by Allison Parr
He slowly stepped back and pulled the door open in clear invitation.
My arm brushed his as I entered. I felt the touch with the sharpness of an electric shock—except this awareness felt good, exciting. Still, I felt almost shy as he closed the door, and the room seemed to fill with possibilities.
I sat back in the mint green armchair. My tongue darted out and wet my lips, and his eyes fell to them. I swallowed, and his gaze traced my throat.
And then I broke the mood by saying, “I talked to your sister today.”
His expression cleared. “Which one?”
“Lauren.” I paused. Now that I’d opened the conversation I didn’t know where to take it. “About, uh, about Kilkarten.”
He groaned. “Seriously?”
“It just sort of came up.” I licked my lips nervously. “It kind of occurred to me that all three of you siblings own the land.”
“So?”
“So... Why didn’t you discuss it with them?”
“Look, all three of us need to sign for you to excavate there. Since I already knew I wouldn’t, it was a moot point.”
“Yeah, but... There are two of them.”
“This isn’t a democracy.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Do they know that?”
He took a step closer to me. “What are you doing here, Natalie?”
I had to crane my neck back to see his face. “What do you mean?”
“You did knock on my door. Was it to try to change my mind about Kilkarten?”
My breath came short and fast. “I wanted to talk.”
“You talked. Now what?” He braced himself against the armchair’s wings and angled his upper body toward mine. “Are you going to tell me that you should go?”
My mind blanked and I could barely consider his last words. Instead of thoughts, emotions filled me, warmth and want and joy, so powerful they drowned everything else out. I curled my legs beneath me so I could rise to meet him. He slid his hand around the back of my neck, leaned down and kissed me.
I wrapped my arms around him and leaned up into the kiss. He was warm and bright and untamed, and heat unfurled deep in my belly, spreading like wildfire all through my body. It consumed me, urged me closer to him, striking up a conflagration of desire that would destroy us both.
Which was why I had to draw back. I braced my hands against his chest and looked down. My breath came hard and fast from two sources of adrenaline. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
He lifted my chin and kissed my jawline. His breath sent shivers down my spine. “It’s a great idea.”
It was very hard to think with those warm, large hands slipping under my shirt and caressing my waist. Calloused finger pads dragged over sensitive skin. I sucked in a deep breath as his thumb stroked under my belly button. “Mike.” A shudder of pleasure shook me, and then I drew back. “I’m just not sure...because of Kilkarten.”
Now he drew away. “Why are we still talking about this?”
I shifted. “I don’t know. What if something changes?”
“What do you mean, ‘something’? Nothing’s changing. You’re not digging there.” His expression shifted to horror. “Wait, you don’t think that if you slept with me I’d let you excavate—”
“No!” I broke in, hot with embarrassment. He kept staring at me like I’d honestly just offered to prostitute myself. “No, I told you. I talked to your sisters, and they seem in favor of the excavation.”
“And I told you, this isn’t a democracy.”
I shrugged. “I just don’t want to make things messy.”
He lifted my chin. “Hey. Do you like me?”
I nodded as much as I could with his hand holding my head up.
“Good. Because I like you. So why can’t we just focus on that?”
“Because things don’t exist in a vacuum.”
“Can’t we say this room does?”
His eyes were so warm, so pleading, and filled with such heart that I had to close my own to shut them out. But deprived of one sense made me all too aware of the others, of his fingers slowly stroking my jaw, of his scent enveloping me. My body wanted to wrap around his. So, I was afraid, did part of my heart.
My brain was another story. “I should—”
“I know.” He withdrew, and the air around me went cold.
And then I left.
* * *
I spent the next morning talking with some neighbors that Maggie O’Connor had sent me pointers to, people whose farms bordered Kilkarten. They were lovely, interesting people, with wonderful stories, none of which included finding Iron Age artifacts on their lands—or even hearing any rumors about ancient Ireland.
I’d just wrapped up my last interview when Mike ducked his head into the library, where I’d been holding them. His brow looked tense. “There you are. Up for a run?”
“Now?”
“Now,” he said shortly. “I’ll be warming up outside until you’re ready.”
My brows rose at his curtness, but I headed for my room. It only took a few minutes before I was back downstairs, hair up in a ponytail, my Archaeologists Do It in the Dirt shirt pulled on. That made Mike groan. “Now you’re just taunting me.”
“It’s a very comfortable shirt.” I did one or two hamstring stretches before he kicked off. After a startled second I caught up to him. “Oh, hey. Thanks for waiting for me to warm up.”
“No problem.”
His strides were longer than mine, but he held back enough that I could keep up without dying. I rarely ran with other people, since I usually used the time to work through whatever issue I was dealing with, but I liked running with Mike. I liked the way our legs and breathing aligned, and how I could glance over and see his strong profile and the fine sheen on his skin whenever I wanted. I could’ve looked forever, if I wasn’t afraid of tripping.
We hit the coastal path and turned north. Stone stairs cut into the rising land, which fell away beside us in a sharp drop to the sea. Instead of the fields and long grasses to the south, we hit bushes heavy with yellow and orange flowers. They mixed with the sea air, making the oxygen fresh and bright.
