Ripple_Persy & Sully

by Marianne Knightly

  “Don’t you think I know your voice, Ronan Sullivan. I gave birth to you, after all, didn’t I? And is that any way to greet your mother?”

  Sully smiled. God, he’d missed his ma. He could just picture her standing in the kitchen with her scolding face, her dark but gray-slivered hair up in a tidy bun. “Sorry, Ma. How are you?

  “Oh, doing as well as can be expected, you know. Are you off shift right now?”

  “No, just on a break. I wanted to give you some news.”

  A pause. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I’m coming home for a visit.”

  His ma’s voice got brighter. “Oh, well, that’s grand. I thought you weren’t allowed to take the time. When are you coming and how long are you staying for?”

  He wasn’t sure how she’d take the news he was seeing someone—he hadn’t mentioned Persy to them before—and that he may not move back to Ireland to live. His training had told him news—bad or good—should be delivered swiftly. So that’s what he did, though he decided to leave out the part about his job for now; that he’d tell them in person if he got the chance. “Here’s the thing, Ma. I’ve met someone.”

  “I see.”

  His ma’s voice had taken that ‘not again’ tone he didn’t care for. “She’s Irish and living here in Masillia.”

  His ma seemed to perk up at that. “Irish, did you say?”

  “Yes. Her da was in an accident, and she’s going back to see them. I’m going back with her.”

  “Meeting her family. Well, then, that is news. How’s her da? You’ll need to bring her to see me as well once you’re done meeting her family.”

  “He’s okay. The thing is, Ma, she hasn’t been home or spoken to her family in several years. I’m not sure how everything will go. I’m certainly going to try and come by, but I hope you’ll understand if I can’t.”

  “Why’s she so long from seeing her family?”

  He already knew how his ma would react before he said it. “She’s divorced.”

  Silence.

  “She got divorced after her baby girl died, and people, including her husband, blamed her. She wasn’t to blame.”

  “Oh, dear God in Heaven. Poor child.”

  He knew his ma was referring to both Persy and Molly when she said ‘child’. “She’s had a tough road.”

  “Oh, what a terrible thing to live through.”

  “Ma?”

  “Yes, Ronan?”

  “She’s beautiful. Her name is Persy. Well, Persephone, but she’s called Persy. She’s smart, she’s beautiful, she’s kind, she’s independent. She’s got a sad soul and a giving heart, and she needs me right now.”

  “Oh, Ronan.”

  His ma’s thick voice sent his heart beating faster. Did that mean she approved of Persy, and of him helping her, even if it meant he couldn’t come see his family? “Do you understand, Ma?”

  “Oh, yes. Yes, of course. You just let me know if you can come.”

  “You’ll tell May and Lucy?”

  “Oh, I’ll call them right this instant.”

  He just bet she would.

  He also bet he’d be hearing from his sisters themselves soon, too.

  Chapter Seven

  Sully held Persy’s hand as the plane took off, kept holding it even as she stared dazedly out of the window.

  He tucked her hair behind her ear, then caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “You need anything?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  She looked so lost, and it was tearing at him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Scared.”

  Christ.

  She turned to face him, her eyes sad and fearful. “I’m scared because my father was hurt. I’m scared if I go back, they won’t welcome me. I’m scared that if I don’t go back and see them, I’ll never be able to put the past behind me, as much as I’m able to.”

  “I’m here for you, honey. Whatever you need.”

  She nuzzled into his hand, then into him, turning to wrap an arm around him. He pulled her closer and wrapped both around her, one hand playing with her hair while the other roamed the small of her back.

  She needed him. He’d been needed before—by his ma and sisters—but a woman had never needed him like this. He wanted to be better, do better for her. Taking this trip now was a risk for him professionally; his Cap had made it clear any opportunities they might be considering could disappear if he went on leave now. Yet, how could he not when she needed him?

  No. Given how scared she was, he wouldn’t choose to be anywhere else. Whatever happened on this trip, or as a result of this trip, he’d find a way to make it work between them.

  These last few weeks had been eye-opening for him. He’d never thought he could feel this way about a woman. It was like a warmth he felt down in his bones, deep in his soul, and that warmth just kept growing.

  He was falling for her.

  It was one reason why he’d held off on full sex with her since they’d officially started dating. He wanted that warmth to keep growing, to settle down and root inside him—and her—before he took her back there. He wanted to make sure she knew he wasn’t after the easy fuck this time.

  He was after her, all of her.

  No, he wouldn’t choose to be anywhere else right now. Though he did wish he could make this trip easier for her, and this meeting with her parents easier, too.

  He kissed her head. “Think your parents will mind meeting me?”

  She didn’t answer for a few seconds. “I don’t know. I’ve never really had to bring a boyfriend home. They’d known Tom and his family for years before we got together. But I’ll be glad to have you there.”

  In the past few weeks, they’d spent a lot of time learning about each other. He knew what she’d be facing, and it wasn’t going to be easy. Still, not everything they’d deal with would be bad. “I’m looking forward to meeting your father.”

