Straight Up

by Deirdre Martin

  “How can you even ask that? Couldn't you tell how much I was enjoying myself?”

  “Men enjoy themselves regardless.”

  "That's a myth. Men do not enjoy themselves when women lie beneath them stiff as a corpse or are too inhibited to move or make noises

  " Aislinn was pleased she wasn't guilty of either.

  "You're so beautiful. Aislinn

  “ She lifted her head to stare at him. ”Go on with yourself,“ she scoffed.”Why can't you just accept a compliment?"

  Aislinn flushed. "I don't know. I've just never thought of myself that way.

  “Connor never told you were beautiful?”

  “Yes, but he was lying, wasn't he?” Aislinn said bitterly. “No more talk of him, please.”

  "Agreed

  Aislinn laid her head back down on his chest, loving the feel of his hands still roaming over her naked body. She closed her eyes, reveling in how easy it was to be here with him this way. And yet.

  She took a deep breath. “There's something I've got to tell you,” she murmured uneasily.

  “What's that?”

  “I don't take sex lightly. Maybe this is just a one-night stand for you. If it is, let me know now.”

  “Of course it's not.”

  Aislinn said a small prayer of thanks inside her head. “I'm glad.”

  “We're together now,” Liam said.

  She lifted her head again, her gaze serious. “A couple who are taking it slow and keeping their relationship to themselves.”

  “Aislinn, if we're together, I want everyone to know.”

  “In time. But right now, let me savor us having a little secret, please, before the news spreads like wildfire and we get no peace?”

  “All right, all right.”

  She was guarding herself from pain. She couldn't bear it if she let the world know she was with Liam, and soon afterward, he decided to dump her. She wanted to wait until she was absolutely sure they would be together forever.

  Liam searched her face. “You're really not going to tell anyone?”

  “Just Nora,” Aislinn said after a pause. “She's good at keeping things to herself.”

  “Is she going to tease the hell out of you for spending the night with me?”

  “I'm not spending the night with you. I'm going to spend a few more minutes cuddling with you, and then I'm off home to catch a few hours' sleep before Padraig and I start our day.”

  “What time do you get up?”

  “Around four thirty.”

  Liam looked at her as if she were daft. “Are you kidding me?”

  She poked him in the chest affectionately. “Obviously you know nothing about sheep farms and shepherding, city boy.”

  “Four thirty,” he repeated to himself in disbelief. “Back home that was the time I was usually going to bed.” He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “Stay. I'll set the alarm. You'll get back in time.”

  “No. Padraig will know something is up if I come rumbling up the drive at that hour. He's usually up at four.”

  “Sounds like my dad. The older he gets, the more trouble he has sleeping, despite putting in long, exhausting days.”

  “Happens to a lot of older people. My dad was the same way, too. Worried about the farm, worried about this or that.”

  “But you have no trouble sleeping?”

  Aislinn laughed loudly. “Me? No. I sleep the sleep of the dead. I'm exhausted by the end of the day. Plus the country air helps.”

  They lay there a few more minutes, chatting about everything and nothing at all. Finally, Aislinn forced herself to get up and started getting dressed.

  Liam propped himself up on his elbow, watching her. “You should wear your hair down all the time.”

  “Can't. Not while I'm working. Last thing I need is the wind blowing it about in my face.”

  “I mean when you're out with me.”

  “If you'd like,” Aislinn said shyly. She chuckled at the sight of him stretched out there on his couch, naked. “You look like a centerfold.”

  Liam peered down at himself with amusement. “I don't think so.” His expression turned mischievous. “How do you know about male centerfolds, miss?”

  “I've heard tell of them,” Aislinn said coyly.

  “I'll bet.”

  Liam rose, too, slipping on his briefs and jeans. “Next time you'll stay the night?”

  Aislinn shook her head. “You'll have to stay at my house. You can sleep in while I get up to do my chores.”

  “Sounds romantic. Maybe I'll help you and we'll send Padraig out with the flock and we'll have sex in the barn after you've sent him out into some far field.”

