This wasn’t American oatmeal out of a package, it was thick hearty Irish oatmeal, the taste and texture were different. She could almost hear her mother, see her shaking her head.
“It’s worth it, Ali, my sweet, to pay a little extra to get decent oatmeal to start the day off right,” she’d said. “None of this packaged stuff.”
They hadn’t been rich by any means, living just on her mother’s income and if Ali had known what it was her mother did she no longer remembered…worked in a factory or something.
“Is it all right?” Mrs. Monaghan asked, concerned as she saw Ali go still.
Aidan saw it, too, and touched her hand, concerned at the sudden brightness of her eyes, the sadness in them.
“Sorry,” Ali said, and took a breath. “It’s nothing, it’s wonderful, Mrs. Monaghan…”
“Moira…,” the woman said, kindly.
“It reminded me of my mother. She used to make oatmeal like this for me when I was a little girl,” she said.
“Ah,” Moira Monaghan said, kindly and sadly. “She’s gone then?”
“Yes,” Ali said, and took a breath. “I haven’t had Irish oatmeal since and I could never seem to make it the way she did.”
A voice from the other room called, “What’s the date of the Battle of Hastings?”
Moira shook her head as her son Colin came in the room.
“Homework,” Moira explained. “We’ve plans in the evening so he’s getting it done now. I don’t know, Colin. You’ll have to look it up.”
“The fourteenth of October 1066,” Ali said.
Looking at her in surprise, the boy said, “You’re American, you can’t know that. Are you sure?”
She grinned, “I’m positive. William of Normandy against the King Harold. You can look it up, as your mother said, if you’d like.”
He made a face.
“So,” Moira asked, “did you study history then?”
Ali shook her head, a little embarrassed. “I have what’s called an eidetic memory. Almost anything I read I retain, I read a lot and I read very fast.” Looking at Colin, she said, “I can also read upside down and backward.”
That talent had been helpful when remembering massive lines of computer code.
His expression challenging, doubtful, flipping his school book open so that it was upside down to her, Colin said, “Prove it.”
Intrigued, Aidan leaned an elbow on the table to watch.
Ali gave him a glance, looked at Colin and read it back to him flawlessly.
The boy’s mouth just dropped open. She grinned.
Curious, Aidan said, “And the Battle of the Boyne was fought when?”
Her eyes went to his, a little warily, but he seemed genuinely curious, not put off.
Smiling, she said, “July 1st, 1690.”
“So, where are you off to then today?” Moira asked.
Aidan gave the woman a look, anticipating her reaction. “County Clare. Ali wants to see the Burren.”
In astonishment, Moira said, “That’s a long drive.”
With a smile, Ali said, “Not where I come from.”
Later as he turned them west, Aidan commented, “That’s an interesting talent, your memory.”
She grinned. “I was always been popular at homework time.”
Kicking her shoes off, she propped her feet up on the dashboard, a position that should have been uncomfortable but clearly wasn’t. She had very pretty feet, small, with little neatly formed toes.
“Especially with Jesse,” she said. “She hated to study.”
“And who is Jesse?” he asked.
“One of my closest friends,” she said, smiling, “I didn’t have sisters of my own, but Jesse, Cam and Molly are as close as.” With a laugh she said, “Jesse is the wild one. She rides motorcycles. Cam was the sensible, studious one. Molly was our drama queen.”
“And you were the pretty one?”
Once again there was that charming blush.
Ali remembered the awkward girl she’d been, with the untamed bush of curly hair in hand-me-down clothes, the inadvertent teacher’s pet. The girl she’d been until her first real year in college, before MIT and then Jensen. Times had changed but it still surprised her when someone said things like that.
Shifting around a little so she could look at both Aidan and the scenery passing by, she shook her head and said, wryly, “No, I was the smart one. What about you, your family?”
“Ah now,” he said, with a smile, “I’m the eldest, and I think I was both the smart one and the wild one. My mother often says the rest were easy after me. Conor’s the handsome one…”
“I find that difficult to believe,” Ali said, looking at his profile, combing her fingers through the thick wavy hair at the back of his neck.
He liked her hands in his hair and he certainly couldn’t fault the compliment.
“I’m glad you think so,” he said, “but you might be prejudiced on that count.”
“There’s that,” she agreed, grinning.
“Liam is the practical one,” he said, “sometimes to a fault. He won’t make a decision without thinking it over for weeks or months. Conor’s always bringing a new girl home, to the despair of my mother. She wants him married and settled like Liam and Rosaleen. Rosaleen married her high school sweetheart and they have two children already. Liam has one―he had to be sure he could afford one first.”
Ali laughed at the amusement in his voice.
“Etain is at University. She wants to be a career woman, as soon as she figures out what that career is, it changes of a moment and at a whim….”
Remembering, Aidan said, “Now Conor, he was always following me about and we got in a few scrapes…”
They traded stories of childhood adventures as Aidan took them on a variety of back roads through the center of the country. By luck they had a good day, with the sun shining brightly, if crisp and cool to Ali.
She’d left her hair unconfined and the wind played merry hell with it but Aidan enjoyed watching the sun sparkle in it or when he could, touching it. When he wasn’t touching her, she was touching him. It was marvelous and sweet.
