Wild Irish Rebel

by O'Malley, Tricia

  Morgan quickly pulled her hand away and continued to dab the napkin at the wet stain on her pants.

  "Um, yes, I suppose that I know you're interested."

  "So, can I take you to dinner?" Patrick asked.

  "Um, well, it's just that, you see…I don't date," Morgan said, continuing to wipe her pants, refusing to meet his eyes.

  "Ever?" Patrick's voice rose up on a high note at the end of his words.

  "Well, um, no, I guess not," Morgan said sheepishly and finally met his eyes.

  "And you're not willing to try?" Patrick asked, surprise etched on his face.

  "I just…I don't know if I'm ready," Morgan said lamely, her hands flopping around in front of her.

  "Why? What happened to you?" Patrick said fiercely and Morgan immediately felt her walls go up. She took a deep breath before answering, remembering Baird's advice to try to form bonds with people. She reached out with her mind and scanned Patrick's, finding nothing but concern and genuine interest there.

  Still, she found that she wasn't quite ready to talk about her past.

  "I'm just not looking to date right now. I really want to focus on my new job," Morgan said, side-stepping the question.

  "What about friends, then?" Patrick asked.

  Morgan tilted her head at him and raised an eyebrow.

  "Friends?"

  "Yes, friends. I'd like to be your friend," Patrick said, surprising her yet again with his agile mind and how quickly he changed subjects.

  "You want us to be friends?" Morgan asked.

  "Yes, friends. Like this…sharing a pint. Grabbing a bite to eat. Going for a hike," Patrick said as he packed the glasses back into the small cooler that he had brought with him.

  "That sounds suspiciously like dating," Morgan said as Patrick rose from the bench.

  "Not if I don't kiss you," he said easily over his shoulder and with that, he disappeared from the courtyard.

  Morgan found her mouth gaping open and she closed it with a snap, before laughing softly to herself.

  It looked like Patrick had won that round, she thought.

  Smiling, she traced her fingertips over her lips. Her first real kiss…and aside from her cider floating in the air, nothing traumatic had happened.

  Morgan considered that a win on her behalf.

  Chapter Seven

  Morgan pulled nervously at a crease in her pants. Though she still resolutely went to her free sessions with Baird, it had yet to get any easier to open up about her feelings. Last night, she'd barely been able to sleep – between the excitement of accepting the job with Aislinn and her first kiss, she'd been all but bouncing off the walls of her small apartment.

  "You had a smashing first day on the job," Baird said, smiling at her, and Morgan felt a little wave of relief go through her. He was opening with an easy topic. She leaned back against the couch and pulled a pillow onto her lap like she usually did.

  Protection.

  "Well, it was sheer luck that those buses unloaded in front of the store," Morgan said, downplaying her role in the sales.

  Baird tilted his head at her and pushed his glasses back up his nose. Aislinn concealed a small sigh as she admired his good looks. It was something about the glasses, she thought. It just pushed him over the edge into sexy. Aislinn was a lucky woman.

  "And I suppose it was someone else who managed long lines out of the store and carefully rung everyone up? And it was someone else who rearranged the gallery to look like an elite artist's studio?"

  Morgan shrugged her shoulders and fought to keep a shy grin off her face.

  "Yes, I suppose that I did all that."

  "You should be proud of yourself, Morgan," Baird said, "We certainly are."

  Morgan shrugged again and looked around the room, taking in Aislinn's moody landscapes on the walls.

  "I'm trying to get better at being proud of myself," Morgan admitted.

  "Why do you think that is hard for you? To praise yourself? To acknowledge that you've done a good job?"

  Morgan shrugged again.

  "I don't know. I suppose it seems boastful."

  "Being proud of doing a good job and being arrogant are two different things," Baird said. "There's something deeper there. What is it?"

  Morgan was surprised to feel sadness well up inside of her and a sheen of tears crossed her vision. She supposed that she shouldn't be surprised as she almost always ended up crying in sessions with Baird.

