by Ashlyn Chase
“Okay,” he said as if he’d won a key battle. “Where to?”
“Marlborough Street,” she said, feeling cagey.
“Ah, that’s probably the prettiest street in Back Bay. Very little traffic, because it doesn’t lead to anything but homes.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Only the residents have any business being there. You can leave me at the corner of Berkley and Marlborough and just keep going onto Storrow Drive.”
He frowned at her.
Oh good. He realized he’d be going the wrong way to turn left onto Marlborough where most of the homes were.
“I don’t take Storrow Drive to get to the South End. I can just shoot down Commonwealth Avenue to Kenmore Square after dropping you at your door. So, what block do you live on? I can always take Dartmouth and come back around.”
Feck. Since her door was on Beacon Street, and he seemed like the type to wait for her to have her key in the lock, she might have to ’fess up to the “mistake.”
She leaned back and let out a deep sigh.
“What?” he asked.
After a brief hesitation she said, “I don’t live on Marlborough Street.”
“Why would you tell me… Oh. I get it. You don’t trust me.” He scowled at the road.
“It’s not that…”
It was exactly that. She didn’t trust anyone who might want to come over. She lived with shapeshifters, vampires, witches, and a ghost. Not to mention the fact that her building housed a club for paranormals, and in the building next door lived another dragon and a minor goddess. It was all they could do to keep random passersby from witnessing any accidental, supernatural funny business.
She had just been planning to ask Morgaine to read her tea leaves.
It didn’t really matter what the witch had to say, however. She knew her own fate. She was to remain alone for the rest of her long life.
Her grandmother had gifted each of her grandchildren with a precious or semiprecious stone upon their births. The stones were said to match their true loves’ eyes. Shannon’s husband Finn had eyes as blue as her sapphire. Rory’s girlfriend was not only someone with amber eyes of the green variety and amber hair of the gold variety. Her name was even feckin’ Amber! Of course, her stubborn brother needed to be hit with a sledgehammer of a hint.
But for Chloe’s diamond, there was no match. No man’s eyes were clear. She’d even tried to decide if her stone could be called a rare blue or brown diamond, but no. Any nuances were pure white. Ryan’s eyes were dark brown, occasionally appearing jet black when he was angry. Like now.
“Look. It’s not that I don’t trust you. You have nothing to do with it. I just value my privacy beyond all else when I’m on my own time. I have the right to privacy, don’t I?”
He didn’t answer. He just kept driving toward the Back Bay. When he finally arrived at the intersection of the alphabetical streets at Arlington and Beacon, he said, “Where to? Or would you like me to close my eyes the rest of the way?”
“Oh, for feck’s sake… Just leave me here.” She needed to walk off some frustration.
* * *
Ryan had to blow off some steam too.
He knew where his brothers went to have a drink and shoot the breeze with their firefighter buddies. With any luck, one of them might be at the bar. It wasn’t in the same part of town, but if anyone wanted to know what he was doing in the area he could always say he was visiting the local college in Charlestown to see if they had a major in fire sciences.
With the Internet and a thousand ways to access the information, it was a weak excuse at best. Hopefully no one would question his being there.
Upon walking in, he scanned the bar. Cool. One of his brothers was having a beer with the guys from his station. When he sensed Ryan, he looked up and waved.
Jayce slipped off his stool and strolled over to him. “Hey, bro. What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a guy stop in for a beer? Or does this place only serve sissies?”
His brother laughed and punched him in the arm hard. “Is that sissy enough for ya?”
He grinned and didn’t rub his arm until Jayce turned around and led the way back to his spot at the bar.
“I heard you started your training. Can I buy you a beer—or are you trying to be healthy?”
The way he said the word “healthy” made Ryan wonder if he’d been spotted at the health food restaurant the other night.
“Nah. I’ll let you buy me a beer anytime.”
Jayce ordered his family’s favorite and introduced him to the other guys. Most of them he’d seen before, although he didn’t remember their names, so reintroductions were helpful. One of them had a yellow streak in his hair. He’d have remembered that guy.
“So, you’re training on Moon Island?” the guy named Drake asked. “I have a friend who’s there now too.”
“Oh? What’s his name?” Ryan asked.
“Not a him. It’s a her. Chloe Arish.”
Ryan groaned before he could catch himself.
“What?” Drake asked. “Isn’t she doing well?”
“It’s not that. She’s doing great. Showing up some of the guys, in fact. Not me, of course.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine any chick topping a Fierro,” one of the other guys said.
Ryan pictured Chloe in the girl-on-top position and his cock twitched. Get a grip, Ryan. She’s not even here.
Drake was talking to someone else, so he leaned in and whispered to his brother.
“There’s something up with that chick.”
“Like what?” Jayce asked.
“She’s scary strong, and she’s from another country. Sometimes when she gets flustered, she sounds like she’s fresh off the boat.”
“Flustered? Oh, that’s not good.”
Drake turned around and said, “Who’s flustered?”
“Oh, nobody,” Ryan said. He didn’t want what he said to get back to her.
“Chloe?” Drake persisted.