  Aislinn eyed him skeptically. “If that's a fantasy of yours, I'd prefer you keep it to yourself for now,”

  Liam took her in his arms. “I wish you didn't have to go.”

  Aislinn sighed heavily. “I wish I didn't, either. But I've got work to do.”

  “When will I see you again?”

  Aislinn hesitated, It was early days yet: she didn't want to rush things. Besides, if he came up to the house during the day, he'd wind up getting underfoot like Nora - and it would also rouse suspicion in Padraig. Perhaps she was being childish and silly wanting to be all hush-hush about it, but it felt as if the universe had given her a gift, and she wanted to keep it all to herself for just a little while. you what,“ said Liam. ”Call me tomorrow, and we'll figure out when we'll see each other next. How's that?"

  That sounds grand. A contentedness she hadn't felt in more than a year overtook her. Thank you for a wonderful evening.

  “My pleasure,” said Liam, walking her down to her truck. He checked his watch. “I'm not tired. I think I'll e-mail my brother, see what's kicking.” He kissed her nose. “Don't work too hard.”

  “We're trimming hooves today.”

  “Sounds exciting.”

  “Don't lie. It doesn't suit you.” She hopped up into the cab of her truck, started the engine, and leaned out the window for a final quick kiss.

  “Talk to you tomorrow, Yank.”

  Liam smiled, and with a small wave, he disappeared round the back of the building where the steps to his flat were. Aislinn made a conscious effort not to let the adrenaline flying through her dictate how wildly she drove back to her farm.

  The house was dark when she finally slipped into her bed, the sheets lovely and cool. Despite her elation, it was a sense of contentment that prevailed. She and Liam O'Brien. .

  Nothing she could dream could ever be more wonderful.

  Straight Up

  Chapter Twelve

  ************************************************************************************************

  Don't lie. It doesn't suit you.

  Aislinn's words haunted Liam as he turned on his laptop. He was wired, thoughts ricocheting inside his skull like bullets. He should have told Jack he didn't care if he thought him a coward: the bet was off. He would have caught a lot of grief for it, but who the hell cared? At least he wouldn't be deceiving Aislinn, the woman he was falling in love with. The woman who thought he was something he was not: honest.

  He checked his mailbox: there was an e-mail from Quinn giving him all the latest news. He was shocked to read that Quinn had taken a buyout at the newspaper, which was about to go under. Quinn had started his own website, the O'Brien File, where he blogged about NYC politics. He was also freelancing, and wrote there was a chance he might be on assignment in Dublin in a few weeks. Natalie's mother had died, and they were thinking of buying an apartment with the money she'd left Nat: their parents were well, though their father was still refusing to get his bad back looked at: their pain-in-the-ass uncle was still working behind the bar: their sister Maggie and her husband Brendan were considering moving out of the city because they didn't want to the raise the baby there: last but not least, their sister Sinead was contemplating dating again after her painful, protracted divorce

  Despite the possibility of seeing his
brother in a few weeks, homesickness still gripped Liam. He longed to be in New York with all of them. He wanted to be behind the bar at the Wild Hart, hanging out with the regulars, one of whom, PJ Leary, had a book coming out soon, which he'd supposedly sold for over one hundred thousand dollars. Liam couldn't believe it: whenever PJ read excerpts from the book at the Hart, it had taken all Liam's strength not to tell him to put a sock in it. Leprechauns battling talking salmon, fairy kings and queens - it was a Celtic nightmare. But obviously, there was a market for it

  Quinn had concluded the e-mail by telling him that he hadn't yet gotten the word from his friend in the FBI that it was safe for him to come home. Liam's heart sank for a moment before his mind clouded with confusion. If he got the okay to come home right now, would he? He honestly couldn't answer

  He e-mailed Quinn back, not telling him that he'd met someone. He knew if he did, there would an onslaught of phone calls from his parents and his sisters. His folks would want to hop the next plane to Dublin to come over and meet Aislinn. An Irish girl from their hometown - talk about their dream come true! Better to wait and see what happened. He wasn't totally clueless: he knew there was still a small part of Aislinn that was holding back. If there weren't, she'd have no problem with their relationship going public. She'd also have wanted to see him again as soon as possible: there would have been no hesitation

