In Touch (Play On Book 1)
Page 24
For once, it hadn’t ended in sex, and she was glad. She couldn’t have handled the emotional intensity.
Gillian called to him. “Do you want to get a coffee before I leave?”
Throwing his arm around her shoulder, he turned her toward the cozy waiting area. “I’ll get them.” The airport was decorated like a north woods lodge—stone fireplace flanked by comfy chairs and small end tables with lamps, done in a Frank Lloyd Wright style. She’d lived in Traverse City almost her entire life, but had never really noticed. Her emotions were running so high her senses must have kicked in to keep up. Everything seemed magnified and dulled at the same time.
He retrieved their coffees and made his way back to Gillian who had taken a seat in an area in the corner. When he handed her the skinny latte, she spoke up. “You seem awful full of yourself today. Must be really looking forward to getting home.”
Padraig placed his coffee on a table and rested his elbows to his knees. He scanned the room. “I am.”
“Ya know, I’d love to go some day. I’ve always wanted to see Ireland.”
He turned to smile at her. “I’m sure you’ll get there.” Padraig wasn’t helping her crazy one bit. Perhaps karma for dragging him to the middle of nowhere and beating the living addiction out of him.
“Do you have someone picking you up at the other end?”
“Me ma. And she might bring my da along, too.”
“Moms are great.”
“They are.”
They were walking tentative circles around each other with their small clipped words. Not wanting to push or prod, they would break the fragile threads on which they hung. Her gut was in bits, her head and heart the same.
“So what are your plans when you get back home?” she asked.
He shrugged, then blew out a long breath. “Not sure. Will see a few mates. Go out for pints. Get some shopping done. Haven’t really thought that far ahead.”
Their coffees sat on the table between them, growing cold. Gillian grabbed his hand and linked her fingers with his. “You’ll keep in touch, right?”
“Of course. I’ll text you from my Irish phone so you’ll have my number. You can call anytime.”
That was better. But when he bit his bottom lip, it seemed as if he regretted the words that had escaped.
“I might be a bit busy when I first get to Cork.”
Oh, shit. He was already backpedaling. Gillian swallowed her disappointment. “Oh, right…well, we can email then.”
“I need to sell my car for one.”
She pinched her eyebrows in confusion.
“I need to pack up some boxes to get them shipped over here. Take care of my finances. Organize the rental of my apartment…”
She jerked so quickly to standing the chair bumped the coffee table, both cups tipping over. There was little spillage with the lids on, so Padraig righted them both and swiped the table with some napkins. Hands on her hips, she stood in front of him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Over the airport speaker, a female voice, sounding overly happy and rehearsed, announced priority boarding for his flight to Chicago for first class, business, and passengers who needed special assistance. The announcement finished before he raised his full frame from his chair to stand directly in front of her, invading her personal space.
“Aw, c’mere to me.” He pulled her into the wrap of his arms, resting his chin on her head. “Gill, I think I’m in love with you. I’m coming back. For the Eagles. For the Blues…” He paused. “But mostly, for you. I’m even thinking of getting a tattoo with Gill—”
“What?” Gillian tried to push away, but he pulled her back into his arms, firm around her waist and back, then lifted her off her feet until her face was level with his.
“I’ve been offered a position with the Eagles for the World Cup, and I’m going to take it. And I’ll stay here and play for the Blues for a while. Until I grow too old and rickety.” Padraig smiled. “You know Shano got a spot, too?”
“Seriously? You guys are going to play for the Eagles?”
He chuckled. “That we are.”
He kissed her until she melted. When the kiss finally broke, she asked, “When are you coming back?”
“After Christmas.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“Only Scotch and Del.”
She pushed off him to land on her feet, but a clumsy fall of arms and legs. “They knew before me? When did this happen?”
“Hey now, miss, they had to know. I wanted to surprise you.” He tried to draw her in again, but she stepped away.
“I’ll need a place to stay…”
Hands on her hips, she made one distinct nod. “You better start looking.”
He laughed, but then set a serious tone to his voice so she couldn’t mistake his intentions. “I wanted to give you something… Ya know, so you think of me.”
