Foolish Temptations

by Danielle Stewart

  “Oh, you should have told me.” Kenan tipped his head back as though it all made sense now. “He’s blind. He’s deaf. He doesn’t have all his wits about him. Then I won’t kick him out. I’ll pity him.”

  Maribel nodded and smiled. Kenan was a smart guy. One she’d need to keep an eye on. He might talk her right out of her clothes if she wasn’t careful.

  Chapter 7

  Aden

  * * *

  Aden felt torn between the obligation of work and the desire to stay with Maribel. She was no wilting flower. She could take care of herself. But if he’d really broken her heart, maybe he’d left her vulnerable to this Kenan guy and what must be going through his mind. It sent a wave of jealous rage rolling up Aden’s back.

  But he had a job to do.

  “Hey buddy, can I ask you a question?” Aden had learned early on the amount of information a bartender was given freely every day. Back when he was slinging beers he knew more secrets than he cared to. More sob stories. More gossip. The local pub back home was the heart of the town. He’d asked around Gallamare and found the one here that seemed to pull in the most locals.

  “Go on.” The skinny bartender with a unibrow waved for him to fire away with his question. He was an old man with stooped shoulders and tar-stained fingers. The way he moved behind the bar told Aden he’d been doing this most of his life. Perfect. The hard part was the accents were getting tougher to distinguish the farther from town he got.

  “I’m sure the last name O’Malley is pretty big around these parts.”

  “Christ sake, you another one of those people trying to track your ancestry? You got the red hair. You like potatoes? Good enough. Why do you need to know what dot on the map you’re from?”

  “No man.” Aden shook his head. “My people track back to Cork. I’m trying to find some other people. I figured you must know everyone.”

  “I do.” Skepticism spread across the man’s face like weeds in an unkempt garden.

  “I have some names. Would you point me in the right direction? Discretely.” Aden flashed a hundred-dollar bill at the bartender and knew exactly how dangerous of a game he was playing. In his old job he was bribed plenty. He didn’t give a damn about most of his customers personally, and he needed cash, so if he thought it wouldn’t get anyone in serious trouble he traded information like currency. But if someone came in asking about one of his buddies he’d give out some fake-ass story and pocket the cash. His first call would be to his buddy tipping him off.

  The bartender tipped his chin up ever so slightly, indicating he was listening. Aden slid the money over. “I’m looking for some O’Malleys that lived here in Gallamare fifty years ago. The best name I have is the grandmother. I’m sure she’s not living now. Dara O’Malley. Not sure of her maiden name, but she was married to a man named Cole.”

  The bartender snapped his tongue over his teeth and laughed. “You wanna know if I know Dara and Cole O’Malley. Kid, you serious?”

  “I’m guessing they’re no strangers to the town?”

  “You need to do your research.” He shook his towel at Aden as if dismissing him, but the money had been exchanged. He wanted some info.

  “I am doing my research. I’m starting with you. Tell me.”

  The man rolled his eyes. “Cole O’Malley was a miserable son of a bitch. Beat his wife. Beat his kids. Beat his dogs. Dara shot him dead. Told the police he was attacking her. Everyone knew how much of a bastard he was. There wasn’t even a trial. I’m surprised there wasn’t a celebration.”

  “When was that?”

  “I dunno. I was like fifteen or something. So maybe fifty years ago?”

  “You know her kids?”

  “Yeah.” There was a shift in his posture that spoke volumes. “Which one?” The answer to this question clearly mattered.

  “Ian.”

  He’d chosen wrong.

  “That fecking arse.” The bartender pretended to spit into the air. “Don’t go round this town asking about him. That’s the only warning I’ll give you.”

  “What about the siblings, they still live here? He had two sisters?”

  “I gave you the only warning you’ll get. Don’t ask about him or his kin. Don’t dredge up the past. Ian is a blemish on Gallamare.”

  “It’s not about him.”

