Loving Irish

by Katy Regnery

  “You know you can say anything to me,” said Ian. “Anything.”

  “I don’t—I don’t know…” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from him, her voice trailing off.

  Taking a risk, Ian dropped his hands to her shoulders. “Please, baby. Tell me. Talk to me.”

  She lifted her face when he called her “baby,” blinking at him in surprise. Her lips tilted up in a sad smile. “What would have happened? For us? If Vicky hadn’t…I mean, if we’d…”

  “I know what you mean,” said Ian, removing his hands at the mention of Vicky Lafontaine. He let them fall to his sides, his shoulders drooping with regret.

  “I really want to know,” said Hallie softly. “I want to know what you think would have happened between us.”

  He pulled out a chair for her, holding it as she sat down, then pulled out another for himself, turning the back to her and straddling it to face her.

  “I know what I wanted to happen.”

  Her eyes were glistening, but she didn’t cry. “What? Tell me. What did you want?”

  “You, Halcyon. I wanted you,” he said. He took a deep breath and let it go slowly. “That particular night, I wanted to make love to you. I…I wanted to be with you, to touch you, to watch your face when you…when we…” He took another breath, but it was shallow and ragged this time. His voice was low and gravelly when he continued. “I wanted to feel you next to me afterward while we fell asleep.”

  She nodded at him in encouragement, reaching up to wipe away a tear.

  “Beyond that night,” he said, thinking about his plans for them, “I wanted to stay together. I had this idea that you’d go to Stanford and I’d go to BU, and we’d write and call and see each other at Christmas. I felt like…” He scrubbed his hands over his face, grateful to finally have a chance to tell her these things but overwhelmed by them too, by the rawness of his feelings as he told her everything that had slipped through his fingers that night. “I felt like that night was the beginning of forever for us. I wanted…I wanted forever, Halcyon.”

  A small, sad sob escaped through her lips, and she bent her head, clenching her hands together in her lap. Unable to bear it, Ian bolted from his chair to kneel before her, taking her hands in his as she cried.

  “I am so sorry,” he said, barely able to see their hands through his own tears. “I am so sorry, Halcyon. So sorry, mo chroi.”

  “My…heart…” she whispered through tears.

  “Yes.” Ian squeezed her hands, staring back at her and nodding. “Mo chroí. My heart.”

  “Do you…” She took a ragged breath, raising her head to meet his eyes. “Do you think we would still be together?”

  Without hesitation, Ian nodded. “Yeah.”

  She nodded too, her face crumpling into more tears. “Me too.”

  Letting go of one of her hands, he reached for her cheek, brushing away her tears with the pad of his thumb before palming the soft skin. He searched her eyes. “Is it too late, Halcyon?”

  She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing for a moment as she took a deep, shuddering breath. But just as she was about to answer, his phone started buzzing.

  Buzz. Buzz, buzz.

  “Ignore it,” he said.

  She shook her head. “It might be Rory. It’s his wedding day.”

  Honestly? Ian had all but forgotten where he was and what day it was. But she was right. It was Rory’s day. Still holding her hand, he dropped his other hand from her face and took his phone from his breast pocket, hitting “Answer.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Ian? Where are you?” Rory, just as she’d suspected.

  Shit. Think fast. “Uh. Had to go to the john.”

  “They’re about to announce us. Can you finish up and get over here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And if you see Hallie, tell her we need her too!”

  “Will do.” The line went dead, and Ian pocketed the phone, looking up at Hallie. “They’re about to announce the bride and groom. We need to get back in there.”

  She nodded, slipping her hand from his so she could swipe the tears from her cheeks. “Oh, God. I’ve been crying. I’m a mess!”

  “I’ve never seen you more beautiful,” said Ian, standing up and offering her his hand. “Can we finish this conversation later?”

  She took his hand, rising from the chair and smoothing her dress. “Yes. Or maybe tomorrow. Another time. Tonight isn’t—it’s not the right time.”

