Love and Leprechauns (Ballybeg, Book 3) (The Ballybeg Series)

by Zara Keane

“Next year, we need three eyes,” Gavin said mournfully.

  His wife’s grin widened. “Or matching leopard-print swimming trunks.”

  ***

  All afternoon, Olivia served cakes with a plastered-on smile and forced small talk with customers. In truth, her mind was elsewhere. Ever since her visit with Victoria, she’d felt unsettled. She was probably being fanciful, but something about the way her mother had spoken about Aidan’s murder set alarm bells off in her head. Her mother was ruthless and could be hard as nails when she wanted to be, but surely she wouldn’t stoop to murder. Or would she?

  A shiver ran down her spine. The memory of her mother’s cold eyes, the color eerily reminiscent of her own when she stood before the mirror, but with a calculating and inscrutable edge to them, gave her the creeps. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts both incoherent and unpalatable.

  “Go on home, Liv.” Fiona was packing the last of the unused paper plates into a crate. “I can take it from here.”

  The offer was tempting. A walk along the seafront followed by a piping hot shower would clear her head. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course. Gavin and Jonas will be here in a minute to help me pack up the car. In the meantime, I have two handsome males to keep me company. Don’t I, boys?”

  Wiggly Poo gave a bark of acknowledgement, but Luca appeared distracted.

  Olivia dropped a kiss onto the little boy’s forehead. He didn’t acknowledge her, his gaze fixed on some point out at sea. “Everything okay, little guy?”

  “The beach is covered in rubbish. People need to clean it up. The tide’s coming in.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Neat Freak. A cleaning crew is on the case.” Olivia grabbed her cardigan from underneath the makeshift counter and slung her bag over her shoulder. “See you soon, Luca. Bye, Fee.”

  Although she wasn’t fond of the beach itself—working the sports day cake stand had required significant will power—there was nothing like a stroll in the Atlantic wind to blow off the cobwebs. She took the stone steps up to the promenade.

  Glancing at her phone, she read a quick text from Jill assuring her that all was well at the café. She had a little time before she needed to get back.

  Her pace was brisk, and the wind was strong. She drew the salty air into her lungs with relish. She rarely looked out over the sea, but for some reason her eyes were drawn today to the spot where Bry drowned. A small boy played in the spray, fully clothed and clutching a red object. Olivia put a hand to her forehead to hold back her hair and get a better look. She squinted. The child looked very like Luca. But surely he wouldn’t be in the water unattended?

  She watched as the boy waded further into the water. He’d best be careful not to go too far out. The current could be treacherous here, and the tide was on its way in. The waves crashed, but the child ignored them, seemingly intent on reaching a floating object. Suddenly, a large wave crashed against the shore, knocking the boy off his feet. Another followed in quick succession, followed by yet another.

  At this point, Olivia ceased to think. Dumping her bag and cardigan, she vaulted the stone wall and fell to the sand below. She kicked off her shoes the instant she hit the ground. Then she ran like she’d never run before.

  By the time she caught up with the boy, he was face down in the water, struggling to regain his footing.

  “Luca!” Her banshee screech was lost in the wind.

  Her heart hammered in her chest as she waded into the water. She grasped under his arms and dragged him up. The tide was strong, making keeping her balance a struggle. She was already knee-deep in water. A vague notion she should feel panic flitted through her mind, but she crushed it. This was not the time to freak out.

  Hauling Luca, she struggled toward the shore. She dragged him a few meters away from the water before collapsing onto the sand.

  Luca coughed and spluttered but seemed otherwise none the worse from swallowing a bucketful of seawater. When she was sure he was okay, she lost her cool.

  “What on earth were you doing? You know not to wander off on the beach alone, let alone wade into the water.” The pounding of her heart rang in her ears. She hadn’t been this close to the sea in ages. It had taken her the best part of five years after Bry’s death to screw up the courage to walk along the beach, and even that she did while steadfastly refusing to look out at the crashing waves.

  “I wanted to clean up the rubbish before the tide came in.” Luca’s cheeks grew red with embarrassment. “The cleaning crew wasn’t working fast enough.”

