"Just giving the servers something to gossip about. Flynn owns this restaurant."
Keelin groaned. Leave it to Shane to let this little detail slide until the end of the night. He got in the car and she punched him in the shoulder.
"Ow! What was that for!" Shane winced.
"You knew this was Flynn's restaurant and you said nothing? You jerk!"
"Oh, stop. You wanted to make him jealous or you wouldn't have gone out with me. And what better place to do it in than his own restaurant?" Shane raised his eyebrows at Keelin.
Keelin knew he was right. She didn't always like to admit to this baser part of herself. But she did want to make a point that Flynn wasn't the only thing on her mind. Though he had played a predominant part in her dreams as of late.
"Tell me about him."
Shane started the car and pointed it up towards the longer route home. This was a drive Keelin hadn't taken yet and she watched the lights slice over the hedges as they climbed higher into the hills.
"Flynn is a little bit of an outcast. He likes to keep to himself, yet he is very popular in town. He does a little bit of everything. A fisherman at heart, he also owns acres of land that head far up into the hills. He has a strong affinity for animals and has spent years cultivating the best Irish setters in the country. That little pup of yours was more than just a gift; it most likely cost a thousand Euros."
Keelin let out a shocked sound. She had known that Ronan was important but she thought it was more because Flynn was forcing her to make a choice on staying. She hadn't stopped to consider the cost of the dog, and the sheer enormity of such a gift hit her. Was Flynn wooing her? She began to feel a little lousy about her evening with Shane. What kind of message was that to Flynn? Even though he was bad-tempered, he had saved her several times –she didn't want to think how many times – and had given her the expensive gift of Ronan. Keelin realized that she may have been missing a few signals along the way. But damn, that man got her Irish up.
"What about his family?" she asked.
"Both his parents have passed on. His father was a fisherman and he often fished with your father. His mother was an artist and her work was well renowned. Flynn moved to their house when they both died and has been living there ever since. Aside from me, he is one of the most successful men in the village. Don't let his rugged farm-boy looks fool you; that man is rich as can be. That restaurant you just ate in? He owns fifteen of them up the coast of Ireland. Each unique, each charming, and each packed, standing room only, every night of the week. His fresh catch of the day is renowned and the mussels he pulls from Grace's Cove are famous. No other restaurant is able to claim their mussels come from there. Nobody else dares to go there. Flynn is a master in his own right."
Keelin was floored by this information. Flynn was rich? Here she thought he was a poor fisherman making his living by his daily catch. She would need to reevaluate her opinion of him from poor farmer/fisherman to cunning businessman. For some reason, it made her angry. She felt like he had misrepresented himself to her and it didn't sit well with her.
"He never said a word." Keelin stared into the dark as the car climbed higher into the hills.
"He wouldn’t. Flynn doesn’t talk about money." Shane crested over a ridge and they looked down at the lights of a large ranch house, triple the size of Fiona's, that spread out overlooking the hills. Several stables were lit and clustered closely to the house. Keelin could see horses being led in from the pasture and several dogs running around. Floodlights illuminated the spread and it was neat, clean, and beautifully appointed. A variety of different sized boats were on trailers tucked behind the stables.
"Flynn's?" Keelin asked.
"Flynn's," Shane said. He wound the car down the hills towards Fiona's house and Flynn's spread disappeared from view. Keelin couldn't believe how much he oversaw. That man seemed to be everywhere at once and he had so much responsibility. She was amazed to find her attraction growing. This was the type of man Margaret would approve of. It didn't make sense.
Shane pulled quietly into the drive and cut the lights. He leaned back and turned his head towards hers. "Wanna make out?"
Keelin smacked him on the shoulder again.
"Ow, I had to try. I mean, we might as well see if there is anything between us then."
Snaking his hand out, he slipped his arm behind her and dove in for a kiss. Shocked, Keelin didn't move for a second. She let his mouth move over hers, testing, kissing gently. She tried it out for a second and was relieved to feel nothing. Taking a deep breath, she punched him in the gut.
"Oough! Youch. You've got a nasty punch." Shane doubled over and looked at her, deeply wounded.
"Stop it. You know you didn't feel anything anymore than I did."
