"Grace," he murmured, finally getting out a word. "You're beautiful."
"Thanks."
"Come in."
As she moved into the apartment, her father gave Ian a pat on the shoulder. "It's good to see you Ian. I can't believe you brought my girl home."
"She brought herself here," Ian returned.
She was once again grateful and appreciative of Ian's support, his respect for her decisions. He might have encouraged her, but she'd made the final call.
"Well, however it came to be, I'm happy." Her dad motioned them toward the loveseat in the living room and the small armchair next to it. "Please sit down. Can I get you some tea? Something to eat?"
"We're fine." Grace sat down on the couch, happy to have Ian next to her. "How are you feeling?"
"Much better than I was a few weeks ago." He paused. "Shall we get right into it? That's why you came, isn't it? To hear my side of the story?"
"Not completely," she said, her words bringing surprise to his eyes. "But we do want to hear the story before we talk about anything else. We know bits and pieces of it, but I want to hear what you have to say."
"I developed that stinging drone when I was working at Vipercom with Ahmet. It was ahead of its time then, and it didn't work as I envisioned. There were a lot of problems. The stinger didn't always sting. We couldn't figure out how to keep the injectable in its most dangerous form until needed and then how to cloak it was another challenge. I spent long, long hours developing the prototype."
"This was ten years ago?" she asked.
"Yes, Grace, it's the project I was working on for the months right before you all left. I was obsessed with that bee. I knew it could be huge, not just as a spy camera but as a weapon." He paused. "After your mom took you to the States, I realized what I'd given up for that little bee—everything that mattered to me. I couldn't bring myself to keep working on it, so I put it aside. A year later, I quit the company and I took the bee with me. It wasn't just because it was my invention; it was because I'd begun to see how it could be used against the wrong enemy. I told the people at Vipercom that it didn't work, that it had a fatal flaw, and at the time they believed me. They didn't realize that I'd taken some of the critical pieces of information with me. Until someone started to put it together last year."
"David Pennington," Ian said.
"Yes. I had a visit from David a few months ago. He asked a lot of questions about the drone and wondered where it had gone. After that, I started to feel like someone was watching me, following me. I knew I had to get rid of the drone and the information I had to make it invisible. The box I was sending you was sitting on my coffee table for weeks, Ian. I decided to write down the formula for the invisible paint in one of the journals. I doubted anyone would go through all of them to find it. Then, when I saw someone trying to get into my locked office, I put the drone in the box, too. I wasn't sure you'd see it, but if you did, I thought I could trust you with it. I know your views of science. You have unbreakable integrity. I knew that from our first meeting." He paused. "But then I was attacked. I never imagined that the package I was sending to Grace would become the target. They were separate in my mind, but when you took Grace the puzzle box, it was all the same to Pennington and his colleagues." He turned to her. "I am so sorry, Grace. I never ever meant to put you in danger."
"I know," she said. "I'm glad you took the prototype away from the people who wanted to use it against us."
He let out a sigh. "I don’t know if it will matter. Someone else will figure it out one day. But that day won't be today."
"There's something else I'm curious about," Ian interrupted. "Grace and I ran into the Fergusons in Tahoe. They said you stole something from them. They wouldn't tell us what it was."
"Oh." Seamus smiled. "Is Harry still talking about that? He thinks I stole credit for a paper I published, a theory he took ownership of, but it wasn't true. He was always competitive. He couldn't stand when I beat him, and I always beat him."
A touch of her father's arrogance reminded her that he would probably never completely change. Maybe that was all right. He was who he was, flaws and all.
"We thought Harry and Westley were after us for a while," she put in. "We never imagined it was David, Ian's old college roommate."
"I didn't realize the two of you were connected in that way," Seamus said. "Not until the police told me. But I wasn't completely surprised. There are so many unexpected connections in the universe." He took a breath as he turned back to her. "Is there anything else you want to ask me, Grace?"
"I have a lot of questions," she said. "But here's the big one." She was almost afraid to ask it, but it had been burning in her heart for over a decade. "Why did you cheat on Mom?"
Seamus tensed and then blew out a breath. "Because I was selfish, Grace. We were fighting all the time. I thought she wanted me to choose between science and her, and I couldn't do that."
"But you didn't choose science; you chose another woman. You had another kid, another family. You deserted us. We—I—loved you." Her voice cracked, and she wished it hadn't, because she didn't want him to see her pain, but she just couldn't hide it.
"It was wrong, Grace. I can't excuse what I did. Back then, I was on the ultimate ego trip. I thought I could have everything, that I was entitled, but I wasn't. I betrayed your mother and you and Jillian. I deserved what I got. I deserved losing you. I didn't realize it until it was too late. I am sorry. I wish I could change it. But I can't. I regret my actions every single day of my life."
There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, in his eyes. "I want to forgive you," she said slowly. "But I think I inherited some of your selfishness, because I want it more for me than for you. I don't want to be burdened by anger, resentment, and bitterness."
"I don't want that for you, either. If never forgiving me, never seeing me again, would relieve that burden, I would urge you to make that choice."
She thought for a moment. "I changed my name to punish you, but that decision was influenced by Mom. I felt like I had to take her side."