  “So you decided to go by yourself?” She shivered. Her wet clothes clung to her body. She was soaked from head to foot and shaking from cold and terror.

  The little boy was suddenly finding his soggy shoes of intense interest.

  She modulated her tone. “You know how dangerous the beach can be without an adult. Even adults have to be careful around the water. You know what happened to your Uncle Bry.”

  Luca hung his head in shame. “Nana talks about him when we go to mass. We always light a candle for him. Seems silly to me. It’s not like he can see it.”

  “It’s a symbolic gesture, and it obviously means a lot to your grandmother. Now come on. Let’s find your father.” She took his small hand in hers, and he squelched along beside her as they trudged over the sand. “Why on earth didn’t you take off your shoes and socks before you went for a dip?”

  “I didn’t have my flip-flops with me. I don’t like walking on stones.”

  Typical Luca logic. “Your dad must be frantic.”

  As if on cue, Jonas came pounding down the steps, an expression of sheer terror on his face. Gavin followed close behind, looking equally rattled. At Gavin’s heels was Wiggly Poo. Of the three, Wiggly Poo was the only one delighted to be there.

  “My god, Luca,” Jonas cried, his voice breaking with emotion. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  Luca ran to his father, and Jonas caught him up in a bear hug. They looked so damn sweet together that her breath caught.

  “One second, you were helping us load up the car. The next, you were gone.” Jonas stroked his son’s wet hair. “Promise me you’ll never run off like that again. Don’t go near the sea without an adult.”

  “I promise,” Luca said between sobs. “Am I in trouble?”

  “Yes.” His father hugged him close. “But not today. We’ll figure out a suitable punishment tomorrow. For now, I just want to get you home and into a hot bath.”

  Gavin hovered in the background. “Should I come back with you to Curzon Street?”

  “No, I can manage. Go help Fiona pack up the stand. I’ll give you a ring tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I’m relieved the little guy is all right.”

  “All thanks to Olivia.” Jonas’s smile brought heat to her cheeks and a stab of lust to her groin.

  “It was nothing,” she murmured, dabbing at her wet face, conscious of her wet and bedraggled appearance.

  “Bollocks.” Jonas’s eyes shone with emotion. “You saved my son’s life. I know how you feel about the sea. It was a huge deal for you to go into the water.”

  “Luca’s safety is more important than my phobia,” she said through chattering teeth.

  “Are you heading back to your cottage?”

  She nodded. “I need to change out of these wet clothes.”

  “Then let’s walk back together.” He reached for Luca’s hand. The little boy gave a sneeze and a shudder.

  “We’d best get a move on,” Olivia said. “Luca is turning blue.”

  During their trudge to Curzon Street, they drew curious stares from passersby.

  “I’m sorry for what I said the other day. About us keeping our distance. I was panicking, thinking I was being noble.”

  His eyes twinkled with mischief. “The mighty Olivia admitting she was a tad rash?”

  She scrunched up her nose, then sneezed violently. “Oh, rub it in, why don’t you?”

  “Sorry.” He grinned, looking not the least bit re
pentant. “I couldn’t resist. I’ve missed you terribly, as has this little guy.” He patted Luca’s shoulder.

  The little boy gave her a slow smile. “I miss your scones.”

  She laughed and bent to kiss his soggy hair. “I’ve missed your endless dinosaur stories.”

  When they reached their road, Jonas turned to her. “Will you come by our house later?”

  “Sure. I’m going to get dried and changed, then help Jill close up the café. I should be round in a couple of hours.”

  “Excellent. I wanted to ask you about what you mentioned the other day. About you doing a bit of sleuthing on your own. Please tell me you weren’t serious.”

  “I was deadly serious. If the police aren’t following up any other leads—assuming they even have any—then it’s up to me to clear my name. If I clear my name, I clear yours.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t quite follow your logic. Don’t go haring around looking for trouble. Someone had no qualms about bashing Aidan’s brains in with that gnome.”

  Olivia flinched. “Thanks for that visual.”