  "I guess…I guess I just feel like I don't deserve it."

  "And why is that?"

  "Because nobody ever wanted me. I was never good enough."

  "Ah," Baird said and leaned back, crossing his legs as he studied her. "So, just because you weren't the right fit for some foster homes means that you never deserve to shine? That you should always feel like you aren't good enough even when you clearly did a fantastic job?"

  "I guess it's weird when you say it like that," Morgan said, reaching for a tissue to dab at her eyes. She was glad that she didn't wear makeup as it would be running all over her face at this point.

  "See, the thing is, from where I'm sitting, I see an incredibly beautiful and wildly talented young woman. I want you to start working on self-affirmations."

  Morgan scrunched up her nose at Baird.

  He laughed at her. "Just give it a chance. I need you to praise yourself for one good thing that you do a day. And, just for a moment, allow yourself to feel the pleasure that comes with doing a good job or whatever it may be. Don't ask yourself if you deserve it or are good enough, just step back for a moment and praise yourself."

  "So give myself a pep talk?"

  "Something like that. You need to allow yourself to feel how positive thoughts about yourself will affect who you are and how you react to people."

  Morgan cleared her throat and looked away. "Speaking of that…"

  "Yes?"

  "I, um, you know…talking about reacting to people," Morgan stuttered.

  "Just spit it out, Morgan." Baird smiled easily at her.

  "Patrick kissed me. And it was great. Until I spilled a pint all over myself," Morgan said in a rush of words. Just thinking about it again had her heart hammering in her chest and sweat breaking out across her back. It had been glorious and embarrassing all in the same moment.

  "How did you spill the pint?"

  "Um, that's one of those things that uh…" Morgan made a swirly motion with her finger and pointed at her head.

  "Something with your ability?"

  Baird knew all about Morgan's abilities. Probably more than any of the women in town knew. He'd promised her client confidentiality and from what Morgan could see in his mind so far, he'd never broken it. Not to mention she'd given him quite the display a few months back when in a fit of anger she'd made a glass rise and dump water all over his head.

  "Well, so, the only time this kind of stuff happens is when I am dreaming," Morgan began and Baird stopped her.

  "Did you have a bad dream?"

  "Aye, the other night, it's fine." Morgan shrugged it off.

  "Tell me what happens during the dreams."

  "I…I am back in the bed that the nuns tied me to. I see their faces swirling above me in a circle, their voices chanting in Latin, candlelight flickering. It's me but it's not me. When I wake up, pretty much everything in the room that isn't attached to the floor is hovering in the air. I have to work pretty hard to calm myself down and lower the furniture quietly."

  Baird swore under his breath which coaxed a smile from Morgan. It was one of the things that she always liked about him. He seemed relatable and not some sort of stuffy doctor type.

  "You know that this was child abuse. What they did was horribly wrong," Baird said.

  "Aye, I know."

  "You'll need to find a way to take their power away," Baird said simply and Morgan's eyes shot up to meet his.

  "I never thought of it like that."

  "It's true. They have power over you. Even from miles
away and years ago. We'll need to think up something that we can do…some sort of ritual to allow you to release the power they have over you." Baird leaned back and watched Morgan. "You know, Fiona would be perfect for this."

  Morgan looked determinedly over his head.

  "Not ready for that?"

  "I don't know."

  "Tell me about the pint," Baird said, swiftly changing subjects.

  "Oh, so we were sitting in the courtyard behind the gallery. He'd surprised me with a pint because he heard about my job."

  "Nice of him," Baird observed.

  "It was," Morgan agreed, "and, for the first time, I was able to relax around him. We have some stuff in common what with managing businesses and whatnot."

  "Go on." Baird gestured with his hand.

  "Well, we were talking and I just kind of leaned over the table and he told me that he was going to kiss me. I think he was a little worried about what had happened the last time, so he gave me fair warning. I didn't stop him." Morgan blushed as she thought about his lips on her and how her body had seemed to burn from within. "I liked it. A lot. It was my first kiss," she whispered.

