Summer Fire
Page 66
“A good investment,” he echoed softly. He didn’t really care what return he got on his money as long as it gave him a reason to come back to Ballyglass Castle regularly.
He slipped his fingers beneath the silky fall of her hair. Most of the time she wore it in a ponytail, but she’d had it loose for the bank appointment today.
“I’m pleased I made you happy, kitten.” He rested a hand at her waist and pressed his lips to her temple.
“You’ve done more than make me happy. You’ve given me a chance to follow my dreams.” She laid her palm on his cheek, staring into his eyes. “I know you understand what this means to me. Thank you, Aaron.”
Fiona slipped her arms around his neck and he pulled her close, pressed his nose to the sweet curve of her neck, and inhaled the fragrance of her sun-warmed skin.
He was happier than he’d been in forever, yet he ached inside like a bruise at the thought of how he’d let her down and hurt her in the past. Could he ever make up for that? She’d been young and trusting, and he’d acted like a jerk. Was it possible to turn back the clock and resume where they’d left off ten years ago?
He longed for a second chance, but he had responsibilities in Dublin that would pull him back there, and he wasn’t the same man now. The phone in his jeans pocket vibrated as if to underline that.
Without releasing Fiona, he pulled out his phone and stared at the screen. It was his boss. He put the phone to his ear and answered. “Can’t talk now. I’ll call you back in twenty minutes.” Then he cut the connection before his boss had time to reply.
He shoved the phone back in his pocket. With a sense of urgency, he held her tighter, molded her against him, and let his mind run loose as he imagined what might be. He didn’t want to leave her. He wanted to breathe the clean country air and stop having to look over his shoulder all the time in case someone was out to get him.
And he wanted to kiss her.
He pressed his lips to hers, the soft kiss quickly growing more heated. They couldn’t go back in time, but they could go forward. Maybe his future was brighter than he thought.
*
Aaron returned his boss’s call as he’d promised. With a hand rested on a tree trunk, he stared at the dry, cracked earth around the tree roots and listened as he was told to get himself back to Dublin as soon as possible. From their recent conversations, he’d suspected this order was coming, but that didn’t make it any less unwelcome.
He answered a few questions and memorized the address of the apartment he was to use. The chief superintendant hadn’t gone as far as to make him stay in a safe house, but he’d sent down the order that Aaron had to spend the nights somewhere with a panic room available, just in case the Dublin mafia came after him.
Shoving his phone back in his pocket, he stubbed the toe of his shoe in the dirt and blew out a frustrated breath. He knew he had to go back, and he wanted to see the investigation through to the end and make sure the scum were off the streets, but he’d hoped he had a few more weeks here before that happened.
If today was all he had with Fiona for a while, he must make the most of it. He followed the trail she’d left through the long grass and headed to the kitchen. The builder and architect had arrived to discuss the building work. He paused in the kitchen door, letting his eyes adjust after being outside in the bright sun.
Fiona, Jamie, and Ewan were gathered around the kitchen table, staring down at plans held flat by a sugar shaker, a jam pot, and salt and pepper shakers. With them stood a tall, skinny man wearing glasses and a golf sweater, and a shorter bald guy wearing dirty jeans and with a pencil behind his ear.
“Vehicle access will be useful,” Fiona said, “but not essential. We can carry stuff between the new workshop and the castle car park, and Jamie can move anything heavy with the tractor and trailer.”
“That makes extra work for us.” Jamie’s voice held a note of frustration as he ran his finger over the plan. “We might as well put in a new road from the car park to the barn while we’re doing all this construction.”
“Think about the cost.” Fiona twisted an elastic hair tie around her fingers, a blue one with a sparkly plastic fairy on it. No doubt it was a kid’s thing, but it went with the whole wishing jar gig and suited her like the fanciful business did. He would miss her fairy hair ties, her long silky hair, her childish enthusiasm, and her beautiful eyes. He would miss everything about her.
