I shake my head and start to cry.
He puts his hands in my hair and gets me to look at him. His worried eyes roam my face and then his eyes connect with mine. “What happened? Is it us?” he asks.
“No, no, not at all.”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
His vulnerability is palpable, and it breaks my heart that he could even think that for a minute. He’s perfect.
“Juliana,” he whispers. “I’m in love with you. I love you, lass.”
Hearing him say those words, the truth that I’ve known in my heart for a while, breaks me completely. I cannot lose him. I have to keep this job. I have to stay in Ireland.
My simple tears turn into an outright sob.
“Don’t cry,” he says, and pulls me close to his chest. I grip him tightly and cry into his jacket. In my whacked-out mind, I believe that if I hold on to him hard enough, I’ll get to keep him forever, because I love him, too. So much. He’s the best person I’ve ever known. He’s so kind, and so fucking sexy, and so unbelievably loving. I want to spend all of my days tangled up with him on my creaking brass bed, and wrapped around him on the back of a motorcycle as we explore Ireland, and pressed together on the dance floor as the band plays ’80s covers with a Celtic twist. I want everything with him.
And now that’s all at risk, because if I understand it properly, Aiden could take this all away from me.
Eoghan leans back and searches my face. I pull him back to me and kiss him with everything I have in me. I want him to feel how much I love him, how much I need him. He kisses back like he has the same goal in mind, because I feel his love for me. I feel his need.
When we come up for air, I still feel so fragile and everything seems much too delicate. I have to do everything I can to prevent my world from crumbling.
He must see that in my eyes, because he asks, “If it’s not us, then what is it, lass?”
It takes a long time to find the right words. “My job is the most important thing. It’s the reason I get to be here.”
“Yeah, I know,” he tells me, but there’s hurt there.
“I just can’t mess it up, okay?”
“Listen, I’m sorry that I convinced you stay home sick yesterday.”
“You didn’t…I mean, that was just as much my idea. But I need to be on my game more, you know?”
“How can I help?”
Bless this man of mine. He’s too good for me. I shake my head, but I can’t meet his eyes anymore.
It takes him a while, but he finally asks, so very quietly, “Do you need space?”
My stomach jumps up to my throat. Eoghan would give me anything I asked for. He’s too kind, too selfless. Space is what I need to get everything back on track for my job, but it’s the last thing I want. Still, it’s something I need to do so that I can keep him. So that I can stay.
“Not a lot, but a little,” I say and he shuts his eyes. I find the will to go on, “I need to get caught up on work.”
He opens his eyes and they are as fierce as ever. “For how long?”
“I don’t know, at least a couple of weeks. I’ll definitely be here for Thanksgiving and Christmas. There’s no way I can take time off now. My parents are going to flip,” I say and then laugh a little, because I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I got sent back to San Diego.
Eoghan threads his fingers through mine and stares down at our hands. “I promise I’ll keep my distance. I won’t bug you while you’re working.”
Disappointment stabs my heart. I want him to bug me. I want to be with him, but I know that the most important thing I should do is secure my job. I take a deep breath and squeeze his hand in mine. “Okay. Thanks, Eoghan.”
He pulls away from me and turns off the hazard lights. “Of course, lass. Anything for you,” he says as he pulls back onto the road. “Anything.”
Stay With Me
Eoghan
Space.
I hate my stupid mouth and my stupid ideas. It’s been two weeks and we’ve been living like roommates again. Hell, we’ve been living as true roommates, not even the kind that we used to be, where we had loads of fun together. She’s been holed up in her bleedin’ room or camped out on the couch working nonstop. The only time we’ve spent together is in the car, going to and from work. She’s weary, she’s tired, and she hasn’t spent another night in my bed since we talked about space.
I told her I love her, and she…cried. She didn’t say anything like it in return, she just kissed me. And while that kiss meant so much and I’m pretty certain that she loves me, too, I’d actually like to hear her say it. There just hasn’t been much of an opportunity for it since that moment.
