Straight Up

by Deirdre Martin

  So lovely, always so lovely and perfect, she thought as her mind danced round itself. She wanted him, but she was in no rush. Tonight she wanted their love to unfurl slowly, so slowly she'd be acutely aware of every sound made and every sensation felt. She could tell that Liam felt the same way: His hands were moving up and down her back lazily, his tongue dancing around hers languid and slow.

  His mouth moved to her throat, kissing sweetly, nipping lightly. “You always taste so good,” he whispered. Aislinn sighed, allowing herself to sink mindlessly into his touch, loving it as his mouth trailed lower to kiss her collarbone and then her breasts. She adored the way he was leisurely exploring her body, the care he seemed to be taking to know every inch of her skin. His touch was like magic; no matter where his hands were, no matter where his mouth went, golden pleasure prevailed.

  She was touching him, too, ever so lightly, her fingertips gliding over his smooth, warm skin. Up and down his back; along the sides of his muscled legs, all of it enhanced by an overwhelming sense of amazement. This is my husband. This is the man Fin going to spend the rest of my life making love to. Just thinking about it made her tremble with wonder and excitement.

  The touching between them bedazzled, aroused, layer upon layer of pleasure slowly being uncovered and treasured. Finally, Liam lifted his head, framing her face in his hands, his look so fiercely tender it took her breath away. “I want to be inside you.”

  “God, yes, please.”

  Aislinn gently rolled onto her back, watching him as he slowly eased between her legs, shivering at the sight of pure carnal pleasure that streaked across his handsome face as he began moving inside her. They moved slowly, never taking their eyes off one another. No need for words, she thought again as the rhythm between them grew steadily, like a lovely, unexpected rainstorm in the dead of summer that starts off as a drizzle and builds itself into a torrent: beautiful, pounding, washing away everything but that moment.

  Her husband.

  Straight Up

  Chapter Thirty-six

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

  Liam couldn't stop his jaw from dropping when a black stretch limo pulled up in front of the pub and out stepped PJ Leary. This was the guy who, a year ago, was dressed in threadbare clothing and ran up a tab at his parents' bar that Liam ignored because he knew the poor bastard couldn't afford it. Now he was a famous author: his book, The Wee Ones of Galway, was a worldwide bestseller. The last time Liam had called home, his brother Quinn told him PJ had sold the movie rights to Steven Spiel-berg for ungodly sums of money. Good for him, Liam thought.

  PJ looked like he'd just come off the beach in the Hamptons: chinos, topsiders, a starched white oxford shirt, a pink crewneck casually tied around his neck. A pair of expensive sunglasses perched on top of his head.

  “Liam!” There was a happy grin on PJ's face, and he drew Liam up into a friendly hug, clapping him on the back. “It's great to see you!”

  “You, too!” He gestured to Aislinn, who stood smiling beside him. “I want you to meet my wife, Aislinn.”

  She'd been nervous about meeting PJ. “I've never met someone famous before,” shed lamented. It had taken Liam showing her pictures on his computer of the down-and-out PJ of a year ago to convince her he was just a regular guy.

  “Pleased to meet you.” said PJ, shaking Aislinn's hand.

  “You, too,” said Aislinn, visibly relaxing. “I've heard a lot about you.”

  PJ chuckled. “Good things, I hope.”

  “Well, a few bad things.” Aislinn teased, “but we won't mention them.”

  “I couldn't believe it when your parents told me you got married,” he said to Liam in amazement. “Remarkable what can happen on a holiday, isn't it?”

  “Guess so,” said Liam, still grinning at the new PJ.

  PJ looked Liam up and down, sizing him up. “You look good. Married life suits you.”

  “It does,” Liam agreed. He and Aislinn had been married for two months, and so far, so good. They both had a tendency toward moodiness, and each had learned to give each other a wide berth when the other had a mood on. Liam liked to tease her that he was holding on to his flat above the Oak just in case she ever kicked him out in a fit of temper. He couldn't imagine that ever happening, though there were times when her mood truly did border on foul. That tended to happen on the weekends Nora showed up with Donald in tow. Liam himself had tried to talk some sense into Nora, trying to convince her there was no way Aislinn would ever turn the farm into some kind of B and B, but Nora wouldn't listen. She thought her presence would eventually wear Aislinn down. Actually, it was doing the opposite. Every time Nora showed up. Aislinn dug her heels in further, and her resentment grew. Nora was now beginning to piss Liam off, too.

