I frowned and looked down at Fliss’ questioning gaze.
“I, um,” I said, “I may have mentioned something about you when I first got here.”
“And when you stayed out all night,” Ciara added, “well, that just verified it for me.”
“Ciara,” my ma sharply warned.
“Oh, ma,” my sister scoffed, “like you weren’t thinking it too.”
“Maybe so,” my da cut in, “but show a little tact for Christ’s sake.”
Ciara rolled her eyes, but did manage to cool it a bit for the remainder of dinner. The meal was not the most relaxed we’d ever had, but it somehow became more and more like the family dinners I was used to. And Fliss was now a part of it.
Shortly after dinner, the last couple days began to catch up to me. And the rich, warm Irish stew my nanny had cooked was making me drowsy. Fliss was suffering in a similar manner, I noted, as she unsuccessfully attempted to hold back a deep yawn.
“Will you be staying here?” my da asked.
“We have a hotel room,” I caught myself saying. We had figured on Fliss staying there alone, but it occurred to me how odd that would look. At my words, she glanced over at me, and I gave her a reassuring smile. “One we should maybe get back to pretty soon. I’m half asleep just sitting here.”
My ma packed up a few things for us to take back to the hotel with us. Being a ma and all, she seemed to think we’d starve without her sending food with us, so she packed a bag full of things like floury baps, smoked salmon, and a bag of Taytos.
As Fliss and I turned towards the gate, my nanny touched her arm, once again with that weird dreamy expression on her face.
“I’m so glad to have finally met you,” she said softly. “Take care of my gossún.”
Then she gave Fliss a hug, winking at me with a smile over my wife’s shoulder.
My nanny was off her nut.
A little over a week later, we were back on a plane across the Atlantic.
Fliss and I had more or less tiptoed around each other in the small room at the Grafton Capital, both wary of touching each other. It was an odd sort of strain, that familiar longing I’d fought ever since I’d met her. Yet, at the same time, I felt a bit of contentment that she was tied to me.
Maybe just on paper, but, for now anyway, she was mine.
We slept in the same bed, even though we tried to stay as far apart as we could possibly get. I woke one night spooned up against her, breathing in the warm, fresh scent of her hair, and almost fell to the floor in my rush to back away. She had felt so good – too good – and I lay awake for the rest of the night, not trusting myself to keep from pulling her into my arms while I slept.
With marriage papers in hand, it hadn’t taken too much to get through customs as we left Dublin. A short delay while they pulled us into separate rooms to ask some questions, but we seemed to be rather convincing as there were Americans in that queue who were kept longer than the two of us. Like the poor lady who was trying to bring home black pudding for a souvenir.
We had an overnight layover in Denver, so we got a room near the airport. It ended up being a double queen, and, in spite of being so overly exhausted that I found it hard to fall asleep, once I did, I slept like the dead. For the first time in days, I didn’t have to worry about rolling into her soft body and letting my own urges take control.
But it would be back to one bed when we got home, a thought that both excited and unnerved me.
I’d called Brannon from Newark to let him know I was on the way home, and he said he’d meet me at the airport. I told him to tell the guys because I had some news to share that would kind of affect them all.
“News, huh?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I replied.
“What kind of news?”
“Big… big news.”
“You’re not dying or something, are you?” he asked cautiously.
“No,” I chuckled, “although it could be seen as a fate worse than death.”
Our plane touched down in Butte in the middle of the night, and we disembarked to see Brannon and Sophie standing there waiting. Their eyes grew wide as I reached back and grabbed Fliss’ hand, guiding her over to them. Brannon recognized her almost immediately.
“Felicity?” he murmured. “Holy shit.”
I realized Fliss was literally shaking beside me, for whatever reason I had no idea, but she suddenly looked sort of terrified at Brannon’s awestruck voice. Sophie stepped forward, towards her, glanced down at our intertwined hands, then smiled.
“I’m Sophie,” she said, offering her hand.
“I’m Felicity,” Fliss softly replied.