The stairs brought us to a winding path at the edge of a cliff. It was barely wide enough for two abreast, and wound and bumped too much for a flat out run. Prickly yellow bushes crowded us on one side and short trees with wide leaves lined the other. I ducked my head under a low hanging branch.
When we started up a hill, I slowed. He came up beside me as our rate decreased, until we finally topped the crest and stopped by mutual agreement. Yellow flowers spread out on three sides, the blue above us skewing into gray over the water. My breaths came long and deep, and I could taste the wind in the back of my throat. I leaned my head toward the sky, cracking my shoulders as I raised my arm and circled my neck, and then fell into my stretches. “Okay. What’s up?”
He dropped into a lunge. “I’m a professional athlete. Got to stay in shape.”
I shook my head and sat down, curling my right leg as I extended my left, and bending in half at my waist to touch my forehead to the ground. “I’m not buying it.”
When I straightened, I found him watching me with that perfect crooked grin.
I raised my brows at him.
He shrugged unabashedly.
“Hmph.” In that case, he was just asking to be teased. I split my legs open and touched my forehead straight down in front of me.
Mike groaned.
I grinned as blades of grass tickled my nose, twisting my hands around my ankles. I knew starting something with Mike was a bad idea, but I wanted him so much that I didn’t mind making him want me.
I unfolded and smiled at him. He shook his head. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”
“I shouldn’t, should I? But it’s turning out to be a lot of fun.”
He grinned at the sky. It was such a gorgeous, relaxed expression that I could feel my heart tumbling all over itself, which wasn’t a good sign. “We went to s
ee Maggie and Paul today.”
Ah. So that was what had put him in a mood. “How was it?”
“Mom and Maggie were weird, just like they were yesterday.”
“Do you know what their deal is?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think they’ve even met before this week.”
“So why would they dislike each other? Do you think it’s the same thing that estranged the brothers?”
He tilted his head as he considered it. “Like maybe she’s pissed on Patrick’s behalf? I don’t know... It seems weirdly personal.”
“Aren’t you curious? Old family secrets to uncover...”
He shot me a pointed look. “Not all of us dig just for dirt.”
I raised a brow. “No, some of us dig for the reality buried beneath it.”
He studied me with those steady brown eyes. I wondered if the reason he smiled all the time was to distract people from how much he watched them.
Then the intensity felt too intimate, and I turned away. “So what else happened? Your sisters met Paul?”
He watched me a brief moment more, and then switched gears to an irritated scoff. “Yeah, and fucking Paul made a pass at Lauren.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “I told you he was bad news, didn’t I.”
I held in a laugh. “Some people don’t actually mind being flirted with.”
“Anna also said that he was hot.”
The laugh burst out. “Well, she had a point.”
Now I had Mike’s full attention. “You don’t think Paul’s hot.”
I shrugged mischievously. “Dark good looks... Has that Irish brogue.”
Mike snorted. “You’re all crazy.”
I couldn’t resist needling him a little further, even though I didn’t actually find his cousin’s angry angst that attractive. “Cam—my best friend—and I even came up with an Operation Irish Boyfriend, and I’d say Paul’s a pretty good candidate.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He smirked at me. “Besides, if that’s all you’re looking for...”
Energy sizzled through me. I sucked in a deep breath and then tried to play it off casually. “You don’t have the accent.”
He faked one immediately. “Come on, love. Give a bloke a chance.”
My breath caught and my cheeks flushed, but not at the accent. No, it was Michael O’Connor calling me “love” that made my pulse race.
He scowled. “Unless you have something against redheads?”
I reached out and touched an auburn curl. “Not at all.”
He looked up at me and I realized how close we stood. I cleared my throat and stepped back. “So did you say anything when Anna mentioned Paul’s attractiveness?”
“I got in trouble because I said, ‘Don’t you have a boyfriend?’ and she got all pissed and ran off. Apparently they broke up because I made her come to Ireland.”
I smiled up at him. He looked kind of adorable when he was worked up over his sisters. “I take it you find fault with that version of the story?”
“Lauren’s the one who insisted we come. Called me up the second Patrick kicked the bucket and demanded I call it in as a family death to Coach and we take a vacation. Besides, it’s good for Anna to be away from him.”
I raised my brows. “You ever get tired of trying to control people?”
He sat up. “Not like it ever works.”
I rolled over. “You shouldn’t, you know. With your family.”
“Thank you,” he said dryly. “For that solicited and appreciated piece of advice. And I support them, I don’t control them.”
“Even your mom? Or do you have a tendency to forget she’s the parent?”
“I’m an adult. I should contribute.”
“And let me guess. You’ve been an adult since your dad died. You don’t have to try so hard to be perfect.”
He looked out at the sea. “That’s where you’re wrong. I just left. I wasn’t perfect at all.”
So he felt like he’d abandoned them after his father’s death and tried to sooth it over with money. God, families were the worst. I plucked up a flower and tugged off its petals. “My dad used to take me to Leopards’ games.”