He handed her the Munster T-shirt out of his backpack, the one he’d worn when they went north to her cabin. It was folded, but a pungent odor wafted from the fabric. “I didn’t even wash it…so you can smell me when I’m gone.”
His pinched mouth and convulsing stomach muscles told her he was trying desperately to hold in his laughter.
“Lovely.” She had tried to put on a Cork accent, but it came out sounding like “lowflee.” It was an awful attempt, but it broke his straight face.
“I thought all the ladies loved the smell of their man close to them to feel safe and comforted when they miss ’em.”
“Uh…no.”
He exaggerated confusion with a dropped jaw. “What are ya sayin’, like? You ungrateful knacker.”
She punched him lightly in the gut. “What’s that mean? Doesn’t sound good.”
“I’ll let you find out when you come visit.”
She couldn’t wait. “When?”
“As soon as ya like.”
“Okay, I’ll book a flight for tomorrow. Will that give you enough time to get settled?”
He laughed. Behind him the line to the gate had diminished to only a few remaining passengers. “Here, I’ve got to get going. I’ll call you as soon as I land.”
Even knowing he was coming back, this was harder than she’d imagined. She already missed him and he was standing right in front of her. “I’ve got something for you, too.” She handed him a bag with a box inside. “But you can’t open it until you’re on the plane.”
Standing on her tiptoes, she gave him one last peck, then drew out his arm as she stepped away, giving it one last tug before she let it drop. “I’ll see you in Ireland”—she gave him a big grin to take back with him—“or when you get back.”
She left out the door as they announced general boarding for his flight. She couldn’t help herself and watched him through the window as he picked up his duffel from the floor and moved toward the loading gate.
She wondered if he would wait until he boarded before opening her gift. She chuckled to herself at the irony. Padraig answered her question when he stepped out of the line and waved for the people behind him to pass. He dropped his bag and pulled out the box.
Inside were her very old, very used high-top black Converse. That he hated.
After he opened the lid, he threw back his head and laughed. She couldn’t hear the sound, but she could feel it, as strong as if he was standing right next to her.
She realized then she had never said she loved him back. Nothing said “I care about you” better than a pair of stinky old shoes. She chuckled to herself. Nothing said “I love you” better than making that person laugh. Because, above all else, she wanted him to be happy, to lighten his load just for a minute. He hated the damn things so much, he couldn’t help but think of her when he saw them. Good. And she’d wear his jersey to sleep at night. After she washed it.
When he slipped back into the line to board, the sun blinded him from her momentarily until he stepped out of its steely path back into the shade of the building.
She’d get a
nother pair of Converse, perhaps red next time.
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Meet the Author
Having traveled and lived all over the world, Cd Brennan now enjoys reliving her glory days by writing about them. Feisty heroines with wanderlust or sexy rugby heroes who breathe passion for more than just the sport.
Aussie/Yankee twined, Cd is now settled in Michigan with a rugby player of her own and two wee sons who are still adapting to the snow. A full-time editor and mum, her and her hubby still dream of starting up a buffalo farm. And maybe some chickens and pigs, too. She loves rugby, traveling, and all things from the 80s.
Doesn’t watch TV so don’t chat to her about that, but she loves to hear from readers about anything else! Perhaps some cooking suggestions? She’s desperate in the kitchen! Find her on loads of your favorite places.
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Check out Cd Brennan’s first book of her Love Where You Roam series.
Watershed
Amazon
She left home to find herself...and found love along the way.
Maggie isn't looking for love on her backpacking trip through Australia. She's got enough man troubles back in Ireland. Australia is her escape, a place of adventure where she can create memories to last a lifetime.
But some memories won't be left behind.
Gray is ready to quit hiring backpackers to help with the work on his remote Queensland cattle station when Maggie turns up. She's just passing through, but the connection they forge during the long nights herding cattle won't be so easily cast aside.
CONTENT WARNING: A strong-willed Irish heroine, a stubborn Australian hero, and oceans of difference to bridge for love.