Brannon tore his gaze away from Fliss and locked onto mine. “So this is your surprise? You and Felicity hooked up in Dublin.”
“Well,” I began, “actually, Fliss and I got married in Edinburgh.”
I could’ve easily knocked Brannon over with a feather, he was simply that shocked. He was the only one who had the slightest clue how I’d truly felt. I’d spilled my guts a bit one night while consuming a massive amount of whiskey after Trent had died.
Sophie gave a little squeal.
“Married? Oh, Denny, I’m so happy for you!” She quickly looked back at Fliss. “And you, too. He’s a wonderful guy. He’s been an amazing friend to both Brannon and me when things got a little rocky between us.”
Brannon just kinda stared at Fliss, but slipped his arm around Sophie as she hugged him in her excitement.
“So, I’m guessing you’re both going to your place?” Brannon asked as he lifted the last suitcase into the trunk of his Cougar. Sophie was climbing into the back seat with Fliss, allowing us guys to sit up front.
“Right,” I replied. “Hopefully the guys are up and around so I can tell them all at once.”
“I’m a little curious how this came about myself, but we can have that discussion a little later.” He closed the trunk, and I gave him a nod of agreement as we got in the car to head home to Ophir.
“Felicity?” Drew gasped when we stumbled into the house at just after one in the morning. “Holy shit, it’s been a while.”
She gave him a tired smile, weary from the long trip home, but seeming less unnerved than she had been with Brannon. “Hey, Drew.”
His eyes darted back and forth between her and I in obvious confusion.
Brannon had followed us in with a couple of our suitcases that he set beside the stairs. “I’m gonna go ahead and get Soph home,” he said, stepping forward to me, “but it’s good to have you home, Denny.” He clapped me on the back in a sort of bro-hug type thing, then turned to nod cordially, albeit a bit reserved, to Fliss. “Welcome back to you too, Felicity.”
“Thank you, Brannon,” she quietly replied, and I tucked my arm around her as we watched Brannon head out the door.
“So, Drew,” I looked back over at my roommate, “are the other guys up… or even home?”
“Cody’s here,” he replied warily, “but Justin’s not home yet.”
“Sounds about right,” I muttered. I really needed them all here for this. “Well, I have a little something to tell yas. Would you want to snag Cody while I see where Justin’s at?”
Drew’s pierced eyebrow lifted, and he looked long and hard at Fliss again, then seemed to jolt a little as he caught sight of the ring on her finger. Standing there beside me. I could see him adding up all the little details in his head.
“Drew,” I said, “just go get Cody for me, eh?”
He nodded slowly and headed up the stairs.
About ten minutes after I texted him, Justin pulled into the driveway and joined the rest of us in the great room. Fliss and I stood leaning against the kitchen counter while the guys sat around the breakfast bar facing us.
I was about to lie to my friends, the guys who were closer to me than brothers, but I couldn’t admit the truth. Not even to them. I wasn’t sure if I was even going to tell Brannon, who knew all my deepest, darkest secrets. If things went bad, Fliss and I had
decided we didn’t want to make anyone else an accomplice in our deception. There was an awful lot at stake, and I didn’t want the guys going down for me if we got caught.
“So, surprise,” I smiled weakly, “Fliss and I are married.”
Drew exhaled deeply, having seen the ring and having had a little more time to process Fliss’ presence in our home. Cody was simply gobsmacked.
Justin froze for a moment and then laughed like a loon.
“It’s true, ya eejit,” I said, but he laughed even harder.
“Bullshit,” he continued to chuckle, “you don’t even like Felicity.”
Fuck, had it been that obvious? Here I’d been trying to hide my feelings that whole time, and apparently I’d gone a bit overboard.
Fliss dropped her gaze to the floor, reminding me that she’d thought the same thing, and I tentatively slipped my arm around her shoulders to pull her close against me. Telling myself it was for the roles we were playing, not because I wanted to comfort her, even though I did want to comfort her.
She slipped her arm around my waist and rested her head on my shoulder.
“No, Justin,” Drew murmured, shaking his head from side to side, “I think you may be mistaken. I’m thinking Denny does like Fliss after all.”