“Build the access road,” Aaron said, joining them at the table to gaze down at the plans. “I’ll pay for it. If you’re going to do this, you want to do it right.”
“Aaron, you’re already giving us the money to build the barn.” Fiona bit her lip, emotions warring on her face. He could tell she really wanted the access road despite her objection.
“I’ll get my money back once Ballyglass Wishes expands. Anyway, as a shareholder I get a say now, don’t I?”
“Okay, two of us have voted yes on the access road,” Jamie said. “Ewan, what do you think?”
Ewan had sidled away to the pantry and was biting into a cheese scone.
“Ewan,” Fiona cried. “You’ll spoil your dinner.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m not a kid.” He sputtered crumbs and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth.
“What do you vote, Ewan?” Jamie demanded.
“The access road sounds like a good idea.”
“Okay, vote carried. We’ll go for the access road.” Jamie ignored the evil stare Fiona gave him.
Merlin jumped on the table and planted his backside in the middle of the plans and started washing himself.
“Oh, sweetie, are we ignoring you?” Fiona picked Merlin up, and he purred loudly and gazed up at her in contentment.
Aaron took a few minutes to check over the plans thoroughly and ask the builder and architect some questions. After all, he was putting up the money for the work.
Satisfied, he stepped back while Fiona and Jamie agreed on the start date and scheduled the work with the builder. He wished he’d be here to watch the barn go up and share Fiona’s excitement, but by then he’d be in Dublin doing paperwork, interviewing suspects, giving evidence, and watching his back. It would be many months until all the cases came to court.
He stooped and picked up the hair tie Fiona had dropped when she picked up her cat. He stared at it lying on his palm and slipped it into his pocket. It was just what he needed to complete his wishing jar.
While Fiona and Jamie finished up with the builder, Aaron went upstairs and retrieved the blue mason jar from under his bed. He’d not known what to put in it to start with, but over the last few weeks, he’d added various things. He unscrewed the jar lid and dropped in Fiona’s fairy hair tie and a chip of granite he’d picked up in the meadow where the new wishing barn would be built. Then he put back the lid and held the jar up to the light.
It wasn’t exactly pretty, not like the jars Fiona made and sold, but everything in it meant something to him. He was actually rather pleased with it.
Along with the piece of granite and Fiona’s hair tie, he’d put in a few nails like the ones he used to fix the shingles on his granddad’s cabin, a smooth, mottled pebble from the edge of the lough, a tiny model cat that looked like Merlin, an interesting piece of bark off the tree where they used to play, and the old photo he’d found in the cabin. That pretty much covered everything that mattered to him.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard the builder’s truck start up and found the kitchen empty. He walked out into the sun to find Fiona and Jamie sitting on the bench outside the back door, both sipping cold beers.
“Finished,” he said, holding up his wishing jar with a grin. “Where do I put it?”
Jamie squinted at the jar, and Fiona held up her hand to take it. With a hint of reluctance, Aaron passed it over. He hoped she didn’t notice her hair tie inside. When she angled it towards the sun, the stones and nails rattled about.
Fiona’s eyebrows rose and she gave him a
curious glance. “This is…unusual.”
Jamie hooted with laughter and playfully punched Aaron on the arm. “Love it, mate. Best wishing jar yet.”
“This is definitely a guy wishing jar.” Fiona’s smile gave way to a frown as she peered through the blue glass at the contents. “Do I see my—”
“I’ll have that back.” Aaron interrupted her, lifting it from her hands and gripping it against his chest.
“You can take it away with you if you like, or we’ll find a spot on the wishing trail for it.”
“I’d rather leave it here.” Where he was going was not a place for wishing jars. Even ones full of stones and nails.
Fiona set down her beer glass and rose to her feet, stretching her back with a satisfied sigh. “How about we take a stroll and find a safe place for your jar now?”
“Yeah, you can give me that guided tour you promised me.”
And they could have some quiet time together for him to break the bad news that he had to leave.