Shane sighed. "You're right. I wanted to though. I really would like to run my hands down your curves. Sure I can't change your mind?" He leered at her. This time she saw it for what it was and laughed at him. Leaning over, she gave him a hug and thanked him for dinner.
She closed the door and peered in the window. "Go take a cold shower."
He laughed and waved, pulling out of the drive carefully. Keelin could hear Ronan's yips inside. She let herself in and saw a note on the table. "The O'Briens' boy is ill, I'm not sure when I will be home." Feeling guilty for not being there to help Fiona out, Keelin put her purse down and knelt to pet Ronan. The puppy writhed in ecstasy and she laughed down at him.
"I should've called you something more suiting a fancy king that you are." He tumbled over and lay with his paws up, grinning at her endearingly. "Come on, let's take you out for a walk."
Keelin slipped her sandals off but kept her dress on. They wouldn't go far. She opened the door and let an ecstatic Ronan race out into the darkness.
"Hey, come back here. Shit." Keelin scrambled for the flashlight by the door and walked out into the fields. As she moved away from the house, the darkness felt overpowering. The house glowed against the hills, and the half moon offered a little light. She could barely see Ronan as he bounded through the fields away from the house.
"Hey, Ronan! Get back here." She half-laughed as she chased him over the ridge and stopped short.
Ronan ran in circles around Flynn's dog. She patiently licked the puppy's face as he jumped on her.
Flynn stood behind his dog, a lantern in his hand. The flames shot warm light across his face, but his eyes were in darkness. She swore they stared into her soul. Liquid heat slipped low in her belly. He didn't even have to touch her to get a response, Keelin thought, as she remembered how Shane's kiss evoked no response in her.
"Have a nice dinner, Keelin?" Flynn's words were like silk against her skin.
"Um, yes. I just learned that the restaurant we ate at is yours. Dinner was lovely." Keelin wanted to ask him why he hadn't told her that he owned restaurants. Probably because half of the time they weren't talking, she reminded herself.
Flynn walked towards her, bent down, and put the lantern on the ground. It cast a low circle of light around them. Keelin's breath slowed. Flynn moved forward until he was inches away from her. An arc of energy zipped between them and Keelin's skin felt sensitized. Her breaths came out in shallow puffs as she looked up at him.
"Do you like Shane? Do you like another man's lips on yours? Is this what you do in Boston?" Flynn said tersely.
He was angry. Keelin could feel it radiating off him. She gulped and looked at his chest and then dragged her eyes upwards, over his heavenly mouth, and into those devastatingly blue eyes. Her lips suddenly dry, she licked them before answering.
"I, no. I don't. I'm not like that. I told Shane it was just as friends."
"Do you let all your friends kiss you like that, Keelin?" Flynn's voice was accusatory.
Keelin lost it. She smacked him lightly in the chest and he stumbled back a foot, surprised.
"Hey, it's not like you are showing up at my door and asking me to dinner. I have every right to do what I want. So stop with this,
whatever this is," she fumed at him.
"Damn, you are the most infuriating woman." Flynn grabbed her and crushed his lips to hers. She kicked him in the shin and he swore, backing up a step.
"Hands off." Keelin's words mocked her body, which screamed "Hands on!" She wanted to run her tongue all over him and have him make her scream. Focus, she thought. Focus. Shane had taught her one thing tonight. This was a small town and gossips were everywhere. If she let Flynn kiss her all over the hills, somehow someone would see and her reputation in town would be ruined. She hadn't even had time to make friends yet, and she was far from wanting to be labeled as easy girl in town who let two different men kiss her in a night.
"Listen up, buddy, I'm not that kind of girl. You think you can just get everything you want for free? Well you can't." Her mind screamed at her, "liar, liar, pants on fire." She wanted to rip her sundress off and dance naked in the moonlight with him. There was something so pagan about the lantern light, the moon, and the waves crashing. Oh yeah, she could all but feel it.
Flynn ran his hands through his hair and then cocked them on his hips, staring her down.
"I can see your nipples through your dress. You want me."
"Stop it. Don't talk to me like that. If you want to be with me than you can take me on a date," Keelin fumed at him.
"So it's a date you want, Miss Keelin? Then it's a date you'll get, but I'll be getting a down payment on that first."