  “Sorry, but it’s true.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Do you want a similar fate?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then be sensible and leave it to the police. And if you do know something, talk to Sergeant Mackey. He might not be in charge of the case, but he’s got more sense than that fool from Dublin.”

  “So far, I have nothing to tell. I only wish I did.” Her mother’s hard expression from earlier danced before her eyes. She blinked it into oblivion and shivered.

  They reached their respective cottages.

  “You’d better get out of those wet clothes. Thank you for saving Luca,” Jonas said solemnly. “I’ll never forget what you’ve done for us.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes, and she blinked them away. Expressing emotions didn’t come naturally to her. She wasn’t used to feeling overwrought, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She focused her attention on little Luca. “Make sure you behave for your Dad.”

  “I will,” Luca promised before disappearing into the house behind his father.

  Olivia had a quick shower and changed in her loft bedroom, grateful for the dry clothes. She was shaky with shock. The enormity of what had happened—and what could have happened—was dawning. If Luca had been in deeper water, would she have remembered how to swim? As a child, she’d swam like a fish, so much so that her grandfather had called her his Little Mermaid. There wasn’t a swimming trophy in the county she hadn’t won, even making it as far as the Munster championships. But after that fateful night with Bry, she’d thrown every swimsuit she’d owned into the bin and relegated her swimming days to history.

  The exhilaration she’d once experienced when she looked out at the crashing waves was no more. The terror of the first couple of years had been gradually replaced by a cautious respect for the power of the tides. It still made her nervous when her brothers swam, but she swallowed her anxiety and plastered a smile upon her face.

  It did no good to dwell on the past. Bry was gone. Not everyone who waded out to sea disappeared beneath the waves forever. If today proved anything, it was that she could face the water in a crisis. She regarded her pale reflection in the bathroom mirror. She straightened her shoulders. Maybe she should think about going to the swimming complex in Clonakilty. They had a shallow pool she could try before venturing into the deep end. It was time to face her demons.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  LUCA SPLASHED IN THE BATH as if nothing extraordinary had occurred. Jonas vacillated between the urge to shake the little guy and to hug him.

  “I like Olivia. I wish she came round more like she used to.”

  Jonas wished she did too. He missed her. Missed the belligerent tilt of her jaw when she was digging her heels in over something or other; missed her lively green eyes; and most of all, he missed talking to her. This part surprised him. He’d never had many female friends, and his conversation with former girlfriends had been limited to certain topics. With Olivia, he could talk about anything. And then, of course, there was the sex…

  “What happened to Uncle Bry? Everyone whispers about it but no one says what happened.”

  “He drowned.”

  “I know that. But why do Granny and Granddad say it was Olivia’s fault?”

  “Because she went swimming with him. He drowned. She didn’t.” Dark memories surfaced in all their unedited horror. “Olivia was…She and I had just started going out.”

  “She was your girlfriend?”

  “Yeah. I was studying journalism in Dublin at the time, so we only saw each other every second weekend. The evening Bry died, there was a beach party. I was meant to be there, but the train from Dublin was delayed. Bry, Olivia, and I often had swimming contests. I guess they decided to go ahead without me. By the time I got to the beach, Olivia was wet and hysterical and Bry was missing.”

  “Do you think it was her fault?”

  He shook his head. “No way. They were both drunk and foolish to ignore the warning flag, but it was nothing the three of us hadn’t done on countless occasions before.”

  “Can I have hot chocolate?” Luca asked, effectively derailing the conversation. He had the info he’d wanted and had no interest in hearing anything else.

  “Sure.” Jonas scrubbed the boy’s hair with a towel and helped him into a pair of clean cotton pajamas.

  “Olivia makes great hot chocolate.” Luca perched on the kitchen counter and watched his father dissolve chocolate powder in hot milk. “But yours isn’t too bad…except when you burn it and it gets a gross skin at the top.”

  “I’ll try my best to avoid gross skins.”

  Once they finished the chocolate, he brushed his son’s teeth and tucked him into bed. “Sweet dreams, little guy.”

