Wild Irish

by C. M. Seabrook

  “What?” Aiden frowns at me, then shakes his head. “No, I didn’t see a damn woman.”

  A pressure builds inside my chest, and I grumble when I realize what it’s from – concern.

  Fuck. What do I care if she left?

  “We need to talk,” Aiden says, watching me warily.

  Going back to the kitchen, I grab a mug and pour myself a coffee.

  She’ll be back. Her luggage is still here. It’s not like she wandered off in the middle of the night. She probably just went for a walk.

  But what if she got lost? She doesn’t even have a damn phone.

  I slam my mug down and storm towards the front door, intent on finding her before she gets herself into more trouble.

  “Cillian?” Aiden says behind me, concern in his voice.

  “What?” I stop with my hand already on the door handle.

  “Enough of this shit. Get over yerself. The band needs ye.”

  “Fuck the band. Unless ye’re ready to get rid of Owen, I’m done.”

  Aiden shakes his head. “Ye know that’s not going to happen. But if ye’d just listen to him–”

  “I already heard his lies.” I open the door and practically barrel right into Delaney. I have to grab her by the waist to stop her from falling.

  She lets out a small squeal, her fingers fisting in my shirt.

  We stand there like that for a moment, her staring up at me with those big, expressive eyes, and my own breathing rough and uneven.

  “Where were ye?” I growl, making her eyes widen even more. I drop my hands from her waist and take a small step back, unable to control my body’s reaction to touching her.

  She watches me warily, biting her lower lip as her gaze flickers down my chest, resting for a moment on the bulge between my legs. I see her swallow hard, then quickly draw her gaze away, cheeks turning a shade of scarlet.

  “I-I was just looking around. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  Aiden clears his throat behind me.

  I turn around, glaring at him when he raises an eyebrow.

  Aiden ignores me, turning his gaze to her. “And ye are?”

  “Delaney.”

  “And how do ye know our boy, here?”

  “I–”

  “She banged up her car. I’m letting her stay here until she gets it fixed.”

  Aiden’s eyes widen slightly, and a grin tugs at his lips. “Ah, so yer the one who hit Davie’s fence.”

  “My tire blew–”

  I grunt. “Ye were driving in the middle of the road.”

  “I was fine until you came speeding around the corner.” Her arms cross over her chest and she purses her lips.

  Aiden chuckles, and I give him another pointed glare.

  “Well, if ye’re going to be here for a couple days, you should join us at O’Donoghue’s Pub tonight. We’re going to be celebrating.”

  “Celebrating?” I shove my hands in my pockets and lean against the door.

  “Emer didn’t tell ye?” His face brightens the way it always does when he talks about her. “I asked her to marry me.”

  “Shit.” A sense of loss slices through me, but I immediately push it away. “I thought Emer was smarter than that.”

  Aiden grunts, his gaze focusing on Delaney. “So ye’ll come tonight? Let us show ye a bit of Irish hospitality.”

  She shrugs. “I’ve got to cross number eight off eventually.”

  Aiden raises an eyebrow in curiosity, but I know what she means.

  “Drink a Guinness in an Irish pub,” I mutter.

  “You memorized it?” Her mouth hangs open, and red starts to creep up her neck, infusing her cheeks.

  Aiden’s palm smacks down on my shoulder. “Good, so I’ll see ye both there around nine.”

  “No,” I bite out.

  “Owen won’t be there, if that’s what’s worrying ye.”

  I grunt.

  “Ye know it’d mean the world to Emer if ye came.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I lie.

  He exhales a heavy breath as if he can read my thoughts.

  “Wild Irish,” Delaney says, glancing down at Aiden’s shirt. I didn’t even notice he was wearing it. “That’s the band from the radio. What was the song called? The one they’re playing on every station here?”

  Aiden gives me a funny look, then says, “Meet Me In Sligo.”

  “Right. That one.”