“How did this happen?” Cody asked incredulously. “You’ve been in Ireland for months.”
“Fliss happened to be there, too,” I nuzzled my face into her hair, “like it was destiny or some shite.”
“Fuck, Denny,” Justin scoffed, “you’re not going all girl on us, are you? Destiny? Really?”
“Feck off,” I shot back.
“Is she pregnant?” Drew asked.
“No. Jaysus, why does everyone think that?” I asked in exasperation.
“Because ever since Trent introduced us to Felicity, you’d disappear whenever she’d show up.” Justin replied. “You hated her.”
“Justin,” Drew said, “chill out a little.”
“We’re just kind of trying to figure out what changed,” Cody added.
Knowing Cody had picked up on it worried me even more. Cody was kind of the dumb blonde of the Mofos, always the last to get a joke and the first to buy into a tall tale. The guy was as gullible as the day is long.
“It just did,” I tried to explain without really explaining. “Something changed in both of us. We just knew.”
“So are you planning to move out?” Drew asked, always the planner, the one who managed the rest of us and kept us in place.
“Well, would you guys mind it much if she moved in with us? At least for a while.”
Fliss looked up at the guys, warily studying their reactions to my request.
Drew glanced at the other two and spoke for them. “I think it’d be alright, right guys?”
Cody nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, no problem here.”
Justin was a little slower to respond. “Just as long as she doesn’t chase any tail away, we should be okay.”
“I’ll try not to cock-block you, Justin,” Fliss offered with a tremulous tilt to her lips. Then, as though the words triggered it, she yawned in exhaustion.
“Here,” I said, releasing her and grabbing her carry-on in one hand and her suitcase in the other, “I’ll show you up to my room… er, our room, I guess. You look about ready to drop.” Looking back at the band, I nodded to the stairs. “I’ll get her settled in and come back down for a bit.”
“I’ll grab the whiskey,” Justin said, heading to the cupboard.
“‘Night, guys,” Fliss murmured as she followed me up the stairs. She took a few steps, then turned back to look at the group. “And thank you, for letting me stay.”
Flicking on a low light by the bed, I pushed Fliss’ bags up against the wall.
“Well,” I murmured, “that went about as well as it could have, I suppose.”
“Yeah, they didn’t seem to ask too many questions.”
“That was likely for your benefit,” I shrugged. “I’m liable to get a few more when I get back down there.”
I watched Fliss walk around the room, taking in the surroundings as she hung her coat over the back of a chair. Saying I wasn’t much of a decorator was a bit of an understatement. I’d had this room for a couple years, but had barely done a thing with it. My large bed with a thick black and blue plaid coverlet and black flannel sheets sat positioned beneath the wide windows, as I liked fresh air while I slept. A tall, dark mahogany dresser sat in the corner with the random-looking chair alongside it. Two small tables, each holding a simple lamp, rested on either side of the bed. My old acoustic guitar propped up in another corner.
“I halfway expected Jimi Hendrix posters, pot plants, and a mattress on the floor,” Fliss said with another wide yawn as she wearily sat on my bed.
“I’m not much of a decorator,” I murmured. “Not even pothead chic. You can do whatever ya want in here while we’re… while this is…”
It was hard to put into words what I was trying to say without actually saying it aloud. While we’re married. While this is your home, too. It still seemed surreal and strange.
Which is exactly how it should have felt since it was a temporary thing. It wasn’t going to last but a year or so, just long enough to get my green card.
“So, the, uh… the bathroom is the middle door in the hallway,” I said. “If you need anything, just let me know.”
“Aren’t you sleeping in here?” she asked, her brows pulled together in confusion. “If we’re not telling them the truth about why we’re married, it might be a little odd if we didn’t stay together.”
“I’ll be up in a bit. You just look pretty knackered,” I shrugged. “I figured I’d let ya get some rest, and it might be easier without me in here. This will all take a little getting used to.” Tossing what I hoped looked like an easygoing grin over at her, I continued. “I’ll just go down and have a drink with the fellas. Face the questions that they didn’t want to ask with you there.”