  This answer frustrated Ian, though he had to agree with her. Stealing random minutes at his brother’s wedding wasn’t ideal for such an important conversation. He’d already waited ten years for this talk; he supposed he could wait another day.

  “Ready?” he asked, squeezing her hand.

  She looked up at him, and he hadn’t been lying before: she was so beautiful in his eyes, it gave him the shivers. “I’m ready, Irish.”

  They left the little break room, and Ian changed his grip on her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, his heart swelling when, instead of pulling away, she pressed her palm flush to his. His body reacted too, his blood heating, tearing through his body and pooling below his belly. He wanted her as much today as he had that night—more, maybe. For the last ten years, he’d missed her so desperately, every drink he took trying to mask the pain of losing her. But now? In this moment? For the first time since that terrible morning, the future felt…hopeful. Like maybe, just maybe, there was another chance for them; like maybe fate wasn’t finished writing their story.

  They slipped from the hallway back into the reception, and Ian was grateful that the crowd around the door was thick and deep so they could blend into the mass. He tugged on her hand, moving them toward the front door. Just outside, through the windows, he could see Tierney and Burr holding hands, ready to walk into the dining room after being announced. But what struck Ian the most was the look on his sister’s face.

  Happiness.

  Such pure happiness, he knew that Burr had jumped the gun and asked her to marry him.

  Turning back to Hallie, he caught her eyes and grinned, relieved when she smiled back at him. It felt good to see her smile, like maybe their talk had lightened some of the burden she’d been carrying around all day.

  “Excuse us,” he said to a couple standing between them and the door.

  They moved aside and Ian pulled Hallie outside with him, letting the door to the dining hall close behind him. Tierney looked up at him, and Ian beamed at her. He didn’t need a peek at her finger to know that there was now a ring on it.

  “Comhghairdeas, Tierney,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss on her cheek. “Tá grá agam duit, little sister.”

  She smiled up at him. “I’m engaged!”

  “I could tell the moment I looked at you.” He turned to Burr, who stood beside Tierney with his arm around her shoulders. “Congrats, brother.”

  “I promise to make her happy,” said Burr, drawing Tierney’s hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles.

  “You already do that,” said Tierney, standing on tiptoes to swap her knuckles for her lips.

  “Ian!” yelled Rory from behind Tierney and Burr. “Can you please get in here? They’re going to announce Tier and Burr, then you and Hallie, then us. We’re going to dance, and then they’ll tell you guys to join in. Got it?”

  “Got it,” said Ian, looking down at Hallie as he slid into line between his brother and sister. “I guess we’re going to dance.”

  “I can’t remember the last time we danced.”

  “I can,” whispered Ian, leaning down close to her ear. “Fourth of July. After the fireworks.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes luminous in the light reflected from the dining hall, and smiled. “That’s right. You have a good memory.”

  “Where you’re concerned, I do.”

  “…the groom’s sister and the happy couple’s friend, Tierney Haven and Burr O’Leary!”

  Tierney and Burr stepped
forward through the door, walking into the reception to the roar of clapping and cheers.

  “We’re next,” said Ian, untangling her fingers from his and placing them in the crook of his elbow to escort her inside.

  “…the groom’s brother and the bride’s best friend, Ian Haven and Halcyon Gilbert!”

  The door opened again, and Ian walked into the reception with Hallie on his arm to the cheers of the guests, who made an aisle for the wedding party that extended from the front door to the dance floor. Ian and Hallie took their place in front of the band by Tierney and Burr, waiting for Rory and Brittany to join them.

  “And now…for the first time, may we introduce to you…Mr. and Mrs. Rory Haven—Rory and Brittany!”

  Rory and Britt took their place in the center of the dance floor as the band started playing “I Love You (For Sentimental Reasons),” with the lead singer giving an excellent Sam Cooke–style cover.

  Though his eyes were focused on his brother and truly, in the depths of Ian’s heart, he was overjoyed for Rory’s happiness, he was hyperaware of the woman standing beside him with her fingers curled into the black fabric of his tux. The energy between them hummed, a galvanizing gathering, and Ian could feel it like a palpable, living thing.