They passed through Kinvarra then jogged down along the rugged northwest coast of Clare.
It had been a time since Aidan had been here, perhaps the last time when he’d been in his teens. He’d forgotten the stark beauty of the limestone pavements, the green grass spearing up between and he didn’t remember the sudden surprise of the flowers. Had he ever seen it in spring? It was gorgeous.
Ali was breathless, it was simply amazing. She also loved the little towns they passed along the way, with the neat buildings, some painted lovely colors…
The names on the directions signs were entrancing, Ballyvaughn and Lisdoonvarna, Doolin and Kilkee.
“How do you feel about a picnic?” Ali asked.
They found a place to pick up some sandwiches and some drinks.
There were dozens of places to see, megalithic dolmens, wedge burrows, ancient stone forts.
What was wanted, though, was a little privacy, a chance for just the two of them together.
Aidan found it, a place to park not far from the sea but where they could walk along the rocky coastline holding hands while the breeze played with Ali’s hair. The sun caught sparks of gold and red from each dancing strand. It was the most relaxed Aidan could remember being in years, he felt no need to speak, comfortable in her company. They had laughed and talked the whole way there and would again as they continued.
It was fine, really fine.
He stopped for a moment to draw Ali against him, his back against a rock, just to look out on the sea, to listen to it and the wind.
It had been a time since he’d just taken a moment like this, to just soak it up.
“Who are you, Ali Dearborn?” he asked.
With a sigh, Ali laid her head against his shoulder, sliding her hands beneath his sweater just to feel him, to feel his skin.
Absent
ly, she caressed him, soothed by the sound of the water, the quiet, the warm feel of the sun on her skin and the cool brisk breeze.
“I am this,” she said, “what you see.”
“What’s wrong with American men that one of them haven’t snatched you up?”
She shook her head, thinking about Dan. Molly looking at her, broken up about being the one to give her the news.
“I just don’t have much luck with that sort of thing,” she said.
Aidan shook his head. “I can’t believe that.”
She looked at him, a quick glance.
“You think? Some I think I scare off but the last man I dated announced his engagement to someone else…,” to someone more…appropriate…to a college professor, “while we were still dating.”
The hurt was still there, making her heart ache. Dan had been shopping around while she’d been on the road.
For a moment, Aidan could only stare at her in disbelief.
The look on his face made her laugh.
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” she said, doing exactly that, looking abashed.
Aidan shook his head.
“I know, I know,” she said, “I’m too trusting.” Her eyes sparkled. “It’s my only flaw.”
He laughed. “The only one…”
“Well, maybe not,” she said, wryly, “I can be a little impulsive…”
Shaking his head, brushing a kiss over her hair, Aidan said, amused, “I hadn’t noticed.”
Now she gave him a look, an eyebrow lifting, but her eyes twinkled.
“What about you?” she asked, tossing her hair back over her shoulders to look up at him. “Turnabout is fair play.”
“You almost make me feel better,” he said, as she rolled her eyes, “mostly I’ve been too busy, but the last…at least I was traded off for someone with more money…”
“Ouch,” she said, laughing up at him. “I was also dumped because I was too smart and once because I was too spontaneous.”
“Too smart?”
Ali just shrugged.
“Just so you know,” he said, “I like smart women.”
She laughed.
And he loved her spontaneity, that easy laughter…
“That’s a good thing,” Ali said. “So, what about you, Aidan? Who are you?”
Letting out a breath, he said, “I used to know. Now, I’m not so sure.”
Ali tipped her head back to look at him, her expression gently curious.
Tilting his head, Aidan said, “Faults? Hmmm… I’ll have to think about that…”
She laughed again.
His cheek against her hair, Aidan closed his eyes to absorb the peace, to relish the feel of her warm hands on his skin. It felt lovely. He’d never known anyone who liked to touch so much.
“Impatience,” he said, finally.
Aidan thought of all the nights he had spent at the office or taking work home. How many of the women in his life had complained about that.
“Time management,” he added.
“You don’t need to make a list,” Ali said, “or do we need to add perfectionism?”
He chuckled. “Maybe we do.”
She grinned. “And competitiveness.”
Watching the sun sparkling on the water, Ali turned toward him and curled one arm around his back, the other around his waist, enjoying the solid feel of him. Running her hand up beneath the sweater she caressed his chest, skimmed over the muscles there, traced the curve of his ribs, finding the shape of him with her hands.
It was an incredibly sensual experience, Ali’s hands moved on him as if she memorized him with her hands.
Sighing, she looked up at him.
Aidan looked down into her pretty face, cupped her cheek and lifted her chin for a kiss.
He sank into it, tasting her, feeling her hand flatten against his chest, her other arm tighten around him as his did around her. Drawing her closer, higher, he pressed her body against his, enjoying the way she melted against him.
Without speaking, they continued down the shore, to find a cranny between a tumble of rocks out of sight of folks passing that was sheltered from the wind where the sun warmed the stone and the scrap of sand. He shook out the blanket they’d picked up along the way for their picnic.