  The men hit a stalemate. Neither one looked willing to give any more information. Aden plucked money from his pocket to pay for his beer and pushed himself back from the counter. The art of fact finding wasn’t just about digging. You had to know when to walk away. Turn the heat down on the pot before it boiled over.

  Without another word Aden headed out of the pub and back onto the winding hilly road. He’d walked the two miles out to the pub because he wanted the fresh air and beautiful scenery. Now on his way back, with his mind swirling with questions, he wished he’d have gotten a lift.

  After a few steep hills, Aden could hear the sound of tires crawling over the gravel road and the roar of an older engine.

  When the black car with rust patches pulled up next to him, he stayed guarded as he peered in the window.

  “You the one asking about Ian O’Malley?” An old man with wispy white hair sprouting from his ears and brows leaned out the window to get a better look at Aden. His head was so bald and shiny it nearly made Aden laugh.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m just trying to talk to some of his family.”

  “Then start talking.”

  “You’re a relative?”

  “Dara was my sister. Ian my nephew. You know where he is?”

  The simple thing to do would be to tell him his nephew had died of heart complications. But Aden was still playing his cards close to his chest. The reaction from the bartender had been a strong one.

  “I’m Dillion.” The man patted the seat next to him and Aden considered what a ride with this stranger might mean. It could lead him anywhere. Right to the truth he was hoping to find.

  “I’m Aden.” He opened the car door and sat, waiting to hear more. Instead Dillion put the clunky car in drive, and they bumped their way down the road, turning before they hit town.

  “Where we headed?” Aden wasn’t worried the frail old man would do him any harm but he could certainly be leading him toward people who intended to. He’d struck a nerve at the pub, and in a small place like Gallamare that could mean trouble.

  “To see the family.” Dillion didn’t say anything else until he pulled his car to a stop at the bottom of a steep hill. “You might need to help me get up there. My legs aren’t what they used to be.”

  Aden nodded and as gingerly as possible helped move the boney man up the hill until they reached the top. There stood a small plot of stones. Simple. Covered in green splotches of moss and overgrown by weeds.

  “This is the family.” Dillion waved his arm too quickly and lost his balance. There was a faint smell of alcohol on his breath and his knees wobbled. Aden thrust out an arm to steady him.

  “They’re all dead?”

  “The O’Malley Klan is not a lucky one. Heart issues mostly. Either born that way or they live such a way that breaks them. You believe you can die from a broken heart?” His watery gray eyes blinked expectantly at Aden but he couldn’t answer. For Maribel’s sake he hoped that wasn’t the case.

  “So then why would the guy in the pub be so worked up about me asking about Ian? If there are no ties left here?”

  “Old ghosts. Wouldn’t be wise to keep asking. Wouldn’t be kind to these souls.”

  “If there’s no family here, I don’t really need to keep asking around. I was just tracking some information down. Looks like I have my answer right here.”

  “Good, lad. Then help an old man down the hill and back to his car. I’ll give you a lift to the hotel.”

  Dillion brushed some dust off one of the headstones and blew a kiss over at another. He was trying to hand Aden a bow to tie this mystery in and put it away. Finish i
t. But there had to be more. No one reacts like the bartender in that pub unless there’s more to the story. Why did Ian take off to the US. alone when he was a teenager? Why hadn’t he ever returned?

  “So your sister, she died of a broken heart?” Aden watched the old man’s face for a reaction.

  “Ya. She had a monster of a husband and she put him in his grave. Lost her son to the devil. Buried her two daughters and told them to get her stone ready too. She knew she didn’t have anything left once they were gone.”

  “And you?”

  “Me, I’m alive.”

  “Obviously,” Aden laughed. “I mean you’ve lost a lot of your family. That must be difficult. Do you have any other people you’re related to?”

  Dillion answered with a shrug. Something was telling Aden the man wasn’t a liar. So a lack of an answer would speak volumes. There were more people to find. More questions to answer. And he would. But first, he’d take a knee and clear the weeds from the stones. Then he’d help an old man down the hill and back into his car. Because if he was going to unsettle the ghosts of the past this seemed like the least he could do.

