by KT Webb
As soon as I get to my cottage, I grab a few steaks from the fridge and put the stove on low to let them simmer. It doesn’t take long for me to throw the appropriate items in a duffel bag, and I’m completely packed when Blake arrives.
“Smells delicious in here,” she tells me breathlessly.
She seems a little hesitant, as though she isn’t sure how to behave now. I’m going to have to do everything in my power to show her that this wasn’t meant to be a one-night stand. I want Blake Molloy, body and soul.
“Do you need any help?” She asks, still unsure of herself.
I turn off the stove and walk up to her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this nervous. The Blake I’ve come to know is bold and unafraid.
“Hey, what are you thinking?” I ask as I pull her into my arms.
“I don’t know. Call me stupid, but I’m terrified you’re going to turn out to be one of those guys who gets what he wants then walks away,” she bites her bottom lip when she finishes spilling out the words.
I gently place a finger under her chin and lift her face, so she’s looking into my eyes. “Blake, I want so much more than one night with you. And while tonight was incredible, I want more than just your body.”
Blake offers a small smile in response and stands on her toes to kiss me. I don’t even know how to process how it feels to kiss her and see that she could be mine. I can’t mess this up. A little voice in the back of my head reminds me that I’m not the one who messed things up with Madigan either.
“I roasted some potatoes and green beans to go with this, they’re in the oven. If you’d like to pull those out, I’ll get our plates and utensils,” I swat her delectable ass as she walks past me. “The hot pads are in that drawer next to the stove.”
It’s effortless. We gather everything we need for dinner and sit across from each other at my kitchen table. Our dinner conversation is limited, as we both practically inhale the food. We’ve worked up healthy appetites with our early evening activities.
“Will you stay here with me tonight?”
“If you want me to,” Blake’s eyes travel from my face down the length of my body.
“Are you ogling me? I’m not a piece of meat, you already had your steak!” I feign distaste as she giggles.
I take her hand as though I’m going to lead her to the bedroom. Blake follows with no resistance, her eyes hungry for more. I can feel my body responding to that look in her eyes in a primal way, so I don’t hesitate any further. I hoist her over my shoulder and carry her to my bed. Her laughter echoes in my sparse room. I strip down to my boxers and climb into the bed with her.
“It’s a little early for us to go to sleep, don’t you think, Mr. Fitzpatrick?”
“Definitely too early for that, Ms. Molloy,” I answer as my nob starts to respond to the thoughts going through my mind.
“What did you have in mind?”
My lips find hers, and I pour every bit of myself into showing her what I’m not ready to say. Blake responds in kind, and we begin our second vigorous make-out session of the night. Our hands roam over each other’s bodies, leaving no crevice unexplored. This time, neither of us hesitates as things begin to heat up. Everything about this feels right.
When we wake in the morning, I’m relieved to see a text from Pat telling me there’s no news and to go ahead and get out of town. He also insisted that I show Blake a “good time” and made it perfectly clear he meant it as an innuendo.
We feel like we’re sneaking around as Blake texts Molly to let her know she’ll be MIA for the next few days. Of course, our friends know we’ll be together, but they don’t understand how together we are. For now, it’s our secret. We don’t want to answer any questions, we just want to spend time together. I can’t wait to show her Menlo Castle.
Our road trip begins by heading directly for Clonmacnoise. I told her I’d take her there, and I’m excited for her to experience the history there. As we drive, Blake reaches over and holds my hand. I interlace our fingers and give her hand a gentle squeeze. When I glance over at her, she’s looking out the window, completely at ease. If she’s so comfortable, why am I a nervous wreck? It’s not like I’m not confident that she has feelings for me too, she’s more than proven she’s interested. When she turns to see me watching her, she offers me a wide smile. She’s so damn cute.
When we arrive at Clonmacnoise, we settle in to watch the informative video, then I take her through the exhibits indoors. The site was home to St. Ciaran and one of the earliest Christian settlements in Ireland. The three high crosses that once stood outside are now at the center of each exhibit inside. Wind and rain had been wearing down the stone monuments for centuries. In order to preserve them, they were moved indoors. Now, replicas are placed where the original crosses stood. When it’s time to go out and walk amongst the ancient graves and building ruins, Blake retakes my hand.
“This place is breathtaking, Gannon,” she whispers in awe.
“It really is. The history here is so heavy you can practically feel it in the air around us.”
It’s one of those places where you instinctively feel the need to be as quiet as possible. Whether you’re inclined to do so out of respect for the rich history or out of respect for the souls who have their final resting places in the graveyard doesn’t matter. I explain some of the critical things to watch for about the slab gravestones that date as far back as the 10th century. Blake is enjoying trying to decipher the ancient scrawling on each stone.
“Follow me, I want to show you something special,” I guide her toward my favorite part of Clonmacnoise.