  "I'm not surprised about that," Baird commented and Morgan raised an eyebrow at him.

  "How come?" Morgan demanded.

  "Ah, well, you are fairly standoffish. It would be tough for any guy to break down that barrier. It has nothing to do with your looks or personality though. You just put a big "back off" sign up."

  "I suppose that I do," Morgan said.

  "So? The pint?"

  "Ah, yes, we were kissing and I felt the pint bump my arm. I opened my eyes to see it and the ice bucket floating in the air! Thank God, Patrick's eyes were closed. I tried my hardest to lower them both but I didn't do too well with the pint."

  Baird laughed.

  "Sorry, it isn't funny but it is."

  Morgan smiled at him, finally able to laugh at herself. "It is kind of funny."

  "I think that you need to learn to control your powers when you are distracted. Have you had any training in that or any idea how to do so?" Baird asked.

  Morgan just shook her head at Baird. "None."

  "I know you don't want to hear this…" he began.

  "Fiona," Morgan said on a sigh.

  "Bingo."

  "Maybe I'll drive out there after work or something," Morgan agreed. Though she knew that she was just saying that to placate Baird. Morgan had only met Fiona on a few occasions and the healer had looked at her like she knew all of Morgan's secrets.

  "How did you leave things with Patrick?" Baird asked.

  Morgan slammed her fist onto her leg and looked at Baird, her eyebrows raised.

  "He wants to be friends!" Morgan said, indignation lacing her voice.

  "Does he now?"

  Morgan felt herself nibbling on her lower lip as consternation filled her. "I told him that I didn't date and he just…was fine with it. Said he'd be my friend then." She crossed her legs to keep her foot from tapping the floor.

  "Friends are good to have," Baird said.

  Morgan rolled her eyes at him. "Either he is interested in me or he isn't. There is no in between."

  "But there can be," Baird said with a slow smile. "The best types of relationships start from friendships."

  "I don't know if I can be in a relationship," Morgan admitted softly and was surprised to feel a soft yearning fill her. She'd been so used to not forming bonds and not having a home, that having a healthy, normal relationship had never really seemed like an option for her. It was almost too much at once.

  "You can. Be patient with yourself, you don't need to figure this out today. It takes time," Baird said gently.

  Time, Morgan thought. For once in her life she had time to stay in one place and figure her life out. A smile slipped across her lips and she looked up at Baird, hope filling her heart.

  "Then time is what I'll take."

  Chapter Eight

  morgan found herself laughing freely with a local who had wandered into the gallery later that day. Her early morning session with Baird had done something to loosen some of the constant tension that she carried around with her. It was almost like she could step a little lighter and not take things so seriously.

  "You're a lovely girl, now where is it you come from again?" A softly rounded woman with smiling blue eyes leaned casually on the counter. Instead of brushing off the question, Morgan took a deep breath and smiled into the woman's friendly eyes.

  "By way of Killarney," she said easily, not bothering to expand.

  "Ah, lovely town. What brings you to Grace's Cove?"

  Morgan thought about how to answer that as she wrapped up the prints that the woman was sending to her niece in the States.

  "Well, just look at it here. It's hard not to fall in love with this town," Morgan said, hoping that the woman accepted her answer.

  Her smiled widened and she nodded at Morgan. "Quite right, you are. Well, we're happy to have you. You've certainly done a wonderful job with the gallery. You should come to the pub more, we'd love to see you out."

  Morgan made a noncommittal noise while silently congratulating herself on carrying on a successful conversation with a local. It wasn't so hard after all. Though she knew from experience that deeper questions always followed. For now, she was happy to make a connection and hoped that it would improve her reputation around town. It was obvious that people were curious about her past and when they couldn't uncover details, the rumor mill typically started working.

  "See you at the pub tonight?"

  "I'll try my best," Morgan said with a wave and blew out a breath of air as the door closed after her inquisitive customer.