  But Luca was already asleep. Jonas dropped a kiss onto the boy’s soft cheek and tiptoed out of the room.

  In the hallway, a soft rap of knuckles on glass drew his attention to the front door. A red-haired blur was visible through the frosted panes. “Hey,” he said when he opened. “Come on in.”

  Olivia stepped into the narrow hallway. “I didn’t want to ring the doorbell in case Luca was asleep.

  “Today’s adventure appears to have worn him out. He was asleep before I’d finished reading the first page of his bedtime story.”

  She poked the tip of her tongue between her teeth. “Let me guess…dinosaur-themed?”

  “Shockingly, no. I persuaded him to borrow a space adventure story from the library.”

  “Good job, Dad.” She raised a questioning eyebrow. “Self-preservation?”

  “Ab-so-lutely.” He tugged her into the living room and drew the curtains. “Shall I open a bottle of wine?”

  Olivia touched a finger to her red-rimmed mouth, then traced a line from her bottom lip to the top button of her blouse. “No wine. The only taste I want tonight is you.”

  His arousal began the instant she unbuttoned the first pearly disc. By the time the silky garment slid off her shoulders to reveal her braless-state, Jonas was rock hard. “Whoa.”

  “I didn’t bother with underwear. I didn’t think I’d need any.” She took a step forward and lowered her voice to a husky whisper. “Was I wrong?”

  “Hell, no.”

  Her dirty laugh set his blood humming. “I didn’t think so.” Touching his jaw, she drew her fingernails through his stubble. “Take off your T-Shirt.”

  He obeyed, his mouth parched. She ran her palms over his chest, tweaking his nipples, massaging the planes of his torso. Tracing the bulge in his jeans, she flashed an impish grin and slid to her knees.

  ***

  Olivia took Jonas’s erection into her mouth, relishing each centimeter of taut, silky flesh. When she reached the tip, she danced her tongue in circular motions, making him groan. “Not good?” she teased.

  “Too good.”

  He found the zip of her skirt and pulled the garment over her hips, reveali
ng the bare skin beneath. The sight of the cheeky little leprechaun on her left buttock made him growl. Picking her up, he carried her to the sofa. He ran his hands up her inner thighs and stroked the flesh between her legs.

  She was already slick with need, hot with desire. “Condom?”

  “Here.” He produced a foil wrapper with a flourish and winked at her. “I took it out of my wallet before my jeans hit the floor.”

  “Clever boy.” She leaned into him, and his lips claimed hers in a passionate kiss. He smelled of hot chocolate and shampoo. Utterly delectable. She pulled him closer, needing, wanting more.

  When he entered her, she adjusted her hips to accommodate his size. And then she ceased to think, each thrust bringing her closer to release. She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his back, kneaded his buttocks, and drew him deeper inside. Her orgasm hit like a tsunami of pleasure. She cried out, and he muffled her scream with a kiss seconds before his own climax.

  Afterward, gasping, sweaty, and utterly satiated, they collapsed on the sofa.

  “I am never letting you go again,” she murmured into his ear. “No matter what happens, you’re stuck with me.”

  Jonas’s deep laugh tickled her neck. “Just as well you think so, because I’m not letting you go.” He gazed into her eyes, suddenly serious. “I love you, Olivia. I always have. Let’s put the past behind us and make a future together.”

  She opened her mouth to respond but was silenced by the shrill ring of the doorbell. Jonas drew back, frown lines marring his otherwise smooth forehead. “Rather late for a social call.”

  The implication of his words dawned. Their gazes locked. In his eyes, she read fear, and her sense of foreboding quadrupled.

  Jonas leaped to his feet and threw on jeans and a T-shirt. Olivia followed suit, her fingers fumbling over the tiny buttons of her blouse.

  Out in the hallway, she discerned dark shapes through the frosted glass panes of the wooden front door. Panic twisted her stomach into knots, and she grabbed his arm. “Don’t open it.”

  The piercing ring of the doorbell echoed for the third time, shrill and insistent. Luca appeared in the hallway, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What’s all the noise?”