We walk directly to the church ruins that still hold the original stone to mark the burial place of Saint Ciaran himself. The stone is weathered and impossible to read. Despite extensive excavations, no remains have been found in the ruins. But many still firmly believe Saint Ciaran to be buried there and make a pilgrimage to the site along the Pilgrim Path.
“This is incredible!” Blake tells me as she leans in to get a closer look at the stone.
Once Blake is satisfied she’s seen it from every angle, we continue our walk through the grounds. The expression on her face the entire time is one that I can only imagine has been reflected on mine since I realized how I really feel about her. Pure, undiluted awe. The fact that she appreciates the historical aspects of Ireland only makes her more attractive to me.
“Thank you for bringing me here, I had no idea this place even existed!” Blake says when we are on our way back to the truck.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Next stop? The Cliffs of Moher! Hopefully, it’s as clear on the coast as it is here today. You get the best views when there aren’t low-hanging clouds.”
We start heading west, toward one of the most visited sites in Ireland. The drive alone is worth the view. Rolling fields of green, dotted with sheep and cows are only interrupted by small villages here and there. Of course, once we arrive in Limerick, I take her to my favorite café, Nelly’s Corner.
“This place is adorable,” Blake gushes as we choose a table.
She’s right. The atmosphere is very quaint. When I was a boy, my father brought me here a few times when we were on weekend holidays. His favorite part about the place was the American music they played. I don’t know if Johnny Cash is really Blake’s style, so I’m not going to point it out until she does. The waitress takes our order, and I’m not surprised in the least when Blake orders some fancy coffee loaded with cream and sugar.
“What?” She asks before sticking her tongue out at me because she knows why I’m chuckling at her.
“Oh, nothing, just wondering when you’re going to have enough coffee in your system.”
Blake considers my comment for a moment, “Hmm, I hadn’t really thought about it. Probably not until all my blood is replaced by it.”
I laugh openly as our drinks arrive. Carefree Blake is probably my favorite. She’s confident, witty, and snarky; I love it. She doesn’t have a worry in the wo
rld right now.
“Are there a lot of places that play American music? I mean, not that I have an issue with Johnny Cash, but I’ve heard this song all my life. I’d rather experience some Irish culture,” Blake says quietly so as not to offend any of our fellow diners.
“Actually, there are quite a few who prefer this style. It’s trendy here,” I reply, tapping my foot to the beat.
Blake shrugs as though she can’t be too bothered with anything as long as she has pancakes in front of her. After we pay for our meal, I lead her across the street to see St. Mary’s Cathedral. If she was wowed by the cemetery at Clonmacnoise, she will undoubtedly find something that impresses her here. The stones aren’t as old, so she’ll be able to read the dates and names on some of them. As we wander between the grave markers, Blake stops to read some of the oldest she finds.
“Oh!” She puts her hand over her mouth.
“What?” I ask, looking closely at the stone she’s standing over.
A wrought-iron gate keeps onlookers from getting close enough to do any damage to the stone. I scan the words engraved there and understand what has her so surprised. The grave is a marker for unknown orphans who died without names or parents many years ago. I can’t imagine how it must have felt to know that no one wanted you, right up until the day you died. I slip my arm around Blake’s shoulders and pull her closer.
“That breaks my heart. Those poor children. And for there to be so many that this stone is only erected in their memory but doesn’t actually mark the place of their burial is just awful.”
Tears are glistening in her eyes. How did I get so lucky to cross paths with a woman like this? I’ll have to thank my mum one day for forcing me to pick her up from the Dublin airport. I don’t know if we would have grown to be close friends without the experiences we shared in Dublin. Blake gave me a glimpse into who she is and what she values on that very first day; now, I can’t imagine living my life without her in it. Maybe I should just tell her the word that’s been rolling around in my mind since the day I saw Madigan and finally realized the nature of my feelings for Blake. I think I’ve fallen in love with Blake, but a graveyard doesn’t feel like the right place to tell her. Not to mention how petrified I am to put my heart on the line for anyone ever again.
Instead of sharing my feelings, I lift her chin, wiping the solitary tear from her cheek, and guide her lips to mine. If I can’t say it out loud, I can say it by pouring my body and soul into every moment with her.
We arrive at the Cliffs of Moher early in the afternoon. Thankfully, the sky is blue, and very few clouds dot the horizon. We’ll have a clear view of the cliffs today. After we park, I grab a backpack, which contains a few water bottles, snacks, and a sweatshirt for each of us. It’s quite the hike to walk all the way along the cliffs, and I have no idea just how adventurous she’s feeling today.
Blake is sensible. She knew we’d be doing plenty of walking today and dressed accordingly. Her skin-tight gray leggings and t-shirt are paired with comfortable trainers. Keeping my hands off her is already a problem, now I’m going to have to try to be more discreet about giving in to temptation.
