Forever Dublin (Forever #2)

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Forever Dublin (Forever #2) Page 11

by Brittney Sahin


  I wasn’t sure which Adam was sitting in front of me right now: the boss, Leslie’s friend, or the guy who had kissed me. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

  “I’m dropping off the permission slips for the kids tonight. Are you still planning to come?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” His hand went to his tie, and he fidgeted with the knot. Then his fingers went to the stubble on his chin, and he left them there as if in thought, studying me.

  “Well, given what happened this weekend—”

  “The kiss?” he interrupted, and his hand slipped to his lap, joining the other.

  “No.” Maybe . . . “I was talking about your incident with the door at the gym.”

  A smirk captured his mouth, and he straightened as his foot dropped from the table and to the ground. “Aye.”

  “Yes. Your eye,” I teased.

  “Well,” he said, coming to his feet, “you should see the door.” He closed the short gap between us with one long stride that made my breath hitch in my throat. “Not so lucky.”

  “You still sticking with that story?” I wanted to ask him if someone had attacked him. Had it been one of the guys who’d followed me to Leslie’s apartment? I was still curious what exactly that was about.

  But I didn’t say anything.

  My hands tightened at my sides. He was inches from me. And he was staring right at my lips. “Are you still sticking with your story?” His gaze flickered back up to mine, and I realized something had changed. There was a hint of darkness—or maybe it was hunger—gleaming in the depths of his blue eyes. His mouth was tight. His strong chin and jaw were strained, the muscles clenched as if he was holding himself back.

  I’d seen that look before. Most women know that look, when a guy wants you. I got it even when I didn’t want to see it—from a professor, or a coworker. In line at the grocery store. It could happen anywhere, anytime. And, usually, I hated the look. Actually, I always hated it. But on Adam . . . well, it was different. It felt different.

  And not just because of his sex appeal. Sure, the man had the kind of delicious looks that should be reserved for a sexy hunk calendar for lonely hearts . . . but no, there was something more to it, something that felt more raw, more carnal than the slimy looks I got in bars. It was like he could see right into my soul, like he needed something more from me.

  I was probably crazy to think this. Maybe he was just some rich guy who was into fast cars and had dozens of women waiting to be called for a good time. Maybe I was misreading everything.

  Maybe.

  But maybe not.

  “You want to talk to me?” The rough sound of his voice pulled my attention out of my head.

  “Are you in trouble?” There—I’d said it.

  The “look” disappeared. He tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling as if he might find answers there in the fluorescent lights above. “I’m right as rain.”

  “What does that even mean?” I shook my head and spun around, but his hand captured my wrist, and he pulled me back to him.

  I watched as he swallowed whatever emotions were chewing at him, then pulled my wrist free from his grip.

  His eyes were glued to my hand as it fell heavy at my side. “Sorry, I just—”

  “It’s okay.”

  “We’re at work. I didn’t mean to touch you.”

  “And if we weren’t at work?” My body tensed a little, surprised by how unusual I’d been around Adam. I was usually the one to run and hide, to cower in a corner if things got tough with a guy. I was never flirty, funny, or brave. I was much more comfortable with horses than with people. I truly couldn’t figure out where this “me” was coming from.

  “I’m trying really damn hard to be sorry about the kiss,” he said in a low voice. “I feel like I should apologize again for stepping out of line Saturday.”

  “But?”

  “But my apology would be shit since I don’t mean it.” He blew out a breath and walked past me. He braced both hands on his metal desk and hung his head.

  I wasn’t sure what to say. The clouds in the sky were starting to part, pushing away the dullness of the day, and a spark of light flashed through the window behind his desk. “Adam.”

  The knock at the door had him jerking his head up. I stumbled away from him, worried what others would think about me being in his office.

  “Come in,” Adam called, his spine straightening as his hands folded across his chest. He was a man who looked powerful. Successful. In charge.

  The door opened, and my heart leaped into my throat. It was John. My boss.