“Because they didn’t want to offend my delicate sensibilities?” she said with a half-smile.
“Something like that,” I nodded.
Seeing her sitting in my room, on my bed, while her fair skin glowed in the low light of the bedside lamp, was almost painful. More than almost. Actually, it was pure excruciating. I ached all over, remembering how it felt to touch her. More than anything, I wanted to nudge her to lie on her back, to cover her with my body and undress her slowly. To make her moan and to fall asleep with her in my arms once again.
But none of that should happen. None of that could happen. This was just a temporary deal, and I really, really needed to keep it platonic. Even though I had no doubt in my mind that it would be the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life.
They knew I was lying, but what could they say.
I’d answered their questions, more or less. I was vague and cryptic. I avoided the details. Avoided anything that could trip us up later.
We’d pulled out some weed, the first I’d smoked since I’d left for Ireland. That calm, relaxing euphoria swept over me. A mellow sedation that helped me feel like everything could be alright. I could do this. I could be with Fliss to the world, but keep her at arms’ length inside. Even though her blue eyes haunted me. Such a stunning color. They were like nothing I’d ever seen. As I took a hit from the joint, I closed my eyes and saw her smile.
“So beautiful,” I murmured.
“Yeah, she is,” Drew replied, as though he could read my mind. “She always has been.”
I tried for a moment to remember Trent’s face, Trent holding her, and I couldn’t. It was like every vision of him had been replaced with one of me – my arms around her, my lips placing delicate kisses on her neck.
“Just keep the sex noises down,” Justin chuckled half-heartedly.
Yeah, that wouldn’t be a problem.
“You’re a lucky man, Denny,” Cody drearily said, lounging on the couch.
Even stoned and relaxed as I was, though, I w
asn’t sure that lucky was the way I’d have described myself right then. Married to a girl I’d always wanted, but still couldn’t have.
I slowly climbed the stairs to my room where I’d taken Fliss a few hours before. I opened the door and could just faintly make out the shadow of her body on my bed. A narrow stream of moonlight slipped through the curtains to show her partially covered frame sprawled out. She was fast asleep.
She had the sheet draped loosely across her hip, and her legs were kicked out from underneath. Long and smooth in the faint light. My gaze traveled up her torso, slowly growing accustomed to the shadows, making out the edge of the dark tank she wore with a pair of boy shorts. The curve of her breast peeked out, and my mouth watered to feel that silky smooth skin on my tongue once again.
I was stoned out of my mind and a little drunk, too. Fliss’ soft waves spread across the pillow, and, as I drew closer, I could smell the sweet, freshness of her perfume that rose with the warmth of her body.
My own fallen angel, appearing somewhat gothic in the dark sheets. Her thick, long lashes fanned out over her cheeks. She was my idea of perfection, innocence hardened with heartbreak. My hazy mind pinpointed on the sensation she aroused in me. The desire to see her eyes sparkle with life, blasting out the cold, lost girl she showed the world.
I’d seen it happen just a few times those first days in Dublin.
I wanted to see it here, to know if it was the magic of my homeland, or just simply the magic of Fliss.
Quietly, I pulled my shirt over my head and shucked off my jeans. Wearing only my boxer briefs, I slid between the dark flannel sheets and lay on my back, my hand tucked under my head, staring up at the ceiling. Warmth radiated from the soft body that lay so close to me. Once again, the calming sweet scent of her perfume filled my nostrils.
I fought it.
I knew it was a bad idea, so I pushed the yearning away, refusing to move until the ache won out and I turned towards Fliss. I barely touched her when she curled into my arms, pressing firmly against my chest.
“Denny,” she murmured in a groggy breath.
Her hand slipped along my ribs, leaving a tingling burn in their wake as she snuggled into me. Her foot caressed my calf, her breath whispered across my chest. I reached for her arm, thinking I should push her away, but instead my hand glided over her skin, up her shoulder, then down to rest at her narrow waist.
Wild Irish Envy (Copperline #2) Page 15