  “Yer a fan?” Aiden asks her, glancing at me quickly, and I can see he’s wondering what game I’m playing at.

  No game. It just hadn’t come up. Not without sounding arrogant.

  “I’ve never heard of them until yesterday,” Delaney says. “But, yeah, from what I’ve heard, they’re pretty good.”

  “They’re from around here, ye know.” Aiden walks past me, then says over his shoulder, “If ye come tonight, ye might even get to hear them play.”

  “Really?” Her eyes brighten.

  “No.” My voice comes out sounding more like a growl, and it has Delaney turning to me with a frown.

  “I’d better go,” Aiden says, chuckling.

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “See ye tonight, Delaney. It was a pleasure meetin’ ye.”

  I slam the door behind him, making sure to lock the deadbolt.

  “He seems nice,” she offers.

  I ignore the comment and head to the kitchen.

  “Have you heard anything from your friend who towed my car?”

  “I haven’t checked my messages.” I grab my phone, but the damn thing is dead. Plugging it into the charger, I turn and lean against the counter.

  She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and fidgets nervously. “Thank you again for letting me stay here last night. Hopefully I can get everything settled with the rental company today and be out of your hair.”

  My phone turns on just as I’m about to tell her she can stay another night if she needs to, but the beeping lets me know there’s a new text.

  It’s from Tommy.

  I read it quickly, then curse under my breath, “Shit.”

  “What?”

  This is bad. Really bad.

  I rake my hands through my hair and read the message a second time.

  “What’s wrong? Is it about the car?” she asks again.

  “Ye didn’t get car insurance?”

  “What?” Her eyes go wide and her mouth drops open, and I can see the trickle of fear mixed with denial. She shakes her head. “Of course I did.”

  “Tommy said he contacted the rental place.” I hand her my phone to let her read the message. “Ye’re not insured, sweetheart.”

  “No…” She takes my phone from my hand, scrutinizing the message. “That’s not right…” Her eyes squeeze closed like she’s trying to remember. “When they asked me, I said yes. I’m sure I did.”

  “Do ye have the paperwork?”

  “It’s in the glove compartment.” Her bottom lip is quivering, her eyes full of panic.

  I take the phone back and text Tommy again, asking him to double-check. He gets back to me almost immediately.

  Damn.

  “There’s no paperwork for the insurance. Just the rental agreement.”

  She shakes her head again, eyes starting to tear up, and she reaches out to steady herself on the counter. “This can’t be happening.”

  “I wouldn’t panic until ye know what the damages are.”

  “I ran the car through a brick fence and down the side of a hill into a field of sheep. I’d say it’s going to cost me.” Her fingers wrap around the edge of the counter, and her shoulders slump forward, starting to shake.

  I’m about to reach out and comfort her when I realize she’s not crying, but laughing. It starts out small, but only gets louder, until she has tears streaming down her face.

  “Ye think it’s funny?” Maybe the woman really does have a few screws loose in her head.

  “No.” She wipes at her cheeks with her palms and takes a few stead
ying breaths. “Not at all.”

  The way she says it, I know her outburst is about more than just the car.

  “Ye can stay here for a couple days until ye figure out what ye’re going to do. Or at least till Tommy can give ye a better assessment of how much it’s going to cost.”

  I expect her to argue. Instead, she says softly, “Thank you.”

  Nodding, I turn my back to her, rubbing the back of my neck as I wince. Letting her stay here is the least I can do.

  I’d taken that corner too fast, but it wasn’t just that. I’d had more than enough room, but I’d been an ass, almost daring her to hit me.

  Guilt and a sense of responsibility weigh on me. That’s why I’m letting her stay. It has nothing to do with the fact that all I can think about is that damn list of hers.

  Chapter 7

  Delaney

  This whole trip is turning into one giant disaster. I came here to try and find myself, to create a new me, but the only thing I’ve managed to create is more trouble for myself.