  Chapter 8

  Maribel

  * * *

  It was just a flash at the corner of her eye, but Maribel was almost certain Aden had just driven by in a car with an old man as a passenger. She wondered how he had swooped in and made friends already, but here she was sitting on a bench under a beautiful terrace tasting tiny little foods. Life could move as fast as you let it or as slow as you beg it to. It was more about moments. A broken heart—you speed it up. Falling in love—you slow it down.

  “This you’ll love.” Kenan extended a forkful of something bright red and sweet smelling. “It’s a raspberry compote I make from Aunt Aileen’s recipe book.”

  He was right. The flavor exploded on her taste buds and she moaned with pleasure. “You are amazing. I mean, this is amazing.”

  “We’re just getting started.”

  “I need to get back to my room. Jet lag.” Maribel yawned and stretched. “Thank you so much for showing me the grounds and letting me sample this amazing food. I’m sure the bride and groom will love it tomorrow.”

  “Crash the wedding. I’ll be working, but you can get a real idea of how we do things here.”

  “I’m too much of a chicken. I’m the worst liar. People would spot me right away and toss me out. Then I’d die of embarrassment.” She tucked her hair nervously behind her ears and tried to see where Aden had gone. Was he already in his room? Waiting for her again in the lobby?

  “That’s cute.” Kenan gave a playful smirk. “You’re a nice girl. That guy Aden, he’s an arse.”

  “Yeah,” Maribel sighed, wishing she wasn’t preoccupied with where that arse was right this minute. “Thank you again.”

  Kenan leaned down and kissed her cheek gently, lingering for a moment. Long enough to give her a chance to turn her head and make that friendly kiss something more. An opportunity that quickly turned into a missed one.

  “Come by the wedding tomorrow. You can be my guest. I really want you to see this place during a special event. Your friend will love it.”

  Maribel nodded and spun away, dipping her head low as she walked back toward the quaint lobby of the beautiful hotel. The nicest she’d ever stayed in by far. But entering without finding Aden would make it a letdown. A pale boring place like any other she’d been in.

  “Hey,” Aden called, waving her over to a quiet nook in the corner of the lobby with two oversized chairs, a book shelf, and a table with a tea set on it.

  “Hey,” she replied softly. “I’m sorry about earlier. I’m not usually so dramatic. I’m good now.”

  “I’m sorry too. Hanging out with you has been awesome, and I guess it freaked me out to think we weren’t going to anymore.”

  Maribel wanted to burst out with a list of questions. What the hell does that mean? You like me? We have chemistry? You want this? Or I’m a buddy you don’t want to lose because we get on well? Instead she just pushed past it. “Did I just see you driving some old guy’s car?”

  Aden laughed as he poured her some tea. Two sugars just the way she liked it. He handed it to her and flashed that dimple she now hated. It was easier to switch from affection to hate, rather than try to find something balanced in between.

  “An old man named Dillion. He’d be Junie’s great uncle.”

  “Oh good, you found them already? This is great because I’m telling you this venue is perfect. Kenan gave me some samples of the food, and we walked the grounds. With the tie to her family, this place will make for the most amazing wedding.”

  “Not so fast.” Aden furrowed his brows and lowered his voice. “You can’t have the wedding here. We need to rent a car and check out other options this week. Something up north, something farther away.”

  “Boy, my time with Kenan really bugged you, huh? You’re one of those guys who doesn’t want a toy unless someone else is playing with it? Very mature.” There was a spark of something trying to burst to life in her, some kind of relief about his reaction, but she snuffed it out quickly.

  “That’s not it.” He leaned back in the large chair and looked up at the ceiling. “Everyone else in the O’Malley family is dead. Her grandmother. Her two aunts. When I started asking around apparently her father, Ian, has a past. Something that’s made for tension here. I got the impression he wouldn’t be welcomed back.”