  She tensed, but he continued stroking her back until she relaxed again. “Yeah?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” he rumbled. “I can’t wait to ask him why he chose Persephone for you. It suits you, you know.”

  She groaned. “Are you really going to ask him that?”

  “It’s a beautiful name. More importantly, it’s your name. Do you dislike it so much?”

  She settled her face against his chest. Damn, but she felt good there. She felt right.

  “It never felt like me. Most people, I suppose, grow into their name, but I never did. I was always made a joke of for it. What Irish girl is named after a Greek goddess?”

  “One with a Greek father.”

  “Still, though. It just made me stand out more in a world in which I already stood out, having a father like I did. Not to mention, Persephone’s story isn’t the nicest.”

  “Greek goddesses rarely have easy stories.”

  “Yes, but I feel like I can relate to her.”

  He blinked. “Really? Persephone was abducted and taken to the underworld by Hades. Then, just when she thought she was being rescued, he tricked her and bound her to return to him for part of every year. Do you feel as though I’ve abducted you?”

  Her head shook lightly against him. “No, not you.”

  Shit. Her ex. “Tom?”

  She nodded. “I mean, he didn’t abduct me in real life or anything but, I don’t know, I felt trapped all the same.”

  He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know the answer. “Did your parents force you to marry Tom, honey?”

  “No. It wasn’t like that. I knew marrying him was wrong. I felt it, you know, leading up to the wedding. It didn’t feel right. But everybody kept telling me how excited they were, and my parents were happy, and there were times that I was happy and caught up in the excitement of it all, so I went through with it. My parents just wanted to see me married and settled. To them, it wasn’t so much to ask. I suppose Irish men never get that pressure.”

  His lips lifted in a small smile. “I wouldn’t say never, but my ma does give
my sisters a hard time of it. May’s married—and happy at that, last I heard—but Lucy’s still studying and wants to build a career first, in whatever she ends up studying. My ma’s not too happy with her. She’s not too keen on me, either, I must say.”

  “Why?”

  “She doesn’t think I’m serious enough or steady enough. She thought I was turning things around when I joined the Garda, but then I never ‘settled down’. I never really had a relationship before you, and my ma and sisters tease me something awful about it. I guess I always thought I was shit at them, but I’ve been doing okay with it, haven’t I?”

  She leaned up, her face so close that his entire world became Persy. “You’ve been doing more than okay with it. You’ve been wonderful. Well, most of the time.”

  Fuck if that didn’t add another layer of warmth inside him. The corners of his lips tipped up. “Most of the time?”

  Her lips tipped up, too. “Yeah.”

  He let that lie for now and teased her a little. “If you meet them, maybe you could mention that, but leave out that ‘most of the time’ nonsense.”

  She teased back. “It’s not nonsense.”

  Bringing someone home to meet his family was something he’d never done before. It would mean something, to them and to him. They’d think wedding bells, and he wasn’t sure if Persy even wanted to get married again down the road.

  His smile dimmed. He rubbed a hand down her back and spoke softly. “Did you think about calling off the wedding?”

  She relaxed against him again. “Almost every day. When I was standing in the dressmaker’s in my gown and my ma was looking at me with such pride in her eyes—small moments that meant a lot or made me happy—those times I wouldn’t. But those were few and far between. No, I went through with it. It wasn’t so bad. When we had Molly, I was happy. It wasn’t like I was always miserable or anything, you know? There were good times. And Tom was nice, for the most part.”

  “When wasn’t he nice, honey?”

  She shifted slightly, burrowing into him a little more. “After the baby. After our little Molly passed, my eyes opened wide. Tom blamed me, I blamed me, the neighbors and all the village, it seemed like, blamed me, though there wasn’t anyone to blame.”

  She sighed. “I’d had enough. I spent my whole life doing what I thought I should do: go to school, then get married, then have a baby, and stay close to the village where I grew up. I thought I’d done everything right, but it still ended up going horribly wrong.”

  He gave her a squeeze of comfort. She squeezed back.

  “When Molly died, I realized it didn’t matter what everyone else thought I should do. I realized I had to figure out what it was I wanted. So, I got a divorce and moved to Dublin to figure that out. Eventually, even Dublin wasn’t far enough away from the guilt and shame, and I started traveling around Europe and ended up here in Valleria, like I told you. I like it by the sea. It’s not like in Ireland, you know.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Sometimes I miss looking at the ocean from an Irish coast, but I feel peace here in Masillia.”

  She was silent for a few moments. “Do you think they’ll forgive me?”

  “I think they were already looking for you. So, they may have already forgiven you and want to know if you forgive them.”

  “I’m not sure. I’d like to make peace with my parents, if I can. It’ll be a lot, trying to face everyone after this, but I need to. I probably should have done it much earlier.”

  “You weren’t meant to do it earlier. You were meant to do it now and have me at your side when you did.” He leaned down and touched his lips to hers.

  He put worries about what they’d face, what her family would think, what his family would think, and all the uncertainty about his job aside. For now, he’d focus on being there for her.