  Cillian has been on the phone for half the day with his mechanic friend, and I know by the way he’s been acting that the news isn’t good.

  He let me borrow his laptop, and I made the mistake of Googling how much it would cost to replace the car. I didn’t think it was that bad until I did the conversion from euros to dollars. I have no idea how the hell I’m going to pay for it if it comes to that.

  Groaning, I shut the laptop on the kitchen table and bury my face in my hands. “I can’t believe how stupid I am. Who doesn’t get car insurance?”

  Me, apparently.

  “Have ye called yer family and let them know what’s going on?” Cillian asks, leaning against the counter, legs crossed, sipping from his mug.

  “No.” My parents would freak out if they knew what happened, and I don’t want to give them anything else to stress about.

  His lips pull down slightly, but thankfully he doesn’t ask me anything else. I’m already a damn charity case to him, I don’t need any more pity from him.

  “Go have a shower. Relax. There’s nothing else ye can do right now.”

  “Drink,” I mutter, nodding at the new bottle of whiskey on the counter beside him.

  He chuckles.

  “I’m serious.” I push my chair back and stand. I’ve never been much of a drinker, but right now there’s nothing I’d rather do than get wasted. “I know you don’t want to go to your friend’s engagement party, but I could really use a night out. Anything to take my mind off the fact that I’m probably going to be paying off a car I can’t even drive for the next ten years.”

  His expression changes, his blue eyes becoming stormy.

  “Maybe you could just drop me off?” I know I’m asking a lot. He’s already done more for me than most strangers would do.

  He grunts and places his mug on the counter, then crosses his arms over his chest in a defensive posture.

  “Please.” Begging isn’t something I’m proud of, but I need this. I need an escape from my reality, even if it’s just for tonight. “I may be back on a plane to Chicago tomorrow. You’re not going to let me go home without crossing at least one thing off my list.”

  Sure, it’s a bit manipulative, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

  His nostrils flare, gaze darkening, his expression unreadable. I’m sure he’s going to say no, but he surprises me when he lets out an exaggerated sigh and says, “Fine.”

  “Really?” Without thinking, I wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him.

  Even though I’ve felt it before, I’m not prepared for the heat that spikes through my body the instant I touch him. A blazing inferno that goes straight to my core.

  I start to pull away, but he captures my wrists, his blue gaze narrowing in on me. There it is again. That look. Hungry. Primal. The one that says he would devour me if I let him.

  Let him, my body begs.

  But my brain, always the realist, screams, He’ll destroy you.

  His fingers tighten and he leans in, his eyes studying me like he can read every thought, every fear going on inside my head.

  “Go.” The command is a low growl. He releases me, dropping his hands to his side. “Get ready. We’ll leave in forty-five minutes.”

  I nod and take a step back. “Thank you,” I murmur.

  “Ye said that already,” he says gruffly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

  Ignoring the gruffness of his tone, I shrug. “Well, I am.”

  I leave him to the bottle of whiskey he’s already reaching for.

  After I shower, I go back to his bedroom to get dressed.

  It’s odd, but even though I know I’m one hundred percent screwed with the car, I can’t help but feel the tiniest bit of anticipation about going out tonight.

  Back home, I’d probably be sitting on the couch, eating a tub of Ben & Jerry’s, while binge-watching Netflix and feeling sorry for myself.

  But tonight, I’m having a real adventure.

  And the way I see it, I have one of two choices. I can either have an emotional meltdown about something I can’t change, or I can take advantage of my situation.

  Yeah, I’m single, jobless, broke, and probably close to financial ruin. But…I’m in freaking Ireland!

  I doubt I’ll ever be back here. I might as well enjoy what little time I have left.

  Maeve’s list sits on top of my suitcase. I pick it up, then sit on the edge of the bed and unfold it.

  I’ll never be able to complete the list now. Not without a car. But there are still a few things I can do. I drag my fingers over the words and sigh.