Chapter Eight
Fiona’s body still hummed from the kisses she and Aaron had shared in the meadow earlier. It was a pity she’d had a meeting with the builder, otherwise things between her and Aaron might have gone further—like they did in her daydreams.
“Want a cold beer before we walk the wishing trail?” she asked him.
“No, I’ll have one later.”
He held out his hand and she slipped her fingers into his palm. Just touching him like this sent sensation streaking along her nerves. She glanced at him and smiled when he met her eyes. He was so gorgeous and generous, and now that he was her business partner, there was no chance he’d forget her again.
They walked along the old flagstone path across the lawn that was dotted with tables shaded by brightly striped umbrellas. An arched gateway in the ten-foot-high granite wall led to the walled garden that she and Jamie had remodeled to create the wishing jar walk.
A fragrant pink rambling rose laden with blooms clung to the stonework and framed the entrance. Nestled among the stems of the rosebush was the wooden sign she’d put up on the day they opened. It read Wishing Trail, and underneath she’d written the wishing jar poem.
Stardust, magic, and wishes,
Fairies, dreams, and kisses.
Gather them in Wishing Jars,
And the spirit of Ireland
Will grant your desires.
Aaron stopped and read it, a smile tugging at his lips. “Did you write this?”
Fiona’s cheeks heated as his eyes sparkled with mirth. She’d been pleased with the poem when she made it up. Yet it sounded silly now she saw it through his eyes.
“Err, yes.” She pretended to hear something and gazed over her shoulder at the kitchen door.
“Hey.” Aaron tugged gently on her hand to attract her attention. “It’s good, kitten.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers. “I’m afraid my jar isn’t full of stardust and magic, though.” He gave it a shake, and it rattled like the jars of nails Jamie kept in his garden shed.
Fiona laughed, her embarrassment gone. “As long as it contains your wishes and dreams, that’s what matters.”
He gave an enigmatic smile, and her heart tripped. She was almost certain she’d seen one of her hair ties in his jar. The thought sent her hope soaring up with the larks in the summer sky.
“Come on. I’ll give you the grand tour.”
She led him along the cobbled path Jamie had laid. They wandered between flower beds that were a patchwork of color with lavender, pansies, delphiniums, marigolds, anemones, and many more plants, then into the welcome shade of some shrubs. The first seat came into view, a metal bench decorated with elaborate curlicues that she’d picked up in an estate sale, then rubbed down and repainted.
Above it, a huge leafy buddleia bush formed a wall of foliage covered in pendulous purple flowers. An army of butterflies and bees buzzed between the little cups of pollen and nectar.
“This is called butterfly corner for obvious reasons. It’s one of the places people like to leave wishing jars.” She gestured at the rows of jars underneath the seat and tucked among the chunks of granite that lined the path.
Aaron glanced around thoughtfully and shook his head. “Not quite right for me.”
She’d guessed this wasn’t the place he’d choose to leave his jar, but she knew exactly the spot he’d like.
Taking his hand, she led him along the cobbled path underneath four wooden arches covered with climbing roses that formed the rose arbor. This was a popular place for visitors to leave their wishing jars, and many hung on fine wires nestled among the blooms.
“Hang on,” he said. He broke off a yellow rosebud, stripped the thorns from the stem, and tucked it in her hair over her ear. “That looks pretty. You should wear yellow roses in your hair when you get married.”
Her heart leaped, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. Was he dropping a hint? She stared at him, unable to say a word in case something embarrassing burst out of her mouth like, “Do you want to marry me?”
When the silence stretched too long, she dragged her gaze away from him and focused on breathing. He obviously wasn’t about to pop the question. She must be reading too much into a casual compliment.
“Let me show you the fairy grotto.” They held hands again and Fiona walked slowly, trying to calm herself and enjoy the moment rather than keep hoping for promises that were unlikely to come.
“Wow,” Aaron said as they turned a corner. Resting his hands on his thighs, he leaned down to examine the fairy house Jamie had constructed out of pebbles beside a huge hollow tree stump full of bushy green ferns.