It’s another crazy busy night in the pub, which seems to be the trend lately. Grandda Seán wouldn’t believe it. I miss the old man and I was lucky to have him in my life. He was someone we could count on, unlike my dad. My dad’s been trouble for as long as I can remember, and I can’t figure out how I can trust him again.
Even now, he’s sitting in the corner with some bloke that I don’t know, and I feel like he’s up to no good. They’ve been talking animatedly for the past two hours and I’ve got the most sickening feeling that it’s one of his gambling buddies…or worse yet, a bookie.
It’s only a matter of time, I tell myself, before he screws up again, and that’s why I don’t listen to his promises that he’s on the straight and narrow and wants to invest money in the pub. Every day he comes by and tries to offer me money to renovate the kitchen. I continue to refuse. That money is dirty, in my mind. I don’t care if it came from a legitimate win. I will not reinforce his habits.
Ruth has been serving them, but they haven’t actually had much to drink. I decide to make my own little visit to their table. The look Dylan gives me when I abandon him behind the bar doesn’t go unnoticed.
“What’s the craic?” I ask when I get to their table. “Who’s your friend?”
“Son, this is Tom Donneley. Tom, this is my boy I was telling you about.”
“Nice meeting you,” Tom says with a quick chin lift. He fits the type of one of my dad’s associates. Black leather jacket, silver chain necklace, sly smile.
“Right,” I reply, and look back at my dad. “Staying long?”
“Why? Do you need some help? It looks like you do.”
“I’ve got it covered.”
“I’ve served countless drinks, all before you were out of nappies, boy.”
“I know,” I say, and then take their empty glasses and go back to the bar.
“Who’s that?” Dylan asks when I return.
“Some feen named Tom, a right langer.”
Dylan peers over at him briefly. “Is your dad still trying to offer you money for the kitchen?”
“Every bleedin’ day.”
“Well, I wanted to talk to you about that,” Dylan says, and I’m surprised at how nervous he looks.
“Now?”
“Nah, after we close,” he says and then gets back to pouring pints. I join him, serving drinks right and left, just trying to keep up when Ruth comes around to my side of the bar and sets her tray down.
“Where the hell is Julie?” she barks.
“I told you, twenty times now, she’s working.”
“This is getting ridiculous, Eoghan. At this point, I’d be better off just working the bar with you two.”
Dylan sneaks the quickest smile at the notion.
“You’ve got to hire more people, plain and simple. Ain’t that right, Dylan?”
He grunts in agreement.
Ruth is right, of course, but I hate the idea so much. It feels like I’d be giving up on Juliana. Not having her in the pub has crushed me this week, and it’s not just because she’s so helpful.
I literally ache for her presence.
It’s like a huge part of me is missing, and I would give anything to see her twirling around the place again, carefree and happy. I’m a nostalgic fool for the days when she was down here. I’m totally gone in
the mind about her.
Dylan can sense all of this, of course. The lad knows me too well. “Listen, mate. Even if Julie comes back down to help, which I’m sure she will, we need more help anyway. We’re that busy.”
“Fine,” I acquiesce. “I’ll put an ad out tomorrow.”
Ruth smiles and nudges Dylan’s arm. “See, I told you he’d see reason.”
“The two of ya,” I complain.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” she says, and I know she’s talking about New York. She’s had that dream for so long now, I don’t remember her not having it.
Dylan bristles, just as I expect him to at her comment. I shake my head and get back to pouring drinks, keeping one eye on my dad and one eye on the door to my flat in case Juliana decides to join us.
A few hours later, after we clean up and close, I take a seat at a table with Dylan. We both have a double bourbon on the rocks to sip on. Well, I’m just sipping, Dylan drains the glass.
“Sláinte,” I tell him in jest.
“Right, sorry. I’m a little nervous.”