Flynn reached out and wound his hand through her hair. He gently tugged until she stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Her breasts brushed his muscled chest, and Keelin caught her breath. Flynn tugged her hair down until she was forced to look up at him. Flynn leaned down and laid a whisper of a kiss on her lips. Once, twice, a third time, gently kissing her, his hand holding her hair, not touching her elsewhere. Her hands hung suspended at her sides, her body locked to his, as he softly teased her with his mouth. She moaned. He smiled and stepped back. Keelin stumbled a bit.
Flynn steadied her and said, "Clear your evening this Saturday. It's a full moon. I'll take you on my boat." He whistled for his dog and, picking up his lantern, walked into the night.
Keelin shouted after him, "Oh, sure. Yes, I'd love to. Thanks for asking so nicely!" She could hear his chuckle float over the dark air.
Cursing him, and her clearly wanton ways, she picked the whimpering Ronan up and headed back to the cottage.
Chapter Fourteen
The phone startled Keelin and she shot up in bed. The gray light of dawn touched the windows. Keelin reached for her cell phone before she realized it was the house phone. She jerked up and whipped the covers off of the bed, and rushed out into the main room. Fiona was nowhere to be seen. Keelin fumbled with the receiver as Ronan ran excitedly after her, nipping at her heels.
"Ronan, stop! Hello?" Keelin tucked her hair behind her ear and blinked the fuzzies out of her eyes after another angsty night of x-rated dreams featuring Flynn, with a surprise appearance by Shane. She was turning into a wanton. Or something. This town was making her nuts.
"Keelin, it's Fiona."
"Grandma, didn't you come home?" Keelin was surprised. She realized that she hadn't seen her car last night after all. She fell asleep so quickly after returning to the house that she hadn't heard if Fiona had come in.
"No, Finnegan is deathly ill. This is beyond what I can handle on my own. I need you."
"Grandma. I don’t know what to do! What if I make it worse?" Keelin paced, flinging her hand out as she spoke.
"Keelin. I need you. I am failing. I can only take so much of this in myself. He's only seven. He deserves a chance at life."
Keelin realized she was letting her insecurities get in the way of saving a life.
"Okay, what do you need me to bring?" Keelin grabbed a pencil and wrote down all of the supplies that Fiona needed. She looked down at Ronan. She didn't know how long she would be gone. She popped the door open and whistled long and low. Moments later, Flynn's dog popped over the ridge. If she had the man's phone number like modern people she would just call him, she thought sarcastically. Instead, she tied a brief note to Ronan's collar and sent him up to Flynn's dog. They raced together over the ridgeline and she hoped that Ronan would be safe. Gathering her supplies, she slipped on jeans, a simple t-shirt, and the crystal necklace that Fiona had given her. The necklace was warm against her breast and seemed to hum with energy. Good, she thought. I can use any energy that will help me. She had no idea what she was about to walk into.
Keelin hopped into her ragged truck and made her way into the village, following her hastily scrawled directions. She pulled up at a small house as Cait came out of the front door, a haggard look on her face. Seeing Keelin, she glared and stomped off.
"Cait! Wait, I want to talk to you!"
"No time to talk, I have to open the pub."
Seeing as it was fairly early in the morning hours, Keelin highly doubted that Cait needed to open the pub. Word had gotten around quickly about her date with Shane. Keelin would make it a point to go visit Cait later but for now she was needed inside.
Keelin entered the cottage. The musk of sickness hit her as she walked towards the voices in the back room. She entered a small room with a single bed tucked into a corner. The furnishings were minimal, but the linens were clean, and the coverlet had been made with care. Several people huddled over a small figure on the bed. A man turned as she walked into the room and she stopped. Keelin stared into eyes shaped like hers and flinched.
Her brother looked at her and said nothing. A small woman at his side turned and gasped. "Oh, thank you so much for coming. I don't know if Fiona can hold out much longer." She grasped Keelin's hand and pulled her past her brother, who remained silent. Fiona sat on a small chair by the bed. Her face was ashen and she held crystals in her palms as she muttered under her breath. Keelin immediately worried for her.
"Fiona. Grandma, I'm here." Keelin placed her palms on Fiona's shoulders and felt her exhaustion.