As soon as we reach the first summit that offers a view of the cliffs, Blake is bouncing up and down like an excited puppy. Feckin' adorable. I’m almost as excited as she is, only because I feel like I see it through her eyes.
“Are we going up the steep hill to see it from higher up?”
I chuckle at her excitement, “Yes, of course.”
Blake practically runs ahead of me, sprinting up the hill at a pace I certainly do not possess myself. The best part is that I get a full view of how good her ass looks in those leggings. As a result of that view, I keep a pace that ensures I’m behind her the whole way. When we reach the top of the hill, we’re both panting. I’d love to be out of breath with her for a completely different reason.
Wow, so I go more than eight years without sex, and suddenly, twice in less than twenty-four hours isn’t enough for me? Blake gestures for me to turn around so she can get inside the backpack. She hands me my water bottle before opening hers and taking a swig. The breeze from the ocean keeps the temperatures lower at the cliffs. That lower temperature combined with the crispness of mid-March means neither of us is sweaty despite our exertion.
“Can we go by the edge?” Blake surveys the ocean with interest.
“Yes, but please be careful. I can’t tell you how many tourists fall to their deaths because they want to literally live on the edge.”
“Take a picture with me!”
For the first time since I’ve known her, Blake turns her camera on selfie mode and pulls me into the frame. My smile is genuine, we both look ecstatic. The picture captures her excitement and my complete enthrallment with the beautiful girl who swooped into my life unexpectedly.
I’m surprised by the lack of tourists out today. Other than a few people passing here and there, we’re utterly alone. I take the opportunity to let my hand wander from her waist down to her ass. The leggings she chose are soft and smooth under my hand; fabric hugs her curves in an intoxicating way. I hear her breathing hitch as my hand goes from gently caressing her butt cheeks to exploring between her legs.
Blake looks at me with dark, hungry eyes. That look is almost my undoing. If there weren’t other people around, I would be tempted to make love to her right here.
“Are you wearing any knickers, Ms. Molloy?” My eyebrow arches suggestively.
A slight blush creeps onto her face, “I’m pretty sure you can determine that for yourself.”
Fuck. I kiss her roughly, desperate to make her mine in every possible way. Blake returns my kiss with equal fervor. Damn, this woman has me in the palm of her hands.
Holy shit. I’m making out with a sexy as fuck Irishman on the Cliffs of Moher. If we weren’t in public, I would do things to him that would probably make my mother blush. Gannon has no idea what he does to me. If he did, I’m pretty sure we’d never leave the bedroom. Even though I don’t want to stop kissing him, I know we’re not exactly alone on this hike.
As if to prove my point, someone clears their throat nearby. I open one eye to find an adorable old woman with a fanny pack and a kitten sweatshirt standing a few feet away, covering her husband’s eyes. I can’t stop the giggle that bubbles up in my chest. Our kiss ends, and Gannon sees what made me pull away. Now we’re both looking a little sheepish at having been caught.
After the couple leaves, we both fall into a fit of laughter. Gannon takes my hand and leads me further up the incline toward the highest point. The view is incredible, the cliffs are lovely too. Don’t get me wrong, I’m in complete awe of the scenery. The crystal blue water crashing into the rocks far below at the base of the cliffs, the brilliant green grass that abruptly ends, falling into nothingness. But, right now, I’m enjoying the fact that I get to stare at Gannon’s ass, and no one is going to care. I have no idea how either of us is going to be able to behave until we reach wherever it is that Gannon has us booked for the next few nights.
We continue to walk along the edge of the cliffs, stopping to take in the beauty of nature as we go. The fact that I’m living in Ireland sneaks up on me sometimes. Baldwin helped me fill out the paperwork to apply for citizenship last week. I had a checklist of items I would need, most of which I brought with me because everything I own came here with me. It was much easier than I thought it would be because both of my grandparents were born in Ireland and maintained their Irish citizenship. Now, I just have to wait to find out if any further action is needed or for the official word that I’m approved to become an Irish citizen.
I can’t help but feel a little guilty about running off for a romantic getaway with Gannon when I haven’t done what my grandpa sent me for. I’m making progress, and I know that’s okay. With everything I’ve got to accomplish, I know it’s going to take more than the time I’ve been here to get everything ironed out. Besides, grandpa wanted me to find myself here, and for the first time in a
long time, I finally feel like me again. Not just because of my feelings for Gannon, but because I’m really able to feel free in Ireland.
No one from my family has tried to get in contact with me since I moved here. Granted, none of them have my new phone number. One of the first things I did was cancel my cell phone service through America and get a new phone plan here in Ireland. The only people who have my number here are the ones I give it to, and that’s been limited to Gannon, Molly, Baldwin, Pat, Roald, Cade, and Aoife. They’re the only people who have any reason to contact me now.
“Are you okay?” Gannon pulls me from my thoughts.