  He surfed the 'net for awhile, checking to see how his hometown hockey team, the New York Blades, were doing, then shut down his computer, hoping to catch some mindless TV, forgetting there were no programs on in Ireland past 1 a.m. if you didn't have cable. Restless, he vent to bed, willing himself to sleep. Instead, he found himself staring at the low, slanted ceiling, thinking about Aislinn

  He never thought he'd feel this way about a woman - a cliché, but it was true. Wit, beauty, intelligence, tenderness, passion - she had it all. On a certain level, he was proud that he was the one who'd been able to crack the hard shell she'd created to protect herself. Okay, it had started off as an exercise of pure ego, but that motivation soon melted when he caught the first glimpse of the soft, sensitive, wounded woman insideone who would tear him limb from limb if she ever found out the origin of his pursuit of her.

  He closed his eyes, replaying the passion of earlier in the evening. He'd slept with a lot of women, but now he finally understood the difference between sex for the sake of pleasure and sex as an expression of something deeper. There had been a profound emotional connection between him and Aislinn that he'd never experienced before. It was as if he'd finally come home to himself.

  He relaxed, picturing Aislinn's smile and hearing the soft lilt of her voice in his head. She was the one. And when the time was right, he'd tell her.

  *****

  “Padraig, when was the last time you checked Demelza's hooves?”

  It was 7 a.m., and Aislinn and Padraig were on their knees in the barn, trimming the flock's hooves. It was going swimmingly until Aislinn got to Dernelza, her eldest ewe.

  Grabbing her right front hoof, Aislinn saw immediately that the skin between Demelza's claws was red and swollen. Hoof rot Shite.

  There was no way Aislinn could or would leave this unchecked, as it could run rampant through her entire flock. She waited for Padraig to answer. It was his job to check the flock's hooves every three days, just as her father had once done.

  Padraig make a great show of looking thoughtful. "Let me see now. .

  Aislinn bit back her exasperation, trying not to sound accusatory. “You don't remember, do you?”

  “Ehm...”

  “It's okay,” she assured him, praying that the other sheep she hadn't seen yet weren't infected. As it was, she was going to have to use a different knife on the rest of the flock, burn Demelza's hoof trimmings, administer a vaccination, and give the whole flock a zinc sulfate footbath just to be safe.

  “Padraig?” she prompted gently.

  “I could have sworn I checked their hooves yesterday, darlin', truly. But maybe I forgot Demelza?” he offered lamely.

  “Maybe.” She patted his arm. “It's all right. We can handle it.”

  Aislinn wiped away the perspiration beading on her forehead, remembering her vow to keep Padraig on unless his forgetfulness became a liability. Perhaps she should take him to the local clinic and have them run some tests. There were pills now that could help with forgetfulness, weren't there? She glanced at the old man, who was gazing down at Demelza affectionately, and she felt a catch in her throat. Telling Padraig he had to retire ... no, she couldn't bear to think of it.

  She stifled a yawn as she got back to the business of hoof clipping. Ironically, after telling Liam she was a great one for sleep, she'd barely caught a wink. Contentedness had lost to elation; she was too fired up. The way he'd touched her... transcendent. Connor had never touched her that way. Of course, in retrospect that made sense, but being with Ham made her realize how much she'd been missing.

  “Someone was out dead late last night,” Padraig said with a sly chuckle.

  “And what were you doing up at that hour?” Aislinn demanded.

  “Listening to the radio. You know I can't sleep sometimes.”

  “You'll nap today at lunch, and that's an order.”

  “Take it you were out paradin' with that Yank.”

  "Paradin''?'

  “You know what I mean.”

  “We had a nice dinner, then stayed up late talking.” She looked away, suppressing a smile. One look in her eyes, and Padraig would know she was full of it.

  “I like him,” Padraig declared. “He's polite, and from what I hear from Jack, he's a hard worker. And I've always liked his people.”