  “Anna?” John’s eyes were on me as he walked into the room, a file in his hand.

  “I just called Anna here to congratulate her on winning last week’s do-or-die pitch presentation. You know, the one you always scare the interns with.” Adam smiled at me before looking back at John. “Don’t let this guy scare you,” he added, “he’s really a softy at heart.”

  John smirked as he tossed the file on Adam’s desk.

  “Will that be all, sir?” I tipped my head toward Adam, my hands trembling a little.

  Adam’s eyes narrowed on me the second the word ‘sir’ slipped from my lips. A mischievous smile met his eyes. Oh. Did he find it amusing that I’d called him that? Or did he feel old?

  “That’ll be all, Anna. Good luck at the presentation Wednesday.” Adam nodded at me, and I walked past him, a rush of heat rising through my body. Apparently, Adam had been keeping tabs on us interns, even though he’d promised he didn’t have anything to do with whether we were hired.

  “See you around one, Anna,” John said as I neared the door.

  “Rick and I’ll be ready,” I said before leaving.

  I wasn’t sure what I would tell Rick when I got back to the conference room. He was a great guy, and I really enjoyed working with him, but I also didn’t want him getting dragged through the mud with me. Because if I went down for associating with Adam outside of work, there was no reason Rick should go down with me.

  Fourteen

  Anna

  “Don’t I know you?”

  She had curly brown hair, sad brown eyes, military-boots . . . it was the girl I had given my umbrella to. She was standing in the same spot I’d seen her before, but this time it wasn’t raining.

  What drew me to her as I walked down the street? I found myself intruding on her personal space for the second time.

  “Do you work at the center?” Her somber voice had me shuddering.

  “Oh, um . . . Yeah, I volunteer. Do you hang out there?” I hadn’t seen her before, but surely I hadn’t met everyone. I was only there twice a week.

  “Uh, no.”

  Before I could even think of a response, her back was to me, and she was darting down the street in the opposite direction of the center.

  My stomach somersaulted as a bad feeling snaked up my spine.

  The second I stepped inside the center I went straight over to a few of the kids. “Conor, Chloe, Jenna—can I ask you a question?” I plopped my bag down on the floor and took off my coat.

  “Hey, Anna. What’s up?” Jenna asked.

  “I saw a girl outside. She was maybe sixteen, seventeen, with curly brown hair. And, um, brown eyes. I’ve seen her twice there now, and I—do you know her?”

  I was pretty sure there were a lot of people who’d match my award-winning description, but Conor and Jenna exchanged looks. Jenna rolled her eyes at Conor as her lips drew in a straight line.

  There was that bad feeling again.

  “Am I missing something?”

  “Um, I think that’s—” Chloe started.

  “When did you see her?” Conor interrupted. “And where?” It had only taken me about five minutes on my first day to realize that a lot of these kids were wise beyond their years, and Conor was one of them. It was like they had been forced to grow up far faster than they were supposed to.

  “Just a minute ago, outside that store—Clarke
’s.”

  Conor turned toward the exit.

  “Wait!” I shouted, prepared to chase after him if necessary.

  Jenna’s hand on my arm kept me in place. “Don’t follow him, Anna.” Her voice was pleading. But why?

  I technically had no control over the kids or their whereabouts—they came to and from the center at their discretion. It was a haven for them, not a prison or school. It was hard for me to imagine someone as young as twelve or even sixteen roaming a busy city alone, but then again, this wasn’t Kentucky.

  “Should I be worried? I feel like I should say something to Adam.”

  “Can you wait? Adam kind of goes big brother on us all, and he has enough stress. I don’t want him to worry anymore. And besides, I doubt that’s actually her . . .” Jenna bit her thumbnail as she looked at me.

  “And who is ‘her’?” I looked to Chloe when Jenna remained silent.

  “I’m starving!” Chloe rushed toward the kitchen, leaving me even more worried than before.