“Well, yeah. I was just talking about her accent. I guess she slips into it when she’s nervous. Do you know anything about her background?”
“Yeah. She came here from Ireland a little over a year ago. My wife was one of the first people she met in town.”
Oh, so she’s friends with the firefighters’ wives. That was an angle he hadn’t considered. Women stuck up for each other. Ryan suddenly wondered how many firefighters’ wives she may have met in the past year.
Drake went on to say that she had talked to him at length about joining the fire service. He sounded as if he’d supported her choice from the beginning.
“How well do you know her? I mean, why did you think she’d make a good firefighter?” Ryan took a long swig of his beer.
The other guys were paying attention now.
“Why wouldn’t she?” Drake asked.
“Well, she’s a tiny little thing…”
Drake leaned back and laughed. “Don’t let that fool you. She’s as strong, or stronger, than most guys I know.”
“I can’t wait to meet this chick,” one of the single guys said. Haggarty, Ryan thought his name was. The look in his eyes made the hair on Ryan’s neck prickle. Most guys would drool over her. But most guys didn’t stand a chance with Chloe Arish. That weird protective part of him felt almost proud of her.
Ryan held his tongue and refocused his conversation back to her country of origin. “Do you know what part of Ireland she’s from?”
“Yeah. I think she called the town Ballyhoo. Her brother and sister came here with her, but her sister moved back.”
“Why? She didn’t like the United States?” Jayce asked.
“No. It wasn’t that. She had a boyfriend back in Ireland. I guess he followed her here and convinced her to go back with him.”
�
�Ah. So she still has family there,” Ryan said. “Where is Ballyhoo, exactly?”
Drake shrugged. “Somewhere on the coast, I guess. They said something about taking a fishing boat to Iceland. I guess they spent a few weeks there.”
“Iceland?” He sounded a little too shocked. He needed to keep it casual. “I thought Iceland was supposed to be beautiful. So how did they end up here?”
Drake laughed. “The language really tripped them up. Her brother said something about the eleven-letter words and odd consonants right next to each other. That would intimidate any English speaker.”
“Ah. So why didn’t they just go back to Ireland?”
Drake shrugged. “There was probably a reason they left in the first place, but I don’t know what it was. Anyway, in Iceland they upgraded to a bigger, better boat. They arrived by yacht.”
I’ll be damned. She is fresh off the boat!
Suddenly Drake looked nervous, as if he’d said something he shouldn’t have. “Don’t say anything to her about it though. As an immigrant myself, I know it can be a touchy subject for some of us.”
“Immigrant? I never knew that. Where are you from?” Jayce asked.
“Maritime Canada.”
The guys around him laughed. “Yeah. You’re real foreign,” Jayce said. “If not for the state of Maine, we’d be neighbors.”
Drake toasted to that and finished his beer. He had a wife and new baby to get home to, so he said his good-byes and left.
Ryan let this new knowledge roll around in his brain. A fishing boat? If Chloe liked to fish, they had something in common. The summer would be drawing to a close soon, so perhaps he’d suggest a fishing trip before the weather turned cold.
She can’t storm off into the ocean if I come a little too close to the truth—or to her.
It was a good thing he’d run into Jayce. He shared ownership of their boat. Maybe they could make it a group thing and it would be less weird if more guys were invited. It wouldn’t look like a date, which she’d refuse. But meeting some fellow firefighters might be a temptation she couldn’t pass up.
“Hey, Jayce. What do you say? Want to go fishing this weekend?” he said loud enough for several of his brother’s buddies to hear.
“Yeah, Jayce,” one named Mike said. “We’re off this weekend. Why don’t you go and invite me too?”
Perfect. Meeting guys from the other houses wouldn’t hurt him either. They never knew when a multiple-alarm fire might have them working together.
* * *
Chloe sensed a change in Ryan. He seemed confident—not that arrogant and conceited were different for him, but it was the type of confidence that seemed new. He was more self-assured. Less self-righteous. She found it a lot sexier than his bravado, unfortunately. If the man were any sexier, she might implode.
After that day’s training, he didn’t follow her to the parking lot. Instead he said good-bye to the other guys and then went straight to his Jeep. When he drove off without giving her a backward glance, she wondered why. And why did it matter to her?
Had she finally discouraged him? She should be glad—she hated worrying about letting a guy down easy. Her style was just to say, “See ya,” and go on her way.
Maybe she was getting a taste of her own medicine.
And she didn’t like it.
As she drove home, she reminded herself why it was important not to get involved with him. They’d be working together. She knew any relationship was doomed anyway. Why start something she couldn’t finish?
For the first time in hundreds of years, she cursed her grandmother. “Why the feck did you have to give me a diamond? Yeah, it’s valuable, and maybe you were trying to tell me I’m too valuable to be held down by a bad marriage. But why isn’t there a good one for me? Am I that impossible to live with?”
She ended her rant by realizing she probably was. Her siblings could put up with her because they’d learned how…and they’d had to. Family was an odd thing in Ireland. Brothers thought nothing of beating the tar out of each other, but add anyone with outside blood to the mix and watch how fast the brothers bonded and turned on the interloper—together.