Part of me expects him to tell me he’s following Ruth to New York, so now I’m nervous, too. As hard as it would be without him around here, I wouldn’t dare stop him. I’d even help to pay his way.
“You don’t say. Why don’t you come out with it?” I nudge.
“Okay,” he says, and has one last go at his drink, not getting much from it but ice cubes against his lip. I wait patiently. Finally, he spills it. “I want to invest, specifically to renovate the kitchen, and help you make it a gastropub. I want to be a partner.”
“A partner?”
“I’ve been saving up, you know, for years.”
That’s not hard to imagine. The man has no life outside this pub.
He goes on. “And I know Padraig has been offering to pitch in, but I thought I’d toss my hat in the ring. I know he’s your dad, but I think I’ve proven—”
I cut him off, “Stop, mate, just stop.”
Dylan stares across at me, his mouth still forming his next word.
“Of course you can be my partner. You already are in spirit,” I tell him.
“Really?” he says.
“Of course.”
“Grand,” he says, then looks down at his empty glass and smiles.
“But…” I start.
His eyes snap back up.
“What about Ruth?”
“What about her?”
“She’s moving to New York.”
“I know that, Eoghan.”
“Don’t you think you oughta go with her?”
“She hasn’t invited me.”
“You haven’t told her you’d be willing to go.”
“I can’t leave Cork.”
“Yes, you can.”
“Well, if that isn’t the most ridiculous thing to come out of yer mouth. You couldn’t leave Cork, either.”
“That’s because of my family and this pub and…Juliana. I actually can’t. Sounds to me that you won’t.”
“I’m not moving to New York, mate. She’s just a girl. There will be others.”
“She’s not just a girl. She’s Ruth.”
“Just because you’re so smitten and in love, doesn’t mean the rest of us are.”
I’m convinced it’s the first time that Dylan has ever lied to me.
“Sounds like you’re hurt.”
He shrugs his shoulders and won’t look me in the eye. I’ve nailed it. “She’s the one who’s leaving. The one who wants to leave. What can I do about that?”
“Feckin’ follow her.”
“I won’t. Case closed,” he says and clears his throat. “So, can I invest or not?”
A heavy sigh escapes me. “Of course you can. Let’s work out the details tomorrow.”
He nods, takes his glass to the bar, and heads out the front door without another word.
I go ahead and drain my glass too and lock up. I don’t want to spend another minute away from Juliana. When I get upstairs, I expect to find her in her room, tapping away on her laptop, but she’s not. Instead, she’s on the couch, fast asleep with her phone in her hand. My head tilts as I gaze at her. She’s been working so hard, but I don’t understand why. Something must have happened, something that makes her feel threatened, and that makes me want to go all caveman to protect her. I just don’t know how and that makes me feel even worse.
I quietly make my way over to her and lift her into my arms. She makes the sweetest little sound, almost like a purr, but doesn’t wake the whole way to her bedroom. She’s already changed into something she can sleep in, a t-shirt and athletic pants. I pull back the covers and gently lay her down, the bed creaking under her body. I switch off the bedside lamp and lean down to plant a soft kiss on her forehead. Her eyelashes flutter so sweetly.
I force myself to turn and go.
“Stay with me,” she says, stopping me in my tracks.
“Yeah?”
“Please,” she replies, barely above a whisper.
“Okay,” I say back, and strip out of my clothes before joining her under the covers.
She curls against my body and I put my arms around her.
“I missed you,” she whispers.
“You have no idea, lass.”
“You missed me, too?”
“How can you even ask that? You know I have.”
My nose is buried in her hair and I breathe her in. I’ve missed this so much. I try to keep my cool, because holding her like this ignites my blood and I’d love nothing more than to slip inside her and show her how much I’ve missed her, but I won’t. It’s got to be her move.
“I’m sorry,” she says sleepily and nuzzles against my neck, then murmurs, “I love you.”