Watershed Sneak Peek
Chapter 1
Maggie
Maggie swatted the flies away from her face. The late afternoon heat was intense, sweat spots forming on her tank top. Her feet were dusty from pacing the side of the road in her flip-flops, and she’d left her big sun hat on the bus, long gone, and no sign of Josephine. For that matter, a single car hadn’t passed for the twenty minutes she’d been waiting.
Her fair skin burned under the hot Australian sun. Although she had layered on the sunscreen, her skin hadn’t seen this much exposure in the twenty-six years of her life. She reconsidered sheltering under a small clump of bush off the side of the road. Getting to the shade meant digging her trainers from her backpack, and that meant spilling the guts of her belongings onto the side of the Capricorn Highway to find them. It exhausted her thinking about it.
She raised her hand, shielding her eyes from the light, squinting in the direction she imagined Josephine would come. She was somewhere west of Emerald. What would she do if Josephine didn’t turn up? She didn’t even have any water left.
Heat simmered over the black bitumen. The terrain was completely different than what she’d known in Ireland, where there was an amorphous quality to the landscape. Green fields flowed into green trees, fitting against the gray buildings and sky. Here, everything was so--defined. There was the sky and the land and the one tree in the middle of a paddock a person couldn’t help but notice.
Now everything looked a dull brown, not how Georgina had described it. Maggie did recognize, however, the gum trees she had raved about.
“The bush is a beautiful place, not many see it that way. They aren’t looking at it right. The gum trees--that’s the eucalyptus, you know--set a wonderful fabric to the land with their leaves full of texture and their white bark contrasting against the red soil.” Georgina had become animated, waving her hand in front of her like she was painting a picture. “And when it rains, everything turns green in front of your eyes and the rain powers the rivers along beds that were moments before nothing more than rock and weed.”
Maggie agreed on the rock and weed. It was everywhere. Long grasses bordered the road and scattered over the land. There were plenty of short, scrub-like bushes, and the cone-shaped statues of red dirt that speckled the canvas must be termite mounds.
Sweat from her forehead settled in the corner of her eye and stung. Feckin’ great. She swiveled around to look the other direction and caught a glint of metal off the sun.
Someone was coming! Her stomach lurched. As it approached, she watched the mirage change to an old beatup white truck with a metal tray in the back. It had a black snorkel and a large radio antenna on the bull bar.
Please, Mary, let it be Josephine. What if Georgina hadn’t been able to ring her daughter? What if they didn’t stop? What if they did and the person in the truck was some nutter like the guy in Wolf Creek?
Why had she even watched that movie before she came to Australia? She hadn’t been able to sleep for four days after she’d seen the horror flick about a remote bushman who helped lost or stranded tourists by towing them back to his camp in the middle of nowhere, only to drug their drinking water and have his way with them. So. Very. Disturbing.
Maggie half raised her arm to wave the driver down, but the vehicle had started slowing. She walked toward the truck as it came to a stop. A dog in the back lunged at its chain and barked as she cautiously approached the window.
“No worries, she’s friendly,” she heard.
She leaned into the window. Not a fat balding bushman, thank jaysus, but her breath caught.
Instead, the most handsomely rugged man looked back at her. His mussed hair was light brown with natural highlights any girl in Ireland would envy. A strong jaw defined a weathered face with deep lines webbed around golden-brown eyes, as if he spent much of his time laughing.
Strong, slender fingers played with the hat on the seat next to him. Even the man’s thumb joints were perfect. He wore faded jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, cuffed to the elbows. If they traveled well, Maggie reckoned this was Australia’s best export. She’d heard stories from the other girls on the bus tour about these country men, built strong and fine. Knew how to fix a truck, muster cattle and make a fancy dinner over a camp stove. Supposedly, real gentleman.
Unfortunately, he wore a scowl that darkened his lovely features. Was he scowling at her? What the hell for? Maybe she looked worse than she felt.
Suddenly, blood rushed to her head and she grabbed the door to keep her balance. She tried to speak but everything went black.
Watershed
Available Now
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Contents
Cover Copy
Books by Cd Brennan
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Author’s Foreward
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
New Release Newsletter Sign-Up
Meet the Author
Watershed Sneak Peek
Chapter 1
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