The fairy grotto was decorated with odd-shaped rocks, lots of model animals, and carved wooden toadstools with little fairies sitting on them. All around the tableau, tourists had left pretty wishing jars for the lucky Irish fairies to bless.
“I might leave my jar here,” Aaron said.
“This is a lovely place, one of my favorites. But walk to the end of the trail before you make a decision.”
They followed the narrow, winding walk, stopping by a loveseat that was a suntrap in a sheltered nook surrounded by fragrant lilac and huge saucer-shaped purple, pink, and white clematis flowers climbing up a trellis. Merlin was asleep on one side of the warm wooden bench.
“This is Merlin’s loveseat.”
Aaron chuckled. “So he meets female cats here, does he?”
Fiona smiled. “Actually, there has been a pretty gray cat hanging around here recently. It’s quite unusual. I don’t know where it comes from.”
“Maybe it’s a fairy cat.” Aaron raised his eyebrows, his grin teasing.
No doubt he thought the fairy stuff was a load of nonsense and was humoring her the same way Jamie did. But she didn’t mind what the men thought. The wishing trail and wishing jars had proven so successful, there might really be a touch of magic involved.
“The final place to leave jars is the fountain of wishes. It’s my favorite spot on the trail, the only part that’s original.” The part that held the most memories.
“I remember the wishing fountain.”
Aaron followed her along the final twenty yards of twisting pathway until they reached the far wall of the garden. A statue of two lovers entwined stood on a pedestal above the fountain, the water pouring out at their feet and trickling into a large stone bowl below. Shiny coins glinted in the bowl where visitors had thrown them, hoping for a little extra luck at the end of the trail.
It was a hot day, but Fiona felt even hotter as memories flooded her mind. This was where Aaron had kissed her on her sixteenth birthday. It had been the most wonderful day of her life, the sky a dark bowl sparkling with a trillion stars, Ewan’s guitar music playing softly in the distance, the sound of the water burbling. And the melting, mind-shattering sensation of Aaron’s lips against hers.
The memory flowed sweetly for a few moments, then the taint of betrayal crept in to spoil it. This was also the pla
ce where he’d made the promises he’d never kept.
Aaron squeezed her hand as if he guessed what was on her mind. “Is this where you put your wishing jar?”
Fiona swallowed hard to hold back tears that suddenly blocked her nose and tightened her throat. She blinked repeatedly until the surge of memories and emotion abated.
“I’ve made a few wishing jars for myself over the years and left them on the trail, but this is where I put the first one, the one that started the whole idea.”
“Can I see it?”
She went cold then hot, her cheeks suddenly burning. She hadn’t expected him to ask this. “I don’t know if it’s still here.” A lie. She checked it regularly to pull off the snails and wipe it clean.
“I’d like to put mine beside yours.”
Fiona froze, overcome with a fresh surge of emotion. She stared into the brown depths of his eyes, searching for sincerity and maybe even love. He looked so earnest, but she’d stood in this same place and stared into his eyes with such hope before.
“Please,” he said softly, and he sounded so young, like the boy she used to know.
A welcome gust of breeze lifted the hair off his forehead. She so wanted to touch his face, to run her fingers through his hair and kiss him and tell him she loved him and always had. Tell him she’d never stopped thinking about him and dreaming about him and longing for him to return.
Instead she nodded and stepped towards the lichen-encrusted stone seat built into the wall on the right of the fountain. Woody wisteria stems covered the wall and curled around the edge of the fountain, the bunches of green leaves and blue flowers dangling down.
Fiona reached into the shade beneath the seat and pulled her precious jar from its mossy corner. She kept her hands curled around it, embarrassed to let Aaron see the photographs and trinkets inside, all things he’d given her or things that reminded her of him.
Yet when he set his jar on the seat and reached for hers, she let him take it and hold it up to the light. He already knew he’d broken her heart when he left and didn’t come back. There was nothing in that jar to surprise him.