  I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…

  The words were everywhere.

  Coming from the voice of the singer.

  In Rory’s eyes as he gazed at his wife.

  In Tierney’s as she smiled at her fiancé.

  And in Ian’s heart as he reached for Hallie’s hand and covered it with his.

  Love.

  Everywhere.

  “And now we’d like to invite the wedding party to join Rory and Brittany on the dance floor!”

  Ian took Hallie’s hand, his breath catching when she looked up at him to meet his steady gaze. She offered him her hand and he took it, reaching for her waist to pull her closer. Her other hand landed on his shoulder, her fingers curling a little into the fabric as they had in his elbow. Sliding his hand to the middle of her back, he tightened the distance between them so that her chest grazed his with every movement, so that he could feel her breathing, so that he could almost feel the beats of her heart.

  He bent his elbow to draw her hand to his chest, flattening it over his own heart, then covering it with his and holding it there as he stared deeply into her eyes.

  It’s beating for you, Halcyon.

  It’s only beating for you.

  He felt her quick intake of breath as she leaned forward, brushing her cheek against his jaw and resting it on the collar of his shirt. His eyes closed slowly, soaking in this moment and committing it to memory, should it be the final time he ever held her.

  All too soon, the song ended. His eyes opened slowly as she lifted her head.

  “Thanks for the dance,” she said.

  “Halcyon,” he said, “I want—”

  “Mr. Haven! Me next!”

  Hallie’s lips tilted up in a grin, and they looked down at the same time to see Jenny standing beside them, tugging on the bottom of Ian’s jacket. And even though he was dying for more time alone with her mother, Jenny never failed to get a genuine smile from Ian.

  “Are you asking me to dance, ladybug?”

  “Yes, I am!” she said, reaching her arms up so he’d lift her.

  Still smiling, Hallie let go of his shoulder and released his hand so he could dance with Jenny to Billy Joel’s “The Longest Time.”

  For the rest of the reception, Ian’s heart felt lighter than it had in years.

  It wasn’t that Hallie had necessarily said anything reassuring to him or given him actual hope for a second chance, but it felt like something important had changed between them. At the wedding, her mood had felt like sadness to him, but since talking to her, it felt different, like moving forward. And the way she’d let him take her hand, and how they’d danced together? Hate didn’t seem to be a part of the equation anymore. And damn but he was eager to talk to her about everything and find out what had changed, but he was also eager to enjoy the changes: the way her eyes caught his over dinner, the way she danced with him twice more, the way she asked him—toward the end of the night when she found Jenny asleep at the kids’ table—if he’d walk them home.

  Maybe that was the biggest miracle of all, he mused as he carried her sleeping baby in his arms through the dark, cool Summerhaven night. She’d asked him for help. Him. When she could have asked anyone else. She asked him.

  They made small talk as they walked, speaking of the wedding and the reception and the little girl in Ian’s arms.

  “She’s going to sleep well tonight,” said Hallie, her heels crunching over leaves as they made their way through the woods to her cottage.

  “Are you going to the brunch tomorrow?” asked Ian.

  “We’re planning on it. You?”

  “Yeah. I want to say good-bye to Rory and Britt.”

  “Three weeks in Ireland,” said Hallie. “Sounds like heaven.”

  “Have you ever been?”

  “No,” she said. “To England, yes. Never to Ireland.”

  I’ll take you sometime, he thought, then grimaced at his eagerness.

  His heart was flying after tonight, and he needed to slow down. Did it feel like things were changing? It did. But one, he didn’t want to get his hopes up too much. And two, Ian knew well that change was a funny thing. It could happen in fits and spurts. A lot of change today, then none for a while as they both acclimated. No sense in wanting more than she was able to offer. Best to move at her speed.

  “It’s beautiful,” he said. “When I was a kid we went every other year. And all of us studied abroad in Ireland.”