"Of course you did. I understood. And your mother had every right to tell you whatever she needed to say."
"But our relationship—yours and mine—should have been separate. It took me a long time to see that. I don't know where we go from here. I'm not ready to be your daughter again. But…"
"But?" he echoed, a hopeful gleam in his eyes.
"I won't send your packages back anymore. If you want to write or email me, I might write back. Or I might not," she warned. "Saying you're sorry doesn't make everything right again."
"I understand. I just want you to know that I tried to reach out to you and your sister, but I couldn't get past your mother, and then I couldn't get past the two of you. I don't want to rehash the past, but I care about you and I hope that you'll have a happy and long life filled with everything your heart desires."
His words brought tears to her eyes. They were words he used to say to her every night after she said her prayers. "I want that, too—Dad," she whispered.
Now Seamus looked like he was about to cry, but he cleared his throat and gave a tight nod. "Good."
She got to her feet. "I have to go now."
He rose. "I hope one day we'll see each other again."
"We will," she said. "One day."
"You have always had a big and kind heart, Gracie."
"Thanks." She walked to the door, then paused, taking Ian's hand. "You did one thing right, Dad. You sent me Ian."
He nodded approvingly. "I had a feeling you two would get along. When we met last summer, he couldn't take his eyes off your picture."
"You didn't see that," Ian protested.
Seamus grinned. "Of course I did. Why do you think I asked you to take her the box? It wasn't just for me; it was for you, too. Because I know what happens to a man when work consumes his soul. It's too late for me, but not for you."
"It's not too late for you, either," Ian said. "Good-bye,
Seamus."
"Good-bye," Seamus returned. He stood at the door until they hailed a taxi.
Grace let out a breath as she got into the cab and looked over at Ian. "Was I too hard on him?"
"You said what was in your heart. That's all that matters."
She nodded. "Now that that's out of the way, let's go meet Emma." Ian's cousin and her husband were still in Ireland, and she was more than a little curious to meet another one of the Callaway clan.
* * *
Snow was starting to fall as they walked toward the café on Caldwell Street. Ian held open the door for Grace as they entered. He was immediately hit by the warmth of the room, the fire blazing in the grate, the dark wood, the melodious hum of conversation and laughter. And across the room, at a table by the fireplace, was his cousin Emma, her husband Max, and an adorable freckle-faced, seven-year-old girl.
Emma jumped to her feet, a happy light in her blue eyes, as she came over to hug him. "Ian, I can't quite believe we're back in Ireland together."
"It does seem surreal," he admitted. "Max, how are you?" He shook Emma's husband's hand.
The police detective with the brown hair and green eyes gave him a smile. "I'm a father now; that's how I am."
"So I hear. Congratulations. I want you to meet Grace."
"I feel like I already know you," Emma told Grace. "I heard about you long before Ian ever met you."
Grace gave him a questioning look.
"I might have mentioned your beautiful photo to my cousin," he said sheepishly.
"Mentioned it?" Emma teased. "He talked about it on our eleven-hour flight home."
"I can't believe my picture stuck with you that much," Grace told him.
"I couldn't forget you," he said, giving her a warm smile.
"Now, sit, sit," Emma said. She put her arm around her little girl as they all sat down at the table. "Shannon, do you remember my cousin Ian? You met him in the summer."
Shannon gave a vigorous nod and a toothless smile. "Hi, Ian."
"I see you lost another tooth," he said.
She grinned again, then went back to her coloring.
"We ordered Guinness and appetizers all around," Max said.
"Perfect," Ian replied. "We wanted to thank you for trying to help us out with Grace's father."
"We honestly didn't do much. Kate was the one who pulled her FBI strings to get more information," Emma said.
"Still, you made the effort, and I appreciate it."
"We both do," Grace added.
Ian sat back as the waiter set down their drinks.
"How long are you going to stay in Ireland?" Emma asked.
"Until the day after Christmas," he replied. "Grace and I are going to have an Irish Christmas. Care to join us?"
"We're actually headed to the airport tomorrow," Emma said. "We finally got the paperwork straightened out, and I can't wait to introduce Shannon to the family."
"She's going to be a great addition," he said, thinking how happy Emma looked compared to when they'd last been in Ireland. Then she'd been worrying about a recent series of miscarriages and wondering if she'd ever have a child. "What does Grandma think about all this?"
"She's over the moon," Emma replied. "She won't admit it, but I know she sent Max and me here so that we could meet Shannon. This little girl was our destiny."
"Well, I'm glad it all worked out."
Emma made a face at him, then turned to Grace. "Ian is one of the most cynical and pragmatic of all my cousins. He doesn't believe in fate. Can you imagine?"
"No," Grace said with a laugh. "I keep telling him destiny brought us together."
"And I finally believe it," Ian put in, surprising both of them with his words.
Max groaned. "Not you, too, Ian. I thought I could count on you to stay logical."
"Hard to do when you fall in love with a picture and then meet the actual woman and realize she's even better than you ever imagined," he said dryly.
"So you're in love?" Emma asked, wide-eyed. "Really? That sounds serious."