  Liam glanced around the sidewalk. “Where's your publicist?”

  “I told her to go on ahead to Galway City, and I'd catch up with her tomorrow. She's been driving me crazy: it's like having a hyperactive, twittering bird around twenty-four /seven. I wanted to be able to relax and spend some time with you.”

  “Where are you staying tonight?”

  “In a hotel in Crosshaven.”

  “You most certainly are not,” declared Aislinn. “You'll stay up at the farm with us.”

  PJ looked touched. “That would be wonderful.”

  “I can drive you up to Galway City tomorrow,” Liam offered.

  “You've always been a good sort,” said PJ affectionately, “despite your reputation.”

  Aislinn lifted her eyebrows questioningly. “And what reputation would that be?”

  “You know, moody bad boy,” said PJ with a wink.

  “She knows all about that. Besides, that's when I was a teenager,” Liam pointed out. “I haven't been bad in a very long time.”

  “Still moody, though,” Aislinn noted.

  Liam tugged a lock of her hair. “Look's who's talking.” He glanced behind him at the limo driver, still sitting in the car. "Is this guy -?”

  “Well, he's supposed to stick around and wait for me so he can drive me to Crosshaven and then Galway, but I guess I can let him go now,” said PJ. He explained the situation to the driver, who got out to fetch PJ's bags from the trunk before he started carrying copies of PJ's books inside.

  “You don't have to do that,” PJ told hint “My friend Liam here and I can do it.”

  The driver looked grateful. “Thank you. I guess I'll see tomorrow in Galway, Mr. Leary.”

  “Call me PJ. Please. Drive safe, Timothy.”

  The driver nodded and got back in the car, pulling away from the curb smoothly.

  “Seems like a nice guy,” Liam noted.

  “Very nice.”

  Liam bent and picked up a stack of PJ's books. “Shall we? I think the eager hordes will be arriving soon, wanting to meet the famous writer.”

  “I'm still pinching myself,” PJ said humbly and followed Liam inside.

  *****

  What the feck is he goin' on about with this army of leprechauns shite?"

  Liam discreetly shushed Old Jack as he himself feigned intense interest while PJ read from his book. Just as Liam remembered, the book seemed to focus on a long-running battle between a legion of leprechauns and some magical talking salmon. Liam wasn't big on books, but PJ was a very dramatic reader, and judging from the rapt attention of everyone in the pub, it seemed likely he might sell every copy of his magnum opus, which were stacked high on one of the tables near the fireplace for the book signing after the reading.

  “Look, I need to talk to you about something,” said Jack, low.

  Liam rolled his eyes as Jack led him into the small alcove behind the bar. “What's up?”

  “Bettina and I are going on holiday in a month.”

  “Oh, where?”

  “Torremolinos. She's been on me for ages about it. Anyway, we'll be gone about two weeks. Do you think you can handle the bar on your own?”


  Liam pursed his lips. “Prob... ably.”

  Jack looked irritated. “I suppose I could get in Jake Fry to help you out, if you don't think you can man it alone. He's got a bit of experience.”

  “That would be good.”

  “All right,” Jack grumbled.

  "You cheap bastard! You want me to do it alone so you don't have to pay anyone else!”

  “Of course I don't. D'ya think I'm made of money?”

  “More than you let on, I know that much.” He patted Jack's shoulder. C’mon, we can talk about this some other time. I want to listen to my friend read."

  “Talking fish,” Liam heard Jack mutter behind him. “God help us all.”

  *****

  God, I’m stuffed.