  “I studied in Paris,” she said.

  “I didn’t know,” he said, suddenly realizing how much he wanted to know. He’d like to spend a million hours learning the secrets of Hallie.

  The light over her front door came into view—a spark of brightness in the darkness of the evening, and their conversation drifted off as she opened her purse to find her keys. They jingled as she adjusted them in her hands.

  Last time he’d carried Jenny home—after the campfire with the Rileys—Hallie had reached for Jenny and taken her from his arms. This time, she unlocked the door and opened it, preceding Ian into her house and closing the door behind him. He followed her through the great room and past the kitchen to the back bedroom that she shared with her daughter. As gently as possible, he placed her little girl on the bed, then bent down and kissed her forehead.

  “’Night, ladybug,” he whispered.

  He straightened up to find Hallie looking at him intently, her eyes liquid and vulnerable, her lips parted.

  “Before,” he said, “at the reception…I asked if you thought it was too late for us.” The need to touch her was so overwhelming, he reached for her face, cupping her cheeks reverently, his heart racing when she covered his hands with her own. “I need you to know…it’s not too late for me. It will never be too late for me because even after everything that happened, I still believe in us. I—I believe in us, Halcyon. And if I love you hard enough, and long enough, with my entire heart and my entire soul, I believe you’ll love me back. You’ll find a way to love me again.”

  Bright blue and shining, her eyes searched his face, tracing the lines wrought from years of drinking and sadness, her gaze finally landing on his lips.

  And maybe he should have leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead as he had Jenny, but that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to kiss her like a man kisses the woman he loves. And if that wasn’t what she wanted, she could push him away and he’d go.

  He drew her face closer, angling it up to his, and let his lips fall, with unerring precision and infinite tenderness, to hers.

  She gasped softly as he brushed his lips over hers. Once. Twice. His hands slid gently down the column of her neck, over her shoulders and down her arms. They encircled her,
pulling her body against his as he kissed her again, sealing his lips over hers and tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue.

  They opened to him with a soft moan, and his tongue swept inside to find hers, his body reacting to this kiss that he’d dreamed of for years and years—tasting her again, remembering the soft stroke of her tongue sliding against his, the way her breasts molded against the hard lines of his chest.

  He groaned, holding her tighter, wanting her to feel his arousal, to remember the way it had been between them once and could be again. She arched her back and pressed her body against his, their chemistry familiar, yet new, as undeniable as it was unrivaled; there was no woman on earth whom he wanted, had ever wanted, or would ever want, as much as she.

  “Mommy?”

  A sleepy voice interrupted them, and Hallie instantly pulled away from Ian, blinking at him in surprise as she reached up to touch her lips, her breasts heaving with every shallow breath she took.

  “I’m here, baby,” she said, still looking up at him.

  “So slee-py, Mom-my,” murmured Jenny.

  Ian looked at Jenny over Hallie’s shoulder to see that her eyes were closed.

  “I know, honey,” said Hallie, sitting on the bed beside her daughter. She brushed the hair from Jenny’s forehead tenderly, leaning forward to kiss her in the same place that Ian had. “I love you, baby.”

  “Love you…Mommy…”

  After kissing her once more, Hallie stood up and took a step back, staring at Ian.

  Should he stay? Did she want him to stay?

  “Ian…” she started.

  She didn’t. He could tell from the stilted way she said his name, and whatever she was going to say next, he probably didn’t want to hear it. He couldn’t bear hearing that the kiss they’d just shared was a mistake.

  “I’m gonna go,” he said quickly.

  She gulped, then nodded, wringing her hands together. “That’s probably best.”

  “Good night, Halcyon,” he said softly, turning quickly and leaving the room, and her home, before she could try to undo what had already been done between them.

  ***

  HALLIE: Britt, Jenny is so tired today, I don’t think we’ll make brunch. I’m so sorry and I hope you understand. Have the best honeymoon and post tons of pics on Facebook! See you in three weeks.