He took Grace's hand. "It's absolutely serious. And tonight feels like a new beginning."
"It is," Grace agreed. "The past is behind me. No more looking back."
"Only looking forward." He picked up his beer glass. "Let's have a toast. To a new family—Emma, Max, and Shannon. And to the love of my life—Grace O'Malley."
"Grace O'Malley Donelan," she said, clinking her glass with his. "And you're the love of my life, too, Ian. I might not have fallen in love with your picture, but I definitely fell in love with you."
He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. Then he took a sip of his beer. That's when he noticed that Emma had toasted with water instead of Guinness. "Wait a second," he said sharply. "You're not drinking, Emma. Is something else going on?"
"Well, since you asked…" Emma gave her husband a quick look. "I can't hold back."
"Then don't," Max said with an encouraging smile.
"I'm pregnant," Emma said, the words coming out in a happy rush. "I'm going to have Shannon and a baby. Of course, things could still go wrong, but I'm thinking positively. It's a second miracle. Can you believe it?"
He actually could. It seemed to be the season for miracles. "I'm so happy for you, Em."
"Me, too," Grace put in. "Congratulations."
"Thanks. It's been a struggle to carry a child. Now I feel so blessed."
"I do, too," he said, looking back at Grace. "Can you handle one more surprise? I was going to wait until Christmas Eve, but now I don't want to."
"Okay," she said warily.
He pulled out a black velvet box and flipped open the lid to reveal a diamond set on a gold band of Celtic knots.
"Oh, my God," Grace murmured. "It's so beautiful."
"Will you marry me, Grace? Will you let me love you for the rest of my life?"
Her eyes blurred with tears. "Yes, yes—a million times yes."
Emma clapped her hands. "This is amazing. I never imagined you were going to propose, Ian."
"I didn't, either," Grace said with a teary laugh as he slipped the ring on her finger.
"I couldn't wait." He looked deep into her eyes. "I need you to be mine as soon as possible."
"Oh, Ian," she said, cupping his face with her hands. "I already am yours. I love you, and I can't wait to be your wife. We're going to be so happy."
"We already are," he said, repeating her words before he kissed her again.
# # #
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed Ian and Grace's story. It was so much fun to write about this sexy scientist and his perfect match, a miracle-loving school teacher. If you'd like to leave a review, click here!
Want more Callaways? Dylan's story, ONCE YOU'RE MINE, will be coming soon. Sign up for my newsletter to stay on top of new releases, giveaways and other fun activities! I also have a wonderful Facebook group that loves to talk about my books. We'd love to have you join us!
If you're caught up on the Callaways, have you tried my new romantic suspense trilogy? BEAUTIFUL STORM is followed by LIGHTNING LINGERS and SUMMER RAIN. Following this note is an excerpt from BEAUTIFUL STORM. Hope you enjoy!
Until next time, happy reading!
Barbara
Excerpt – BEAUTIFUL STORM
(Lightning Strikes Trilogy #1)
From #1 NY Times Bestselling Author Barbara Freethy comes the first book in a new romantic suspense trilogy: Lightning Strikes. In these connected novels, lightning leads to love, danger, and the unraveling of long-buried secrets that will change not only the past but also the future…
When her father's plane mysteriously disappeared in the middle of an electrical storm, Alicia Monroe became obsessed with lightning. Now a news photographer in Miami, Alicia covers local stories by day and chases storms at night. In a flash of lightning, she sees what appears to be a murder, but when she gets to the scene, there is no body, only a military tag belonging to Liliana Valdez, a woman who has been missing
for two months.
While the police use the tag to jump-start their stalled investigation, Alicia sets off on her own to find the missing woman. Her search takes her into the heart of Miami's Cuban-American community, where she meets the attractive but brooding Michael Cordero, who has his own demons to vanquish.
Soon Alicia and Michael are not just trying to save Liliana's life but also their own, as someone will do anything to protect a dark secret…
One
The clouds had been blowing in off the ocean for the last hour, an ominous foreboding of the late September storm moving up the Miami coast. It was just past five o'clock in the afternoon, but the sky was dark as night.
Alicia Monroe drove across Florida's Rickenbacker Causeway toward Virginia Key Park, located on the island of Key Biscayne. Most of the traffic moved in the opposite direction as the island had a tendency to flood during fierce storms. According to the National Weather Service, the storm would bring at least six inches of rain plus high winds, thunder and lightning.
Alicia pressed her foot down harder on the gas. As her tires skidded on the already damp pavement, a voice inside her head told her to slow down, that a picture wasn't worth her life, but the adrenaline charging through her body made slowing down impossible.
She'd been obsessed with electrical storms all her life. She'd grown up hearing her Mayan great-grandmother speak of lightning gods. Her father had also told her tales about the incredible blue balls of fire and red flaming sprites he'd witnessed while flying for the Navy and later as a civilian pilot.
Their stories had enthralled her, but they'd been an embarrassment to the rest of the family, especially when her father had begun to tell his stories outside the family. Neither her mother nor her siblings had appreciated the fact that a former Navy hero was now being referred to as Lightning Man.
Closer To You (Callaways Book 11) Page 27