  "Okay, back to business," Morgan murmured and went to the computer to check the gallery's online orders. "Wow," Morgan said as she scanned the list. Checking her inventory sheet, she immediately updated any listings that would need to be backordered so as not to upset any customers and then moved to her prints file.

  Pulling out the first one, she smiled at the picture of the cove where both the setting sun and the moon rising could be seen together. It was one of their most popular prints and Morgan knew that Keelin had the original over the mantle in her home. She carefully slid the print into the custom-sized envelope and then wrapped a twine strand around it in a bow, pressing a small dried flower to the middle along with the card of the gallery. She added a handwritten thank you on the back of the card. It was a small touch that Morgan added and she smiled down at it, knowing that their clients would appreciate the extra personal touch.

  Humming to herself, she continued to work her way through the list and jumped when the tinkle of the little bell over the door surprised her from her reverie.

  "Patrick!"

  She was surprised by how excited she was to see him. Typically seeing Patrick just made her nervous but something had shifted for her the other day. Not to mention Baird's comment about being patient with herself to help her to relieve a little of the pressure.

  "Hi, Morgan. I was just leaving the coffee shop and thought that I would bring you a tea."

  Morgan raised an eyebrow at the takeaway cup he held in his hand. A t-shirt with Gallagher's Pub emblazoned across it hugged his muscular chest and his hair looked like the wind had tousled it a bit. It shouldn't have been as sexy as it was, and yet… Morgan felt a little tug low in her belly.

  "That's quite kind of you. Something that friends do for each other, is it?" Morgan raised an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms over her chest.

  A raspy laugh fell from his lips and she found herself smiling at Patrick as he shrugged his shoulders.

  "Sure and can't I bring a friend a cup of tea?" he asked, returning her raised eyebrow with one of his own.

  "You can," Morgan said, backing down. She reached out to grab the tea from him and gasped as little shivers of sensation slipped up her arm when her hand brushed across his.

  "Too hot?" Patrick said, his voice heavy with meaning.

 
Morgan found herself staring into his eyes, her mind drawing a complete blank, as warmth filled her. She licked her suddenly dry lips and tried to think of something to say.

  "Dear God, Morgan, if you keep licking your lips and looking at me with those big eyes, I'm going to take you upstairs and show you something really hot."

  Morgan felt the blood rush from her face and a trickle of panic fill her. Right along with a wave of lust that slammed into her gut. Maybe going upstairs wouldn't be a bad idea after all.

  Patrick's mouth dropped open.

  "You're actually considering it," he said and moved in quickly, putting the tea on the counter behind her and caging her in with his arms. Morgan gulped as she felt the press of the hard counter into her back, and the hard length of Patrick on her front.

  "I…I," she stuttered, unable to look away from his face.

  "I'm going to kiss you again," Patrick said, warning her in advance.

  Morgan could only nod. It was what she secretly wanted. She'd replayed the kiss from the other night several times, each time making her feel warm and lovely inside. She'd be lying if she said that she didn't want another taste. Praying that everything in the shop didn't go flying off the walls, Morgan closed her eyes as Patrick's lips brushed softly over hers.

  The taste of him was sweet, mixed with something darker, a promise to be remembered, a wish to be given. Morgan moaned slightly as she pressed into Patrick, running her hands up his hard chest, allowing him to slip his tongue between her lips. A wave of lust washed through her, so dizzying in its promise that she stumbled against him. Patrick wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer until she melded to every inch of him.

  "Whoops," Aislinn said softly from behind them and Morgan jumped back, tears immediately pricking her eyes, anger and embarrassment slamming into her. Needing an outlet, she turned on Patrick.

  "You shouldn't have done this at my work," Morgan seethed at Patrick, and Patrick raised his hands, backing up a step.

  "Hey, Morgan, it's fine," Aislinn said immediately, reading Morgan's feelings.

  Morgan swiped at her eyes angrily and turned to Aislinn.