  “Yes, the O'Briens are a very nice family.” Aislinn didn't really know them that well, though Erin was always nice to her when they were in school together, and she could tell Erin liked the way Aislinn was fearless in taking on the Holy Trinity of Arseholes. The Holy Trinity. Ha! Just wait till they found out she and Liam were a couple. That'd shut their gobs but good. Old Jack, too.

  They finished with the hooves at about eleven. Aislinn sent Padraig outside to burn Demelza's hoof trimmings while she gave the ewe a shot and prepared the footbath for the flock. A few minutes later, Padraig stuck his head in the barn door.

  “You won't ever believe what I just saw.”

  “What?”

  “Your sister and her jackeen of a husband roaming around outside. That's a new one, eh? How long has that British toff been coming here, and never caring one bit about the farm?”

  “They're both very stressed-out in their jobs,” Aislinn offered, though she agreed with Padraig that it was unusual.

  “Anyroad, he's tramping around out there in your dad's wellies,” Padraig harrumphed. “If you ask me, he's not fit to wear 'em, especially with the way he always treated your da.”

  “Too true.”

  It used to drive Aislinn crazy, the way Donald would talk down to her father like he was an idiot just because he was shepherd. But her father never returned fire. “I won't stoop to his level,” was what he'd say when Aislinn and her mother would implore him to blast Donald with both barrels. At least Nora had had the good sense to be embarrassed about it. The few times over the years Nora and Donald had graced them with their presence, Aislinn sometimes heard her chiding Donald after a family meal.

  They finished with the footbath, and Aislinn sent Padraig up to the house for his lunch and a lie down. When she came out of the barn, Nora and Donald were inspecting Padraig's cottage. Aislinn's chest tightened as she, with Deenie trotting beside her, went to join them.

  “Hello, Donald,” she said politely, kissing her brother-in-law on the cheek.

  “Hello.” was your drive up from Cork City?" Same as always.

  Whatever that means.

  Nora's face was disapproving as her eyes roamed over Padraig's cottage. “He's really let this place fall into disrepair. It used to be so beautiful. Like something from a postcard.”

&n
bsp; “It just needs a new paint job, and the windows could use a good wash. That's all.”

  “It's bigger than I thought,” Donald murmured,

  Aislinn's gut tightened. Please, dear God. don't let them suggest moving Padraig up to the house so that they can turn it into a guest cottage for themselves, now that they inexplicably seem to want to spend time at the farm. She'd go mad on both counts. She would.

  “How is Padraig doing today?” Nora asked with concern.

  “He's fine.”

  “Is he really?”

  “What do you care?” Aislinn found herself snapping. “You never gave a tinker's damn before: now all of a sudden you're concerned about someone you think hates you? You're a mystery, Nora, I'll give you that.”

  Donald was practically baring his teeth at her. “There's no need to get nasty.”

  Aislinn bared hers right back. “Begging your pardon, but I'm just not used to you two showing much interest in what goes on here.”

  “And I feel bad about that,” Nora shot back. There was a moment of tense silence until Nora's expression finally softened. “I'm trying to make amends, Aislinn. Trying to reconnect. Mum and Dad's death made me realize how important family really is. You're all I've got now. Can't you give me a chance?”

  Aislinn paused to rub away the tension that was making her forehead begin to pound. “I'm sorry. It's been a bit of a morning. Demelza has hoof rot, and it's a bit alarming.”

  “Hoof rot?” Donald looked revolted. “Sounds charming.”

  God, I wish you'd just disappear in a puff of smoke, you ponce.

  “You name your sheep?” he continued.

  “Of course we name the sheep,” Aislinn returned scornfully. “How else do you think we'd tell them apart?”

  “Ah. Good point.”

  Eejit

  Perhaps sensing Aislinn's growing impatience with her husband. Nora slipped an arm through hers and started walking her away. “Listen,” she said as they strolled in the direction of the house while Donald continued circling Padraig's cottage, “Donald and I are going down to the Oak tonight for a drink. Join us. That way I can show him your boyfriend.”