  Maeve added one final thing to the list the day she died. At the bottom of the page, bolded in black ink, she wrote, Find Your Happiness.

  It seems an impossible thing.

  I know the words were written for me, and not her. Like she knew she’d never do any of the things on her list.

  Even through her illness, Maeve never lost her joy or her passion. Her smile could brighten any room. She was happy. And not the fake happy that most of us try to muster to get through the day. No. She enjoyed the short amount of time she had here.

  God, I miss her.

  “Find your happiness.” I sigh, fold the paper, and put it down on the dresser. It’s probably the biggest challenge she gave me. But it’s one I’m going to try my best to accomplish, at least tonight.

  I open my luggage and pull out a pair of low-rise jeans and a black halter top, as well as my make-up bag and curling iron. I haven’t worried about my appearance since I’ve been here, but as I get ready, I spend a little extra time on my hair and make-up.

  When I open the door, the soft strumming of a guitar drifts down the hall. I’ve never heard the song before, but I know enough about music to know it’s an intricate pattern of notes that require skilled fingers.

  I lean against the doorframe and watch him. He must’ve changed when I was in the shower. He’s wearing ripped jeans and a gray t-shirt that’s snug enough to allow me to see the muscles beneath as they bunch and constrict when he moves. His hair has flipped forward, covering half his face, but I can still tell he’s lost in the music.

  It’s the first time I’ve seen him with his defenses down, his handsome face free of whatever burden he’s carrying.

  He finishes playing, and for a moment his gaze is distant, his fingers resting over the strings.

  “You’re good,” I say, coming into the room, not wanting to be caught gawking at him.

  He grunts and places the guitar on the couch beside him, then he glances up at me. His brows draw down immediately, and his mouth parts.

  I can’t read his expression as his gaze roams down my body and back up, but I see the way his jaw clenches and his nostrils flare.

  Self-consciously, I fidget.

  “I didn’t know what to wear. Is this not appropriate?”

  He swallows hard, then shakes his head and looks away. “Ye look fine.”

&nbs
p; It’s not the compliment I was hoping for.

  “I guess we might as well be getting this over with.” He stands and grabs his phone and keys from the coffee table, once again inflicted with a moroseness that’s almost contagious.

  Not tonight.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything but miserable.

  Tonight, that changes.

  Tonight, I’m going to cross off at least one of the things on Maeve’s list – hopefully, with Cillian.

  Even if it means using a little liquid courage to do it.

  Chapter 8

  Cillian

  I swear the woman has been sent by the devil himself to tempt me.

  My cock is throbbing, and the way her jeans hug her curves, showing off her long legs, isn’t helping matters. If I don’t touch Delaney soon, I’m going to be a candidate for the asylum.

  I roll my shoulders and neck in an effort to relieve the tension building there.

  As soon as we arrive at the pub, Emer drags her away. They seem to click immediately, but the way they keep looking in my direction and giggling has my defenses up. But hell, they’re always up these days.

  I can feel the tension around me. Most people have kept their distance, and the ones that have approached seem to be walking on eggshells.

  Good. As long as everyone leaves me alone…

  I should never have agreed to come here tonight, but I swear I can’t say no to Delaney.

  Maybe I should just fuck her and get her out of my system. The way she looks at me, I know she’s begging me for it. But then, every time I touch her or get too close, I see the hesitation, the small traces of fear behind those hazel eyes.

  “Yer American seems to be having fun.” Aiden hands me a Guinness and slaps my back.

  I grunt at the impact.

  “She’s not my American.” I drain half the glass, not taking my gaze off her.

  Colin Murphy has been all over her for the past hour, his hand inching lower and lower down her back. And I know the look in his eyes – greedy lust. But what’s really pissing me off is that Delaney seems to be enjoying his attention.

  Aiden chuckles. “Ye could’ve fooled me the way ye’ve been watching her.”