
“Oh, and how do you suggest we do that?” I tease.
“How about I just show you?” he murmurs. “Much easier than trying to explain.” I thought he’d carry me off to the bedroom again, though I’m not sure my body could take any more. He surprises me by tickling my feet, making me laugh and wriggle, trying to get away. It isn’t exactly what I had in mind.
“God, stop! Please stop!” I gasp, struggling to breathe.
He laughs, then resumes giving me a foot rub. “So, did that work, or what?”
I have to admit, it did.
* * *
We spend the rest of the afternoon at his house. In fact, we barely leave the sofa after I’d showered and thrown my crumpled dress back on from the night before. I lay in his arms, listening to him tell me about what it was like living in London. Then out of nowhere, I start feeling overwhelmed again of what’s waiting for me back in the States. He’d managed to distract me before, but I know I can’t avoid it forever.
It’s hard to believe I’m leaving on Sunday.
It made me feel wonderful when he said it had always been me, but we haven’t really talked about what we have at all. It could just be a fling, or is he, like me, hoping this will actually go somewhere? Then again, what’s the point if we’re going to be so far away from each other? Unless I stay. I’m just so undecided and still haven’t worked out what I’m going to do.
“Hey,” he says. “Did you hear me?”
I smile at him and shake my head. “Sorry. Off in my own little world again,” I mumble.
“Thinking about going back to L.A?” he asks, gently.
I nod. “How much I don’t want to, to be more specific. When I arrived in Ireland, the way I felt, I had no intention of going back there.”
“And now?” he asks, concern on his face.
“Well, for one, I hate letting people push me around or get the better of me, you know?” I admit. “Maybe that’s why I’m in two minds about it. Maybe my pride, and showing them I can’t be put down, is more of a reason to go back.”
“You certainly are a firecracker, that’s for sure,” he says, teasing me. I blush and smile at his comment.
“I just don’t know what to do, Conor. I mean, I absolutely love my course. Fashion is what I want to do, and I’ve worked so hard already; I really want to finish it. But as much as I want to prove to those arses that I’m better than them, the idea of going back there makes me feel sick. I don’t know,” I say with a shudder.
He nods, like he’s deep in thought. “What about another solution?” he suggests.
“Like what?” I ask, frowning at him.
“Continue your studies somewhere closer? Maybe, London? There’s a huge fashion industry there, so I’d imagine the fashion colleges would be top notch too. Maybe they’d accept all the coursework you’ve done in L.A., so you wouldn’t have to start all over again?”
“London?” I repeat.
“Yeah, why not? It’s close enough to Ireland, and the flights are cheap, so you can still see your family and Siobhan whenever you want, but far enough away from home to keep your independence.” He pauses and glances at me. “It’s also handy if, you know, you were seeing some hot Irish boy.”
“Well, that would be grand, if I only knew any,” I say, smiling. I can’t resist teasing more; looking thoughtful and placing a finger on my lips I add, “But why would I bother with an Irish boy when hot Englishmen are right on my doorstep?” I try to hold it in but laugh when I catch his crestfallen expression and fake pout. “I’m joking! Of course, I’m joking,” I murmur, kissing him roughly on the mouth.
“That was really mean,” he says, pretending I’d put a knife in his heart. I smile at him, and we kiss again. Thinking about his suggestion, it’s not the worst idea I’ve heard. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I’m excited and want to explore it. I leap off the sofa and grab my purse, rummaging inside for my phone. Conor looks at me, shocked at my sudden burst of energy.
“And there I was, thinking I might be getting lucky over here for a minute,” he protests.
“I’m here with you now. Isn’t that lucky enough?” I giggle. “And you’ve had plenty of ‘luck’ already, so you have. My poor pussy needs a rest from all the pounding it’s had,” I add, and we both burst out laughing.
“You are one sweet, crazy woman,” he says, shaking his head.
“Aww, that’s so sweet. I’ll take that as a compliment. I just want to check out any courses available in London,” I say, curling up next to him with my phone in my hand. I snuggle against him and hit Google. “Strike while the iron’s hot, so to speak.” He chuckles then kisses my forehead, making me feel warm and secure in his arms.
“Maybe I should’ve thought this through and suggested it after I’d had my wicked way with you,” he teases. I glower at him, and he just smiles back. “Now, I’m joking. I promise.”
“Any chance of you getting lucky ever again, reduces each time you open your mouth,” I retort, smiling and raising my eyebrows at him. I kiss him, then go back to my research. The more I read, the more excited I get about this being a great idea. This might just work. I shoot off a couple of emails, then put my phone down and turn my attention back to Conor.