My heart thumps hard in my chest at those three little words. It’s everything I’ve been waiting to hear. Smiling like a damn fool, I look down at her to find her asleep.
“Lass?” I whisper, but she doesn’t wake.
Naturally, I’m tempted to wake her up, but I hold back. I remind myself that patience is a virtue, and if she loves me half as much I love her, I have to rely on faith that the space between us is only temporary.
“Goodnight and sleep well, Juliana.”
Sleep is fleeting most of the night as I savor the feeling of her in my arms. And like how it always goes, I finally pass out in the early morning. When I wake up, she’s not beside me and I’m worried she’s left for work without me. Then I hear the shower running and I breathe a sigh of relief.
My first thought…Go join her, you eejit.
Oh, and it’s tempting. I’m hard just thinking about her sudsing up, but something stops me, and it’s the sight of her phone sitting on the nightstand.
An idea starts to form and I can’t shake it off. It’s a violation, I know that, but I have to do it. I have to do something to try to fix this. I grab her phone off the nightstand and tap in that number she told me all those weeks ago: 118099. She never changed it and for a million reasons, that brings a smile to my face. I open her contacts app and take a few pictures with my own phone.
Julie
This morning’s shower feels heaven-sent. These days, any time spent away from my laptop and my phone is quality time. The water magically washes away some of the stress I’ve been mired in and I’m able to relax.
My mind drifts toward the man in my bed. I’d give my left foot to stay home with him today, have him make me a gourmet breakfast like it’s no big deal, get back in bed for a couple of hours, and then go exploring on his bike and photograph everything that’s beautiful and tattered and real. Later, we’d end up hanging out in the pub with our friends and have a fun evening full of dancing and laughter and stolen kisses, only to end up kicking off our clothes and tumbling back into bed again. That’s what sounds truly heavenly. Not some basic shower before going into work.
And just like that, work is back in the forefront of my mind. It’s not getting better. Aiden seems to really have it out for me, an
d I feel totally powerless. I keep trying to think of some way to prove that what he’s doing is some form of retaliation, but he’s smart about how he’s going about this. My tiniest infractions are getting documented, as if he’s building a case against me. All I’ve got is my word that he kissed me and made a move on me. I really hate that I didn’t confront him about it in the moment. It could be argued that it was mutual. It’s not like I pushed him away or anything. It terrifies me that my reputation could be tarnished if I take action against him.
So, my plan remains the same—keep doing an outstanding job, and there’s no way he can actually get away with this shit. I refuse to go back to San Diego. Cork is my home now.
I’m about to turn off the shower when the bathroom door opens.
“Good morning, lass,” my boyfriend says loud enough for me to hear above the shower.
“Hi,” I respond, a little higher pitched than I expect to sound.
He pulls open the shower curtain and I’m delighted to find him naked. God, he looks so good. How did I get so lucky?
“Mind if I join ya?”
“Please,” I say, unable to resist. I know that means we risk running late, but I got up a little earlier than usual so it should be okay.
Eoghan gets in and immediately wraps his arms around me. We trade places so he can get under the water and my eyes are treated even further, because if the man looks good dry, you can’t even imagine how he looks all wet. I have to bite down on my lip to hold back all the objectifying words that dare to spring from my mouth.
“Wash my hair?” he asks.
Without a word, I go for the shampoo and get to work. He’s got amazing hair. It’s so dark and thick. I’m never quite sure when he gets it cut or where, but whoever does it is in my favor. It’s model-worthy, truly.
His hands don’t stay still as I thread my fingers through his hair and rinse it. He’s touching my hips, my ribs, my ass, and I have to make an extra effort to concentrate. My nipples make the occasional contact with his chest while his needy erection presses against my tummy, causing everything south to feel liquid and hot. I finish up his hair and then grab his body wash. The smell slays me because I associate it so much with him. As if I need an additional aphrodisiac.
Pull At My Heart Page 26