  “That’s an easy fix since he’s dead. That shouldn’t keep Junie from being able to see the place her father was born, walk where he walked. Whatever kind of drama you think you found here, it can’t be right. Every story Junie tells about her father is a glowing endorsement of his hard work and how much he loved his family.”

  “When we care about someone we can see them in a better light than they deserve.” The advice was meant for her as much as to make his point. She knew he was trying to say she’d romanticized the idea of Aden and made him much more than he really was. “Trust me, this is not the place to have her wedding.”

  “Oh that’s right, I forgot you cut and run when things get challenging.” It was a low blow, one she’d said in her head multiple times but never imagined she’d truly hurl at him.

  He shot to his feet and cleared his throat. “I get that you need a punching bag for a while, and I’ve come by that job honestly. Totally fine. I fucked up, and I don’t have the right words or whatever to explain it to you. But I don’t cut and run from a challenge. Trust me, I’m the one guy you want beside you when you need something. Because if shit ever really goes bad, an army of men can’t keep me from getting to you. I’m the guy you want around.”

  “Sorry,” she whispered into her cup of tea. “I heard the story of the night you and Hugo met. I know what you did for him, hopped up and had his back in that bar fight. I took a cheap shot. I didn’t mean it.”

  “So we can leave tomorrow?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because just like you, I’m pretty good to have around. Junie trusts me. I want her to have the wedding she’s always imagined. I know if it can be here, it’ll be something she’ll treasure the rest of her life.” Maribel was a hopeless romantic. She knew it brought her more problems than solutions most days but it was, deep in her soul, something she couldn’t shake and wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  “I guess we can give it a couple more days.” Aden ran his hand over his hair and looked at her with unease. “I’ll dig around, but if things get heated, we’re out of here. I’m telling you towns this small with big secrets don’t take kindly to outsiders coming in and kicking the hornets’ nest. We could end up with a lot of heat on us.”

  “I’m not worried.” Maribel leaned back in her chair and smiled behind her tea cup. “I’m with the guy who would never let anything happen to me.”

  Aden’s shoulders relaxed, and he gave her an intense look. “No matter what.”

  Chapter 9

  Aden

&nbs
p; The pub wasn’t welcoming enough to go back to in order to fish around for more information on Junie’s dad and what might have happened before he left Ireland. Dillion didn’t seem interested in sharing any more than he already had. Aden needed a new strategy and a partner in crime.

  Normally he was happy to work alone. But since starting at West Oil and being paired up with Maribel, he found it hard to imagine doing anything without her. She made the hours fly by. The endless tasks felt manageable. She was sharp. Bright as hell. Funny. Now he just needed her to be forgiving.

  He’d given her space last night, and it nearly killed him. Being a room away from her, separated by only a wall, made his desire for her nearly unbearable. Would she open the door if he knocked? Would she let him in? It didn’t matter. That day in the back of the cab she’d bared her soul, offered up every part of herself. Even if he wanted her desperately, history had proven he wasn’t the kind of man who would ever be enough for her. And she deserved more than a knock on her hotel door in the middle of the night.

  But it was morning now, and he needed her.

  “Hang on,” Maribel called from the other side of her hotel door. “Coming.”

  When the door swung open, Aden thought he was in the wrong place. Maribel had her long dark hair styled in lush waves and pinned up at her temples with sweet little white flowers. Peach gloss, long dramatic lashes and pink cheeks gave her the look of an angel. Her off-the-shoulder lace dress was pale blue and form-fitting. She was pushing an earring in as she breathlessly answered the door. “Oh, Aden. What’s up?”

  “You look gorgeous,” Aden stuttered, any other thought escaping his brain like a sandcastle swept away by the rising tide.

  “Thanks.” She pushed her long hair off her shoulder and bent to slide her foot into her high heel. The scooped neck of her dress slipped down and his eyes drank in the peek he was able to glimpse. “You need something?”