“Now,” I grin. “Where were we?”
* * *
It’s late when he drops me off at home. All the lights are off, and I make the mistake of assuming it’s safe for me to go in. The moment I’m through the door, the light switches on in the living room and I see Mum sitting there on the couch.
I frown at her. “What? You were waiting for me in the dark?” I ask her. “How long have you been sitting there?”
“Can we talk a minute?” she asks. Now I’m anxious. What the hell does she want to talk about
at this late hour? I sigh, walk across the room and sit next to her on the couch. She turns to face me. “What’s going on with you, Kayla? I’m so worried about you,” she says.
“You’re never worried about me,” I mutter. “You’re just looking for another opportunity to tell me you were right.”
“When have I ever done that to you?” she asks. “You make out that I have some sort of vendetta against you—”
“Are you denying that you think I’m the big disappointment in this family?” I ask, tears welling as I turn to glare at her. “Lisa is the perfect one. I get it. Just excuse me if I don’t want to sit here and listen to you list the million ways I’ve let you and Dad down over the years.”
“I’d never think that, let alone say it,” Mum whispers, shaking her head in apparent disbelief. “Is that how you really feel?”
I shrug. “It’s how I’ve always felt,” I mumble.
“We push you, because we want what’s best for you, but first and foremost? We just want you to be happy. We love you, Kayla.” She stops for a moment, a wistful smile on her face. “The only time I’ve ever wanted you to fail at something was when you left home and moved over to America. I’m a horrible person, I know, but you were so far away, and I really missed your smiling face.”
“Smiling?” I frown at her. “I’ve never heard you describe my face as smiling,” I retort.
“I say a lot of good things about you that I don’t think you realize. You think I favor Lisa because you hear the way I talk about her. What you don’t hear is the way I talk about you.” She leans into me and wraps her arms around me, kissing me on the cheek, but I don’t reciprocate. “I really am so proud of you, Kayla. Every single day. You’re such an amazing young woman, and you’ve achieved so much. You have to know that all I ever want is for you to be happy.”
“I’m sorry, Mum,” I whisper, then throw my arms around her neck and hug her tight, my tears rolling freely down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry if I pushed you away. I just thought that’s what you wanted.”
“Never,” Mum whispers. She pulls away and holds my head in her hands, staring into my eyes. “I want to share every little part of your life if you’ll let me.” She smiles, her eyes shining. “You can start by telling me about this boy, if you want?” she says with a laugh.
I bite my lip and laugh with her, because where do I even start?
Chapter Eight
Kayla
I’m up early, getting ready for the wedding of the year, while Mum and Lisa keep me company. I smile at Mum, because it feels so good to reconnect with her, as a mother and daughter should. I just hope it lasts. I haven’t told her about what went on back in L.A. Not because I think she won’t understand, but because I don’t want her to worry. It’s way too embarrassing, anyway. There are some things a daughter can keep from her mum, and this is one of them. I want to handle this on my own.
Conor should have been back on duty, but he’s taken a day’s holiday to spend it with me, and at just before one, he picks me up. He smiles at me when I open the door.
“Holy Mary! You look beautiful,” he says, his gaze roaming over every inch of me.
I glance down at my dusky pink, lace dress and smile. “Thanks,” I say. I feel a shiver as I look him over. He looks every bit as gorgeous as I imagined he would in his morning suit. “You’ve scrubbed up pretty well yourself,” I tease.
“Thanks,” he chuckles, doffing his top hat at me. He takes my hand, running his fingers gently over mine. “Shall we go?” he asks softly.
I nod, turning to kiss Mum and Lisa goodbye, then I follow him out to his car where he opens my door and I carefully climb inside.
“Deep in thought again?” he asks as we head down the road for the short drive to the wedding venue.
I glance over at him and smile. I guess I was. In the back of my mind, I’m nervous as hell about those arses from the barbecue the other night. Will they be at the wedding, too, and say something else to me? I’m not worried for myself, but I’d hate to be the cause of a scene that spoiled Rory and Amelia’s big day.
“It’s just that crowds of people aren’t something I enjoy so much anymore,” I admit as we pull up into the gravel car park outside the stunning Drimnagh Castle where the ceremony’s being held.
“You’re worried about those fucking eejits from the other day?” he says, frowning.
I shrug. “Not just them, but they certainly didn’t help. I’d be mortified if they’re there and they kick off again. I don’t want anything to ruin Rory and Amelia’s wedding.”
