Across the hall, old Mr. Gallagher stuck his head out his door, took in the sight of Cian’s bare ass, nodded in appreciation, and retreated back into his apartment. As his door slammed, Cian pushed past Sarah into her flat, leaving his clothing in the hall.
“Actually, you said to come see you when I understood that you’re capable of making decisions about your own life.” He cast a glance back over his shoulder as he strode across her living room, heading for her easel. “I’ve always understood that.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.” She winced as he grabbed a tube of cobalt blue oil paint from the tray she’d set beside her easel. “Cian, what are you doing? Put that back.”
“All I wanted to do was prove that I could make you happy. That I could be someone who deserves you.” Undoing the top of the paint tube, he squirted a big glob right onto the tray, then dipped his finger in.
“Cian, what—”
He stroked his blue-covered finger over his arm, then held it up for her read.
I’m sorry.
“I messed up the delivery of it.” He streaked blue paint over his chest as he tossed the first tube aside and picked up a second one in vermillion. “I’ll try to say it better now.”
He squeezed out paint, dipped his finger in, and wrote on his other arm. Sarah had to squint to read it over his tattoos.
Stay or go.
“I don’t ever want to take your choices from you. I understand why you need them.” He tossed aside the vermilion and reached for Naples Yellow, pinning her with his stare as he did. “I want to be with you. I will pursue you. But whether we stay here, or go to America, whether you sell your art or work at the pub or take up knitting, it’s all your choice. I just want you to be happy.”
“Cian…” She swallowed as he opened the yellow paint. “I—”
“Let me finish.” He emptied out the yellow and dipped his finger in that one before starting to scrawl letters on his chest, his movements slow and awkward since he was writing backward and upside down. She was torn between laughing at the ridiculousness of it and crying because of the intensity shining out of every pore of his body.
Finished with the yellow, he set it aside, then turned to face her fully. He covered his paint-streaked chest with his hands as he stood in front of her, naked and completely open.
“It took a lot of bravery to take charge of your own life, and you show that bravery in everything you paint.” He started to drop the hands covering his chest. “If I’m going to be a man who deserves you, I can stop working up convoluted, sneaky ways to show that I care, and just be brave enough to say it.”
I love you.
He loves me.
Holy. Shit.
Her emotions registered with her body before they did with her mind, and she found herself closing the distance between them in hurried steps. She threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.
“I love you, too, you idiot.” Damn it, here came the tears. Sniffing wetly, she buried her face in his neck. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”
Cian fisted a paint-covered hand in her hand, pulling her chin back far enough for him to claim her mouth. She moaned under the fierce assault on her lips, opening for him when his tongue demanded it.
When they pulled apart a moment later, panting, she swallowed and rubbed her fingers over a smear of blue on his cheek. “You know, you could have just said it. Though, I appreciate the, ah, performance aspect of this piece.”
“I haven’t even started the performance aspect.” Dipping his head to nip at the curve of her shoulder with his teeth, he grinned at her resultant shudder. “I have white sheets on the bed in there, yeah?”
She took her lips from his jaw long enough to look up at him questioningly. “Why?”
“Hold on.” Grabbing her ass firmly in one hand, he squeezed as he snagged the tubes of paint he’d used with the other then started down the hall.
“Let’s go make some naked art.”
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Acknowledgments
There are a million people involved in the creation of a book. I’d like to send a heartfelt thank you to those who helped to get Kiss of the Irish out the door: Jenn Mishler (there are no words), Brenda Chin (I’ve wanted to work with this lady for a full decade!), Curtis Svehlak, River Wilson, Tara Gonzalez, Kaitlyn Osborn, and my supportive husband Rob. Thanks also to the Lauren’s Lovelies/ Suzanne and Ava’s Awesome Readers Facebook group for helping me come up with titles for the books in the Foreign Fling series. Thanks to Sara Fawkes, Avery Aster, Cathryn Fox and Vivi Anna for nudging me along on this book. Thank you both to those I’m sure I’ve forgotten due to mom brain, and to those that work behind the scenes whose identities I don’t even get to know! And a final thank you to YOU, the reader, for picking up this book.
About the Author
Author Lauren Hawkeye published her first story in 2007 and has since published over forty short stories, novellas, and novels. Lauren has published with Harlequin Enterprises, New American Library (as Lauren Jameson), Avon Harper Collins and Entangled Books and has also built a strong self-publishing career. One of her favorite new series is co-written with New York Times bestselling author Carly Phillips, a dream come true for her. Lauren’s work has been mentioned in Time magazine.
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Kiss of the Irish (Foreign Fling) Page 16