  Liam smiled as PJ patted his belly. The two of them were sitting on the bench in the mudroom, pulling on their shoes so they could take an early morning walk around the farm. Aislinn had already been up and working for a couple of hours. Liam had drifted in and out of sleep after she left their bed, but when he heard PJ moving around at about six thirty, he decided he'd get up and make his friend a big breakfast before he drove him to Galway. Liam was glad when PJ said he wanted to take a stroll before the drive. It was a gorgeous day, and he knew the pride Aislinn took in the farm. She'd be pleased to see Liam out there showing him around, especially since they hadn't been able to do it last night.

  He took PJ up to the highest meadow first, the one where Aislinn had been mending fences the first time he ventured up to the house. The memory made him chuckle. She'd been so gruff and dismissive with him, and now look at them: married.

  PJ did a slow, three hundred and sixty degree turn as he took in the breathtaking panorama of green stretching as far as the eye could see. “This is amazing. Is it all Aislinn's?”

  “Most of it.” He pointed down and to the left to an old stone wall that was so far away it looked like a thin gray ribbon. “That's where the neighbors' farm starts.”

  “Are they sheep farmers, too?”

  “Dairy.”

  PJ looked entranced. “You're lucky to be surrounded by all this. You know that, don't you?”

  Liam forced a pained smile.

  “Homesick?” PJ guessed.

  “Yeah,” Liam said quietly.

  “So take your bride home for a visit! Is it a money issue? Because if it is -”

  “No, no, nothing like that.”

  “Then what?” PJ pressed.

  Liam shrugged. “It's just a matter of timing,” he said evasively. “I'd have to work it out far in advance with Jack, Aislinn would have to get someone to fill in for her, stuff like that. We'll get over there soon, don't worry.”

  “You better. Your mother's going to lose her mind if you don't. She can't wait to meet Aislinn.”

  “I think they'll get along, don't you?” said Liam as he began leading PJ to a neighboring pasture.

  “Two headstrong Irish women? Could be trouble.”

  Liam laughed. “All the Irish women I know are headstrong. I think it will be fine. What about you, Mister Bestseller? You seeing anyone?”

  “Not right now.” He paused thoughtfully. “You know what depresses me? I couldn't get a woman to give me the time of day when I was poor. But now that I'm rich, they're flitting all around me like moths to a flame.”

  “They say money is the ultimate aphrodisiac, right?”

  “Apparently.” PJ kicked a stone. “Well, we'll see. I'm pretty content on my own. Always have been.”

  They made their way down to the far meadow below the house, where Padraig's cottage sat. PJ started to circle it, then stopped. “Sorry,” he said apologetically. “Someone must live here.”

  “Unfortunately, it's empty. Padraig, the guy who used to help Aislinn's family on the farm, lived here, but he died a little while ago.” PJ stared at the cottage for a long time. “Do you think Aislinn would sell it to me?”

  Liam didn't know what to say. "Uh...

  “One of my fantasies has always been to have a place in Ireland - not year round, just summers; a place where I could escape for a couple of months to relax and write.” He put his hands on his waist, drawing in and blowing out a deep breath as he surveyed the hills and pastures. “This is perfect. The cottage is perfect, the setting is perfect.”

  “I - you should talk to Aislinn,” Liam managed. He felt like someone had just clocked him in the head with a brick. This was not a conversation he ever imagined having in a million years.

  “I'd pay whatever she wanted.”

  “Talk to Aislinn,” Liam repeated.

  “Now?”

  “Yeah, why not? This isn't the kind of thing she'd want to discuss over the phone.” He had visions of delivering PJ to Aislinn and then making a run for it. He did not want to be there when Pi told her he wanted to buy some of her precious land.

  “All right,” said PJ. “Let's go talk to her.”

  *****

  No no no no. That was Aislinn's first instinct when Liam ambled across the road with PJ, and PJ told her he was interested in purchasing Padraig's cottage. Actually, her first instinct was to kill Liam. Surely he knew what her reaction would be, but he'd brought his friend over here anyway, and now she was going to have to tell the man she'd no interest.

  But then she began thinking about it. He'd only be around in the summer, and it wasn't like they'd have to entertain him, though she was sure they'd have him up for supper sometimes.