“Look around,” he says as he brings the car to a stop. “There are so many people here, I doubt they’d even notice you if they were here. And if they’re stupid enough to start something, then they’ll have to answer to me,” he says, beating his chest like a gorilla. I giggle, not sure if that’s a solution or not.
Conor opens my door then takes my hand and leads me up the path to the castle. We walk through beautiful rose gardens and the heady scent improves my mood instantly. It’s impossible to be here, breathing in the fresh air, and not feel happy to be alive.
As it turns out, I needn’t have worried. Conor’s right. There are so many people at this wedding that before long, I completely forget about the embarrassing incident at the barbecue.
We walk inside the castle and take our seats. I turn and wave at Siobhan. She’s making her way to the back of the room and out the door with Ava in her arms. Rory stands nervously at the front. Ben is by his side cracking jokes and trying to keep him calm. They both look so handsome, but neither of them come close to looking as cute as my Conor does in his pinstripe suit. I glance at him, wondering why I had such a crush on Rory when I have this lovely, sweet man by my side. A feeling of love and warmth rushes through my veins. He smiles back at me and takes my hand, squeezing it tightly.
Before long, the room is full of people anxiously waiting for the ceremony to begin. Finally, the music begins to play. I turn my head, along with everyone else in the room, to the door and wait in anticipation for Amelia to appear.
After what feels like forever, Clare comes through the door, followed by Siobhan holding a squirming Ava and a posy of red roses. Finally, a blushing Amelia finally comes into view. She walks down the aisle toward Rory, and everyone smiles. Amelia looks beautiful in her off-white lace gown.
As she looks straight ahead, her terrified expression relaxes instantly when her eyes lock on Rory’s beaming face. He smiles at her, the love he feels for her so obvious to every single person in the room. When she reaches him, she stumbles into his arms, causing a ripple of laughter among the crowd.
Witnessing the two of them confirm their love for one another is so special. As they kiss, I look up at Conor and smile. He smiles back at me, and my heart races. I’m not sure if it’s the wedding that’s making me feel so emotional, but I’m feeling very lucky right now.
After the ceremony, we head outside for the wedding photos in the immaculately-kept gardens. The imposing castle provides the perfect backdrop, then we all go back inside for a casual cocktail reception.
In between dancing, drinking and eating way too many canapés, we listen to some hilarious speeches from Ben, Amelia’s father, and finally, Rory. After he finishes his speech, Rory picks up a guitar from behind his chair, and serenades Amelia. We all have tears in our eyes as he sings her the song he wrote just for her on this special day.
By the end of it, I’m an emotional wreck and I’m struggling not to burst into sobs. Conor excuses himself to go to the bathroom, so I take the opportunity to go outside to get some fresh air. I escape onto the balcony and stare out over the view, just as dusk begins to settle. I’m feeling bittersweet because I’m still not sure where I stand, or where my life is going. Every time I think I have it worked out, things change. I’m startled when I turn around to see Conor standing behind me.
“You disappeared on me,” he says.
I smile. “Sorry, I saw no one was out here, so I just
came out for a moment to get some fresh air,” I mumble. He puts his arms around me and we both gaze over the landscape, lost in our own thoughts. He leans down and kisses my neck, not pressuring me to talk to him at all. I turn to face him and press my lips against his.
“You sure you’re okay?” is all he asks. I nod and force a smile just as Siobhan pops her head out of the door.
“There you are!” she exclaims. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Oh, hi Siobhan,” I say. “We just stepped outside to enjoy the beautiful setting.” Smiling, she walks over to us, and I glance up at Conor.
He gets the message, and says, “Um, I’m sure you two ladies would like to catch up, so I’m just going to see what the craic is with the guys for a while. I’ll see you in a bit.” He kisses me on the cheek and heads toward the door, leaving me alone with Siobhan.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” I ask her.
She nods, her expression serious. “Of course, you can. What’s going on with you?” she asks. “And don’t try and tell me nothing. I know you better than that.”
I take her hand, to lead her away from the door and across the huge stone balcony. We take a seat on a bench, then she listens, wide-eyed, as I pour out the whole sad story of what happened to me back in the States.
“And, that’s why I was so keen to come back,” I mumble.
Siobhan just sits there, clearly shocked by my revelation. “I’m so sorry, Kales. I hate that you felt you couldn’t tell me all of this before,” she whispers, tears filling her eyes.
“I’m touched, but don’t cry,” I say, reaching out for her hand. “You were going through so much with this wedding, I didn’t want to put any more stress on you. This is my problem to deal with.”
“Then, I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through it alone. Is there anything I can do to help you now?” she whispers.
Irish Affair Page 27