Even marriage didn’t change that. She loved her brother-in-law, Finn, but if he ever raised his voice, never mind his hand, to Shannon, he’d find both Rory and Chloe on him in a pile of fast-flying fists.
Irishmen and Irishwomen understood this on a subconscious level, even if they denied it. Blood—especially Irish blood—was much thicker than water.
Apparently Ryan had a lot of brothers. She wondered if the same held true for him and his siblings. Probably not. From what she’d seen, Americans seemed to weigh the pros and cons of an argument—then express themselves verbally. They rarely started fistfights in the streets. The laws were pretty strict against that here.
She chuckled as she remembered an argument between her apartment managers. She’d never witnessed anything so strange in her life.
They’d seemed to be having a staring contest. The wife had folded her arms and tapped her foot. The husband, with his hands on his hips, had just glared back. It wasn’t until much later that Chloe had learned the two could communicate telepathically and were arguing their points in full view of everyone, with no one hearing a word.
Maybe she’d ask for that tea leaf reading from the wife/witch after all. Something about Ryan just didn’t sit right with her. He wasn’t acting as if he’d given up. He was acting as if he’d won!
Chapter 4
Chloe parked the Zipcar in the Prudential Center’s garage and strode home to her Beacon Street brownstone. She had planned to have dinner with Rory and Amber next door, but she was going to make a quick stop at home to change. If Morgaine had time for a reading, she’d call Amber and ask if dinner could wait a few.
When Chloe unlocked the front door, she was surprised to see Morgaine standing in front of her apartment.
“Is everything all right?”
Morgaine tipped her head. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
Chloe’s brows knit. “Excuse me?”
“My psychic senses were telling me you needed to talk to me. In fact, your unspoken request was so loud it was almost shouting.”
“Oh! I’m sorry. I was indeed thinking I’d like to talk to you. I guess I should think more…quietly?”
Morgaine chuckled. “Not at all. My senses pick up feelings, not volume. I sensed your need for my help might be urgent.”
“Again. I apologize if I accidentally… Feck. You know what? It’s not an emergency, but whenever you’re available…”
Morgaine smiled and held up a small fabric bag printed with stars and moons on a midnight-blue background. “I’m available now.”
Chloe felt a sense of relief wash over her as she unlocked apartment 2B and welcomed Morgaine inside.
Morgaine glanced around. “It looks nice. I haven’t seen the place since your sister was here with you.”
“I think it doubled in size after she left.” Chloe chuckled. “It’s a bit cramped for two, even two who are as close as sisters.”
Morgaine laughed. “Believe me, I know. I shared the apartment upstairs with my cousin before she moved across the hall.”
Chloe grinned. “And let’s not forget Amber and Rory’s mishap. Two total strangers claiming the same apartment and each refusing to leave.”
When they stopped laughing, Chloe put on the kettle and took out a box of her favorite tea. “I’m afraid I only have one kind of tea to offer you. I’m not used to having company.”
“Whatever you have will be perfect.” Morgaine hummed and shuffled her tarot cards. “Do you want to do this at the dinette?”
Chloe hadn’t seen her take the cards out of the bag, but the empty velvet pouch hung from her wrist. She shuffled as if they were attached to each other, like a sleight-of-hand magician.
Morgaine gracefully seated herself at one of four chairs around a glass-top table.
Chloe’s stomach fluttered. Do I really want to do this?
Morgaine set the cards in a pile and said, “Cut the deck.”
If Chloe wasn’t intimidated by fire, she wouldn’t let a little fortune-telling get the better of her. She reached over and picked up half the pile, and when Morgaine pointed to a spot on the table, she set them down beside the remaining cards.
“Did you want to ask a question or make a wish?” Morgaine put the small decks together and shuffled them again.
Chloe couldn’t think of anything specific to ask…or even what she’d wish for. She shrugged. “I guess I’ll just let you tell me whatever you see. How’s that?”
“That’s fine.”
Chloe would guess Morgaine was in her early thirties, but she seemed a lot older and wiser. Which was odd, simply because Chloe was so much older than everyone she knew except her brother, Rory—and her cousin Conlan.
Each branch of the Arish family tree had three dragons on it. The Ulster branch was made up of three males, the Erin branch had two females and one male. And going back a generation, their mutual grandparents had another male child, whom everyone had lost track of.
But the banner with three dragons upon it remained in their castle built into the cliffs of Ballyhoo.
Morgaine spread the cards across the table and said, “Turn over three. We’ll just do a quick reading to see if you need more information. I know you have somewhere to be.”
“How did you…” She rolled her eyes. “Never mind. Psychic. I get it.”
Morgaine smiled and sat quietly while Chloe performed the task.
As soon as she’d flipped over her three cards, the teakettle began to whistle. “Excuse me.”
Morgaine gathered the cards and Chloe added tea to the pot, letting it steep. She gathered cups, saucers, biscuits, and napkins and set everything on a tray. She was glad there was a pass-through from the kitchen to the dining area, so she could set everything down within reach.