“What?”
I scooted so I also faced the water. Above us, birds cried out, swooping and diving through the air. “He was always in such a good mood. Football was so unlike the rest of my life...where everything was quiet and tense, and if people were angry they wouldn’t talk about it. At games, guys would just beat the hell out of one another. It was very...cathartic.”
I shook my head. “I thought the game was wonderful. Dad would get so worked up. I’m sure you know. I remember—I must have been twelve, thirteen—he picked me up and whirled me around in the air. The whole stadium turned before me. That’s what I always associated football with. Magic.” Warmth.
“Do you still go with him?”
“Oh, no. It wasn’t really about us. It was really him and my brothers, and I tagged along.”
“The thing that you said wasn’t really a big deal.”
“Right.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Shocked, I turned to face him. He’d sat forward, propping his elbows on his knees, while his arms hung loosely between them. He had the same intensity as when we’d first met and he’d denied me Kilkarten, an intensity I never would’ve imagined just from seeing him on the screen. I slowly raised my gaze to his. “Why not?”
He shrugged. “You didn’t want to go home in New York. You don’t want to have a home. You’re bitter about your family.”
I stared at him, stunned. “And apparently I talk too much.”
He laughed. “So? You know all about my family. Now it’s your turn.”
What did I say to that? I took a deep breath, feeling wobbly and light. “I had a great childhood. Everything I ever needed. Everything anyone could want.”
“But...?”
I shrugged. “My brothers are great. Peter’s married and lives in DC, and Quinn travels almost as much as I do. Evan—he’s only three years older—lives in New York, though. But I always feel like I want to see them more than they want to see me.”
“But you’re clearly not happy.”
A small butterfly, with the coloring of a Monarch but different patterns, fluttered nearby, coming to rest on a purple thistle. Tiny blue dots fringed its wings. “Well. My brothers—half brothers—don’t get along with our dad. He left their mom. And he’s not easy to like—stiff and stuck up and homophobic, even though he pretends he’s not, but he and Evan barely talk anymore. But I didn’t know how non-functional we were when I was little. I just knew how happy I was at the games.”
He twisted to look at me, a thinking smile on his lips. “Do you think my family’s functional?”
I nodded. “And warm. Angry, sometimes, but at least they’re not cold. And they like you. Isn’t that what this is about? Lauren said she wanted to come here to bond. They probably just want to spend time with you, not spend your money.”
He frowned and picked a flower too. “I didn’t even know I should be worrying about Mom until Lauren pointed it out. Now I worry all the time. Is she lonely? Unhappy?”
My shoulders rose and fell. “Maybe that’s just life. No one’s happy. Maybe everything gets stale and sad.”
“What, like we’re pieces of bread? No. I don’t believe it.”
“Why not?” I thought of my parents in their big, sad house. “Especially when we push our relationships past their expiration dates.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, you know. Love only lasts a handful of years. Like, four.”
Fierce lines creased his brow, and his gaze darkened. “That’s bullshit.”
I fell back down in the grass, the sky stretching endlessly above me. The sweet smell of the flower I’d torn up tickled my nose. “Why? It’s biological. You mate, raise young together, and then go your own ways after the kids can take care of themselves.”
“We’re not animals.”
“Well, we’re not plants.”
He frowned at me. “Okay, what about swans? They mate for life.”
“They also fly.”
He stared at me like I was insane. “So—you don’t believe relationships last past four years?”
I toyed with the grass. “Of course they do. I just don’t think we’re biologically meant for life-long monogamy.”
“My parents had the best relationship in the world.”
I shrugged as best I could from my prone position. “I’m not trying to argue. And I don’t expect you to agree with me.”
He looked offended. “But you think I’m being naïve.”
That was awkwardly uncomfortable enough that I sat upright and cleared my throat. “I don’t think you’re naïve. And I’m not anti-relationship. I actually think it’s a very—nice—idea, but it’s also encultured. I mean, I’m not surprised you believe in it—your community is very, uh, conservative, with traditional values—”
“Nat. You’re being offensive.”
“I’m not trying to be offensive, I’m just saying, I studied anthropology—”
“Which is not a golden ticket to judge people.”
“I’m not judging! I just—I’m trying to point out that you have a bias—which is normal, everyone has biases, it’s part of being human—but it’s important to recognize your bias and understand when it comes into play—”
He stood. “Well, maybe part of your bias is that your parents have an unhappy marriage so you don’t believe there could actually be happy ones.”
“Below the belt.”
His gaze dropped below the belt, and I flushed when he raised his eyes again, hot and steady. I cleared my throat and looked away. “And, okay, probably a valid point.”
“So do you also not believe in love?”
I shrugged, wishing we’d never started this conversation. “I believe in oxytocin and vasopressin. I believe in attraction and attachment.”
“But you don’t believe in forever.”
I also came to my feet. The wind played with his hair and pulled tendrils of mine loose. “I believe in having a solid enough partnership that you stay with it because it’s better than being lonely and you want to be part of a solid family unit.”