  When I looked back at Jenna, she was staring over my shoulder. I peeked back to see Conor coming in through the door, shaking his head.

  He must not have found the girl.

  “We’ve got this, Anna. Don’t worry.” Jenna nodded before going to join Conor. Once again, I was shocked at her maturity, her easy confidence.

  I couldn’t give up so easily, however. I went over to one of the other volunteers, Missy, who was pouring beef stew onto plates in the kitchen area. I described the girl I’d seen, but the woman shrugged.

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about, sorry. I only started here last month,” Missy answered.

  There was only one other volunteer here tonight: an elderly man who was playing chess with Alec, one of the younger kids. “Sounds familiar,” he said. “But we have so many kids that come in and out of here—I can’t keep up with all their names. If anyone would know, it’d be Adam. His memory is sharper than mine.” He looked at Alec. “You know her?”

  Alec placed his hands in the air, palms up.

  Great.

  Well, I could ask Adam about the girl when we were at the farm. Maybe I was overreacting and reading too much into the situation, but it was probably better to be safe than sorry.

  That night, I closed up the center once everyone had gone home and stepped outside, a chill rushing up my spine as I assessed the darkness. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to leave the center only after everyone else had gone.

  As the door clanked shut behind me, however, I looked to the street and realized I wasn’t alone.

  Adam was leaning against his car, staring down at the ground. The nearby street lamp cast a soft glow over him. He was in jeans and a brown, faded leather jacket that was open to a white tee.

  He looked up at me, the shadows from the light playing off his face. “Hi.” He pushed off the car and strode toward me as I remained standing in front of the door.

  “Hi,” I returned in a soft voice, not sure what to make of his presence. “What are you doing here? Were you waiting for me?” I had checked my phone before locking up and there weren’t any missed calls. “Is something wrong?”

  He stopped in front of me, and I couldn’t help but stare at the bruise around his eye. I wished he’d tell me the truth about what had happened. “I’ve been busy, but I wanted to come here. I needed something to remind me—” He stopped himself and took a step back as if he could hardly stand to be so close to me. “As I drove here, I realized I probably shouldn’t see the kids. Not with my eye. I don’t want them to get the wrong idea. My eye should be better by Saturday, though. No worries.”

  “So why are you here then?”

  He shrugged. “I was driving around . . . and around . . . and found myself here, wanting to see you.”

  “Which is confusing,” I blurted.

  “Damn. I know.” He turned from me, his hand blazing down the back of his head. “Let me drive you home.” He spun back around, almost bumping into me. “Or we could even walk.” He cleared his throat as he looked down at me, his eyes glossy from the dim lighting. “It’s a beautiful night.”

  “I should say no.”

  I’d meant to think those words, not speak them.

  “Don’t.”

  “Okay,” I whispered without thinking.

  What was wrong with me?

  “Maybe a walk would be nice,” I rationalized, trying to make the moment something other than what it was. “I’d love to see the city at night. I’ve been too afraid to venture out on my own.”

  “Good to hear. I don’t like the idea of you roaming about by yourself.”

  We walked past his Porsche as he pushed his hands into his pockets. “What about your car?”

  “I’ll get it later. Let’s take the scenic way back to the hotel.” A smile lit his cheek.

  I paused as we neared the end of the street, just before we would join the crowd of pedestrians walking on the busy sidewalk.

  “Adam?” He stopped and looked over his shoulder at me. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” He turned his whole self to face me now.

  I fidgeted with the strap of my purse and chewed at my lip. “For helping me. For letting me work with these kids. And I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, and please don’t think less of me for what I’m going to say . . .” I wasn’t sure what possessed me to admit this—it might kill the small chance I had to get a permanent position at McGregor Enterprises. “I kind of enjoy the work I’m doing here more than the work I do at your office.”

  Adam pressed a hand to his chest. “Can I tell you a secret?” His lips spread into a grin. “I do, too.” Then his back was to me again, and he joined the crowd on the sidewalk. I wondered if I should tell him about the girl tonight, but I decided I’d try and talk to the kids about it once more. Trust was a fragile thing, especially if I had yet to earn it with the kids.