They ate the picnic they’d brought, looking out over the ocean, watching the birds, wrapped in the blanket.
In the back of his mind, Aidan gave serious consideration to calling the office and taking some more much needed time off. It wasn’t even as if he did it often, Brian had taken more holidays than he had. Even on regular holidays, Aidan had spent most of them at work, catching up on all the things that seemed to get put off.
“Ready?” he asked.
Ali nodded.
They walked hand in hand back to the car.
“This is beautiful,” Ali said, looking along the coastline.
“If you think this is pretty, wait until you see Kerry,” Aidan said. “We’ll take it slow.”
Something in Ali jumped a little. “We won’t even be close to Kerry for a day or two. Don’t you have to work?”
“Are you firing me, lovely Ali?” he asked, lifting her fingers to his lips, his blue eyes questioning.
“Good Heavens, no,” she said, a burst of warmth going through her.
“Then I was thinking of taking a few more days off,” he said, “It’s not as if they’re not due me.”
Watching her eyes brighten, he smiled and pulled her closer.
They wandered the Burren, visited the Dolmens and tombs, the ruins of Cormcomroe Abbey and Caherconnell stone fort, hand in hand. It was just the thing for both of them.
Chapter Six
Not surprisingly, Ali’s phone rang first thing in the morning. They’d found a pub that offered both food and rooms. They’d had a wonderful dinner the evening before and looked to have a wonderful breakfast.
He reached over Ali to look at the display. Brian. What part of his message had Brian not understood?
Curled around Ali, fighting irritation, he stretched out on his side, propped his head up with one hand and answered.
“Brian,” he said, as Ali rolled onto her back to look up at him.
He smiled, it was a lovely view to be honest and eased a great deal of his irritation.
Cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder, he idly played with her breasts. She smiled.
“Aidan,” Brian said, without preamble, “what do you mean you’re taking a few days off?”
While they were partners, he and Brian had never been friends. Aidan had been the idea man, Brian the money man and it had worked well, generally. It had been the days of what would had been known as the Celtic Tiger or the Irish Economic Miracle. Aidan had been lucky enough to catch the wave, starting with an idea for internet and cell phone software that would work with both Europe and the U.S. that he’d developed while still at university.
Even with government aid and assistance, he’d needed a partner, someone to handle the money end of it while he handled the business and development end. For that, he’d needed Brian Murphy, who by all reports was a good money man. Tall, lanky, not terribly prepossessing, Brian had been wary but when Aidan had offered him a salary far higher than he’d have been getting elsewhere, Brian had signed on board.
Aidan had hoped to warm to the man but never had. It was all about the numbers for Brian and Aidan wasn’t about the numbers. He wanted to ride the wave, he wanted to innovate, there was so much new stuff going on, so much brilliant stuff. New hardware, new software, it was all amazing. The world was moving more toward Internet based services, less on local, Aidan had ideas. Ideas Brian stifled at every opportunity. He wanted the safe, the sure.
They had a board of directors, required for that aid. Brian had been persuasive when it came to warning them away from the innovative, the unsafe and unsure. Aidan thought he’d go mad with it all.
It was more than frustrating, which was why Aidan had been carefully posi
tioning Kerry Software for sale. Brian opposed that as well but the Board was more sympathetic and it would definitely please the other investors.
More than anything else, Aidan wanted to be free. His share of the money from the sale of the company would give him the flexibility and freedom to do as he pleased, not that he didn’t have enough for himself now. He could survive quite well for the rest of his life on his investments. It just wasn’t enough to start over, not these days, and not to do what he wanted.
Ali watched the tension creep into his shoulders, his eyes, and saw the man she’d first met on the side of the road, all coiled frustration.
Looking down, Aidan saw Ali frown, the worry in her eyes.
Carefully, Aidan leaned down and kissed her brow, shaking his head as he drew her into his lap and put his end of the call on mute. “It’s fine, Brian. As our friends from Oz say, no worries.”
Still grinning, Aidan listened to Brian natter in one ear and played with Ali. That definitely made listening to Brian easier.
“I’m just taking a few days off,” Aidan added. He lowered his head to swirl his tongue around Ali’s nipple. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“What are a few days?” Brian demanded.
Patiently, Aidan said, “A week, give or take. But,” nibbling, “I might take more.”
Especially if Brian kept nagging at him.
Ali trembled at his touch, but she couldn’t help the burst of excitement at his words. It was nearly as thrilling as his mouth on her. A whole week, maybe more. Then his finger slipped inside her and a small cry escaped her.
Smothering laughter, Aidan clapped a hand over her mouth. To which she responded by sucking on his thumb.
He fought off a groan as Brian asked him, “What was that?”
Clearing his throat, Aidan said, “Cat.”
Ali snorted lightly, his hand still over her mouth.
“Where are you?” Brian demanded.
“It’s no business of yours, Brian,” he said, then bit back an moan as Ali slid out of his lap and found something else to do with her mouth.
He grabbed a handful of her hair, pulled her head up. Those gilded eyes sparkled.
“Brian, I have to go,” he said, turned the headset off, tossed it across the room and pounced on her.
Irish Fling Page 6