  “How much were you thinking of spending?” she asked PJ casually. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the shocked expression on Liam's face. Clearly he had thought he was bringing an innocent lamb to the slaughter, but he'd done it anyway.

  “Name your price.”

  Aislinn pulled an outrageous figure out of the air.

  “Are you sure you're not selling yourself short because I'm a friend of Liam's family?” PJ asked. “Because I wouldn't want you to do that.”

  Aislinn nearly choked. Selling herself short? She'd named such an exorbitant number she was sure PJ would just laugh and say thanks, but no thanks.

  “No, I'm not selling myself short.”

  “All right, then,” said PJ. “Sold.”

  Aislinn felt her stomach flip. “You know what? Would you mind if I spoke to a local estate agent and got an appraisal? Because I'd hate to overcharge you: it wouldn't be right.”

  “Fair enough,” said PJ. “We'll be in touch, shall we? I'll be in Galway for three days.”

  “I'm sure we'll be able to discuss it by late tomorrow or the following morning at the latest.”

  PJ opened his arms wide for a hug. “It was great meeting you, Aislinn. I look forward to us being neighbors, at least in the summer.”

  Aislinn swallowed. “Yes.” Did she really want to do this?

  She kissed Liam. “Get him there in one piece, would you?”

  “I'm not the lunatic driver in this family.” He turned to PJ. “Shall we?”

  “Onward and upward.”

  Aislinn watched them walk back across the street, Liam looking over his shoulder once to give her a What the hell was that about? look.

  She smiled at him.

  “Trust me.” she mouthed.

  Straight Up

  Chapter Thirty-seven

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

  “All right, what have you done with my wife?”

  Liam was only half joking as he strode into the barn. Driving PJ up to Galway had taken longer than he thought, and he wound up speeding all the way home, not that anyone else on the road seemed to care. He told himself it was because he wanted to make sure he wasn't late for work, but really, he was itching to know what the hell was going through Aislinn's mind when she'd agreed to think about selling the cottage to Pi.

  Aislinn was on her knees, giving an injection to a small lamb, who was panting heavily. “There you go,” she soothed, as the animal scrambled back to its feet and made
a beeline for its mother. Aislinn put the syringe back in the pocket of her barn jacket and turned around, smiling at the sound of Liam's voice.

  “What did you say?”

  "I said, what have you done with my wife? Clearly you're an imposter. The woman I married would never, ever entertain an offer to buy some of her land. Ever.

  “The woman you married might just be a genius."

  "I'm listening.

  They sat down together on a big bale of straw. “After you left. I rang Carole Brown, the local estate agent, and she came over to give me an estimate for what she thought Padraig's cottage and the lower meadows would go for. My teeth almost fell out of my head when she told me.” She put her arm through Liam's. “Here's my idea,” she stage-whispered. “I sell the cottage and land to PJ, and then give Nora the money in return for her share of the farm.” Aislinn looked excited. “It's a ton of money, Liam! More than enough for her and Donald to go buy some B and B in England or do whatever the hell they want to do. They get to pursue their dream. I get to keep my farm, everyone's happy.”

  “Look, I don't want to rain on your parade,” Liam said carefully, “but what if she doesn't go for it?”

  “Then we split the money on the sale of the cottage and the land, and she can spend the rest of her days trying to talk me into turning this place into a B and B, which is never going to happen.”

  Liam nodded slowly. “It could work. Is she coming in this weekend?”

  “Yes. I think she's getting in tomorrow morning. Hopefully we can get this hammered out as soon as possible.”

  “Will His Lordship be with her?”

  Aislinn chuckled. “You're getting as bad as Bettina. I'm not sure.”

  Liam looked round the barn, listening to the chattering of the starlings that nested in the high beams. Aislinn seemed not to notice them, but he was still struck by the sound every time he walked in here. It was part of the soundtrack of his wife's life: the sounds of the barn, the wind in the trees, the baaing of the flock ... Nora's plan was hopeless. Aislinn would never let strangers come in here to watch her work and bombard her with questions, ruining her peace.