Fiona nodded, never taking her eyes off of the small boy who lay in the bed. His face was almost deathly white, a sheen of sweat across his brow, and deep gray hollows ringed his eyes. His brown hair matched his father's and when he opened his eyes, they mirrored Keelin's. This was her nephew.
"Finnegan, this is your Aunt Keelin from America. She's here to help you," Fiona said as she stroked his brow. Keelin didn't know what to say and then realized they were waiting for her to speak.
"Hi, Finnegan. So nice to finally meet you. You're looking a little down; let's get you fixed up so you can get back outside. I have a new puppy for you to meet." Keelin chattered nonsense words as her brother pulled up a chair next to the bed for her. She sat down and pulled the sack of materials onto her lap. Fiona nodded and took the sack. She moved over to the table and dumped everything out and began mixing a new broth.
Keelin turned to her. "Do you need me?" She was scared to touch Finnegan. She wasn't sure what she was dealing with yet.
"Yes. First, hold his hand and read him." Fiona asked for boiling water and poured a mixture of herbs into the bowl. Keelin leaned over Finnegan and reached for his hand. His small hand was cold in hers, and she was immediately pulled under by sensations. She could feel a deep pain, and sensed a dark residue of sorts that was attacking his nervous system. She heard Fiona tell her to pay attention to the toxin but not to remove it. Keelin forced herself to feel where the toxin was and to examine the properties of it. She tried to envision what it looked like, down to the molecular structure.
"Keelin, come here." Fiona beckoned with the small bowl.
Keelin walked over to the table and looked at the mixture Fiona had made. Fiona handed it to her.
"Smell it, taste it, and then add what is needed." Keelin almost dropped the bowl.
"I don't know what I am doing," she whispered to Fiona, standing close to her.
Fiona looked up at her. She put her hand on Keelin's necklace. Heat shot through her breast.
&
nbsp; "Yes, you do."
Remembering Fiona's lessons on trusting her intuition and that mixing potions and healing treatments would come from within, Keelin took a deep breath and brought the image of the toxin into her head. She looked at it from all angles, felt it, and took a small sip of the healing broth her grandmother had made. Instinctively she moved towards the moss they had harvested from Grace's Cove. She added a generous portion and found herself reaching for the seaweed. She shredded fine pieces and added some finely ground silver to the mix. Thinking about taste, she asked for honey and lemon to complete the broth. Fiona nodded at her weakly.
"Go ahead, give it to him. And then use your hands. Remember what I said about directing the pain. You mustn't take it within," Fiona cautioned.
Keelin nodded. She remembered but didn't know if she knew how to do it. She just had to trust herself. She sat by Finnegan's bed and made herself comfortable, careful not to spill any of the broth from the bowl. Her hands shook as she lifted the bowl towards his small face.
"Finnegan, I have some medicine for you. If you drink this, I promise I'll bring my puppy to see you. Would you like that?" Keelin spoke softly to the sick boy.
Finnegan nodded weakly, his brown eyes huge in his face.
"Am I going to die?" he croaked out between dry lips.
"Nonsense. Just a wee bit of a fever, and this broth will help in a jiffy." Keelin prayed it was so. She could feel the amulet burning against her neck and she began to feed Finnegan the broth. As she did, ancient words rose to her lips and she recited a prayer in Gaelic. Keelin didn't know the words she spoke, yet she allowed them to come. It felt right. Slowly, Finnegan finished the broth and collapsed back on the bed, trembling.
Keelin's brother grabbed her shoulder.
"What have you done to him?" Colin pulled her off of the seat.
"Colin! No. Let her. We have nothing else. Please." His wife dragged him away. Keelin met his eyes and turned back towards Finnegan. There would be time to deal with Colin later. She sat beside Finn once again and placed her hands on his chest, near his heart. Closing her eyes, she let the sickness flood her. It was a twisted black mass. A toxin of sorts that was ravaging his small body. She visualized the broth seeping into his system, a silver stream of light and purity, and forced it to surround the black mass. Winding, dipping, and intertwining, the silver liquid slowly worked itself around the black mass and she envisioned it rolling into a ball. She focused on pulling the ball up, up, and out, and launched it out the window and into the sky, directing it towards a dying tree she saw in the yard. She heard a snap and saw a flash as a huge branch on the tree fell.
Wild Irish Heart (The Mystic Cove Series Book 1) Page 10