  A moment later, I collected myself well enough to walk after him.

  When I finally caught up, we walked together, brushing alongside Dubliners as the night came to life around us. The restaurants and pubs overflowed with people sitting shoulder to shoulder in the outdoor seating areas. The air was crisp and refreshing—entirely too nice to remain inside. Of course, if I hadn’t been wearing my tall boots and jacket, I’d probably be freezing my ass off. It was still a lot colder in Dublin than in Kentucky in September.

  Ten minutes later, Adam pointed to a narrow, charming white bridge, which crossed a strip of water that we’d neared. “This is the Ha’Penny Bridge.” He reached for my hand. “Come on.” The second his fingers laced with mine, I lost all sense of reason. The warmth, his touch . . . it felt so damn right that I knew no good would come of it.

  But I didn’t let that stop me. I kept my fingers locked with his as we walked beneath the first curved white arch and stepped up onto the bridge. I looked out over the pedestrian bridge, where a beautiful array of colors reflected from the city buildings, dancing on the still water.

  “Back in the day they used to charge money to cross the bridge. Hence the name.” He stopped when we reached the mid-point and gently tugged me to one side. He braced a hand on the white metal. “Ever heard of the lover’s locks? People used to put padlocks on the bridge to symbolize their love. In a lot of cities, actually. But governments everywhere have been removing them.”

  I vaguely remembered that, but I thought that was only in Italy. “That’s kind of sad.”

  Adam was looking down at our clasped hands, and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize—” He released his grip and took a step back, turning away from me.

  “Um. So, where to next?” I tried to cut through the awkwardness, to pretend nothing was wrong. I was enjoying our stroll through the city, and I wasn’t ready for it to end.

  “Do you like reading?” he asked over his shoulder, walking again. With two long strides, I caught up.

  “Of course. Why do you ask?” I smiled at him.

&n
bsp; “Come on then.” We stepped off the edge of the bridge, crossed the road, and started past a row of colorful five-story buildings.

  He didn’t speak for the next few blocks, and I wondered if he was too afraid after the hand-holding incident.

  A couple minutes later we stopped outside a pair of black metal gates, which led to a massive stone arched entryway. Adam opened his arms wide. “Welcome to my beloved Trinity College.” His accent seemed thicker and even more Irish as he spoke.

  I hated that I loved the sound of his voice so much.

  We passed by two statues and stepped through the gates. I felt as if I were stepping into a whole new world. Massive stone structures with domed roofs surrounded me on both sides, and many of the buildings had Romanesque columns. It was stunning.

  As we passed through the courtyard, I looked over at the large blue clock on one of the buildings, surprised at how late it already was.

  “You coming, love?”

  I blinked a few times as my gaze landed back on Adam. I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped walking.

  “This place is beautiful.” He smiled at me as I quick-stepped to catch up with him.

  “I thought you’d appreciate it.”

  “This is where you went to school?” My boots slapped loud against the pavement as we moved through the campus.

  “Aye. All of my family has gone here. It’s a tradition.”

  Oh, how nice. I hurried after Adam and up the steps that he’d climbed leading to the entrance of a nearby building.

  Once inside I spun around and looked . . . well, everywhere. The arched ceilings had beautiful strips of dark wood running across them. The impressive height and design were like a dream. Had I stepped into an 18th-century library?

  Slicing straight through the center of the long room were rows of display cases featuring ancient books and pages, and on each side of the aisle were shelves of books and the busts of famous people. The rows of books were roped off. That was too bad—I’d love to run my fingers across the spines.

  As I moved down the aisle, trying not to bump into other people, I couldn’t help but smile at the rolling ladders propped against the shelves. “I wish I could climb one of those ladders.” I giggled. “I always wanted to be Belle in Beauty and the Beast.”

 

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