  Chapter Eight

  Green. Everything was always green.

  Persy had somehow forgotten that.

  In the years since she’d left, she hadn’t bothered to remember the lush green or rocky coasts. She hadn’t remembered the beauty or the good memories she’d had. She’d only ever been able to remember the bad things. Funny how the mind did that to her, forcing her to focus on the bad more than the good.

  She made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t forget the good when she left Ireland again.

  “How are you?” Sully squeezed her hand.

  She turned away from the small airplane window. “Okay. Nervous. Anxious. Wary. Terrible. So, maybe I’m not okay, actually.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  “I’m worried.”

  “What’s worrying you the most?”

  She rubbed her lips together for a few moments. “I think…I think seeing my family. What if I show up there and they turn me away?”

  “Then you’ll know you made the right decision leaving.” He leaned towards her, their shoulders brushing, the scent of him washing over her, calming her in a way she hadn’t expected.

  Her voice was a rough whisper. “Sometimes I feel like I’ll never have peace.”

  He reached up to cup her cheek. “Honey.”

  She loved the way he said that. Sometimes his ‘honey’ was thick and sweet, sometimes low and gruff. Other times it was full of need and want and passion for her. She wanted to drown in his words, in him.

  He leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “I’m right here with you. I know it won’t be easy, but we’ll get through this. We’ll find our peace.”

  She really loved the way he’d said ‘our’. Since they’d unofficially committed to each other, everything was becoming a ‘we’ or an ‘our’.

  She’d missed being a ‘we’. She liked—no, loved—her independence, but it was shitty trying to go through life on her own.

  “Thanks, Sully.”

  “We’ll visit your da in the hospital and, if you don’t find that peace you’re looking for, we’ve still got my family to visit, if you’re up for it.”

  “Do you think they’ll like me?”

  He gave her a devilish grin. “They’ll like you.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’ll tell them we’re sleeping in the same room.”

  “Um…If your mother’s anything like mine, she probably won’t like that.”

  “Oh, she’ll hate it.”

  “Then why are you planning to torture your mother and make her hate me at the same time?”

  He leaned close, his expression amused and slightly disbelieving. “Honey, I wouldn’t risk my ma’s wrath over sleeping arrangements unless I was planning on keeping those arrangements for a long time.”

  Her heart started beating faster. “What?”

  He pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. “And I mean a good long time, in case you were wondering.”

  She was. She was absolutely and completely wondering what ‘a long time’ meant. “Can you be any more specific?”

  He chuckled. “Not right now, but I think you get the picture.”

  She got it, all right. He thought they’d be together for ‘a good long time’ and was attempting to prove this point to his mother by sleeping with her—or ‘sleeping’ with her—under his mother’s roof.

  His mother would either accept her son was a grown man in an adult relationship or…

  Blame her for being a shameless hussy out to corrupt her son and never accept her.

  Shit.

  The pressure of being a ‘good Irish girl’ was weighing down on her again, and they hadn’t even landed in Ireland.

  “Don’t worry. They’ll like you. I told you.”

  He did know his family better than her, but… “Are you sure?”

  “Are you truly worried about this?”

  “Yes.” Her voice sounded small. She hated when her voice sounded like that.

  “When they see how much I like you, they’ll like you, too.”

  “Did they think that when you brought other women home?” />
  “Never really did that.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  He shrugged. “Before I left for university, I might have brought someone over, just to watch telly or the like, or study. School days, you know. I never brought anyone serious over at all.”

  “So, I’m basically the first person you’re bringing home to meet your mother and sisters.”

  “You’re the first woman I’ve ever been truly serious about, so yes.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ve told them about you already.”

  Her head whipped around to his. “What did you say?”

  He got that devious look again and leaned down, his lips puckering.

  She shifted her head away. “Don’t try to distract me with kisses. What did you say?”

  “I thought you liked being distracted with kisses.”

  “This is serious!”

  “So are my kisses.”

  Ugh! “Sully!”

  He chuckled. Chuckled!

  “Don’t laugh at me.”

  He stopped immediately, his face switching to a stony serious in the span of half a second. His fingers took hold of her chin and forced her to look him straight in the eyes.

  “Now get this straight. I will not now, nor will I ever laugh at you. I will tease you, because you’re fun to tease and a man can tease a woman he respects without it being mean. I will annoy you for the same reason. But I will never, not ever, make fun of you like you’re thinking right now. Not. Ever. You hear me?”

  She’d stopped breathing, she was nearly sure of it.

  His voice was hard, but not rough. Focused, but not angry. “Persephone. Do you understand me?”

  She nodded.

  “Give me the words, honey.”

  She let out a long breath. “I understand you.”

  “Good.” He pulled her into his arms, his cheek resting against her head, hers resting against his chest.

  “Do you want to know what I told my ma and sisters?”

  She nodded against his warm, hard chest.

  “I told them I’d met a beauty who could take care of herself, with a sad soul and a giving heart.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Did you really say that to your mother?”