Ali grinned, anticipating, and rolled off the bed and away, laughing.
Laughing with her, Aidan caught her with one arm around her waist before she cleared the end of the bed by much. In one motion, he thrust up inside her, filling her, his mouth on her throat as she laughed and then moaned with pleasure.
Chapter Seven
It was a beautiful sunlit morning, with the light dancing on the water and Ali’s hair. Aidan sat with her curled into the crook of his arm on the Shannon ferry from Killimer to Tarbert. Listening to the sound of the ferries engines as they chugged across the estuary, Aidan thought the last few days had been some of the happiest he’d known in some time.
They’d stood on the Cliffs of Moher looking down at the thundering sea while it smashed against the cliff face far below. They’d wandered roads of Clare, the seacoast villages until they reached Killimer, where they had dinner by the ferry landing before finding a small bed and breakfast just up the road.
But now they entered The Kingdom, Kerry, his own old stomping grounds and he thought he might give Ali a chance to experience more than the tourist attractions there.
Looking down at her face as she looked out over the water, she still amazed him, and he was blessing the day he’d met her on that little road. He was going to be sorry when it was all over.
She was bright, there was that, and she was also right, she forgot nothing. You could debate her, but you’d best beware, in a battle of wits with sweet Ali, you’d best come armed. She challenged him in a way no other woman had. He was delighted when the light of battle came into her eyes. They’d talked about anything and everything, politics, history ― sometimes because of politics ― religion, the economy and technology.
Aidan hadn’t wanted to talk about anything related to that last, but somehow they’d drifted into technology―these days it was practically inevitable ― and he discovered she was as much a technophile as he was.
Then he remembered what had started the discussion ― he’d pointed out she could have gotten a GPS.
She’d smiled. “I love my gadgets. There wasn’t one in the phone as I got the simplest plan, but even so it would have taken all the fun out of it. All the challenge and adventure. And I wouldn’t have met you… Technology should bring people together, not drive them apart.”
That was true, there was something to be said for just being able to wander, to not just go straight from one place to another. So they spent the day wandering and would probably spend some of today doing the same as well.
She’d looked at him. “I know some gamers whose only relationships are with those at the other end of the Internet. They can’t touch, they can’t see them. What’s life without touching? Without feeling?”
Smiling, Aidan drew her closer, brushed a kiss across her hair.
That’s what he wanted to create, a world where you interacted, where a touch on the screen would let you could see the person on the other end of the line, both working together. Ali had gotten that, her face animated…
“The technology is there but no one is making it practical,” she’d said.
“Yes!” he’d responded. ”Forget Microsoft’s tabletop, did you see that display, the one that hung on a wall?”
Her gilded eyes had brightened with excitement.
“Exactly,” she’d said. “Only instead of just the data, the forms, put a camera there, and sound, so you’re facing the other person or people, both touching screens, manipulating the data, but adding expression, decreasing the misunderstandings that crop up because of a lack of it, of body language. Allow people to actually interact…”
For the first time in what seemed an age he’d felt that sense of excitement again like he had in the early days. It hadn’t yet faded.
Ahead was Corkaguiney, Dingle, the entryway to the Kingdom, to County Kerry.
He brushed his cheek across Ali’s hair.
She looked up at him and smiled.
Ali wasn’t certain which was the better view, the river Shannon or Aidan, the breeze teasing at the dark waves of his hair.
Just for the pleasure of it, he brushed his mouth across hers.
Settling his earpiece on his ear, Aidan said, “Kevin…” and listened to it dial.
Not wanting Ali’s phone haunted by his calls, he’d picked up one of his own and had his information transferred over to it.
Ali looked up at him in curiosity.
“Kevin,” he said, when the man himself answered.
On the other end of the phone, there was a moment of surprise. “Aidan? Aidan! Well, I’ll be damned. It’s been a time since we heard from you, now, how are you?”
“Has it been that long?” Aidan said, thinking back, then sighing in dismay.
It had. At least since Christmas.
Ali looked at him but he shook his head.
“It has,” Kevin confirmed. “Caireann has missed trying to fatten you up or finding you a nice girl to settle down with…”
Caireann, Kevin’s wife, had never approved of any of Aidan’s female companions, insisting that what Aidan needed was a nice country girl.
Looking at Ali, Aidan conceded that perhaps she was right, he was certainly happy with this one. There was, however, his business, his career, he needed a wife who could deal with that, as well. That was something he would think about another time.
“Well, as to that,” Aidan said. “Do you think Caireann would mind going out to the cottage and putting some food up, maybe freshening the place a little? I’ve a friend, too, from America, who’d like to see what it is to visit a local pub, hear some traditional music. You wouldn’t know anything like that?”
He smiled.
“Sure and I do, remember that pub back where we used to wander?” Kevin said, as Aidan had expected, knowing he played fiddle of a time and Caireann was a dancer. ”A friend you say?”
There was curiosity in Kevin’s voice.
Ali was making faces at a baby as Aidan had noticed she had the habit of doing and the child caroled happily, playing peekaboo with Ali’s hair.
Smiling, Aidan watched, Ali as delighted as the child. She was good with them.
The child’s mother looked on gratefully, her exasperation fading in the light of Ali’s warm smile.
“Her name is Ali,” Aidan said to Kevin. “And she’s an angel from America who rescued me stranded by the side of the road. I’d like to show her a bit of what Ireland is about.”
“Well now,” Kevin said, the curiosity practically vibrating through the phone, “I’m sure we can arrange something.”
“Thanks, Kevin.”
Ali had sat up during the course of the phone call, her eyes brightening.
“What do you say, pretty Ali?” he asked, as he hung up the phone.
She threw her arms around him and kissed him wildly.
Chapter Eight
No matter how much she tried not to be, Ali was nervous. These were Aidan’s friends, and while she’d only known him a few days ― and wouldn’t think of the rest ― she wanted to make a good impression. For the thousandth time, she slid her hands down her skirt, amused at herself. She’d made presentations before hundreds ― including a memorable disaster ― had met a number of influential people, but these were Aidan’s friends. She smoothed her hands down over her skirt.
Amused, Aidan caught her hand. “It’ll be fine, Ali,” he said. “They’ll love you.”
He’d yet to meet someone who didn’t. She had that way about her. She could charm the birds from the trees with that mix of innocence, impishness and endless curiosity. Babies went to her without question, lifting chubby arms to be dandled and fussed over. And she had, charming their mothers, entrancing everyone with those gilded eyes, her smile.
As she would Kevin and Caireann, coming even now down the sidewalk.
“Kevin,” Aidan said, with a grin.
Turning Ali could only smile.
Kevin was of average height, his face broad and unmistakably Irish, hi
s eyes hazel, his hair tinted with red. He had broad shoulders and a wonderfully warm smile, while Caireann had strawberry blonde hair and a dash of freckles in a pretty face. She stood a little taller than Ali herself and carried herself like a dancer.
His hand extended, Aidan pulled Kevin into a hug. “It’s been too long.”
“It has that,” Kevin said, giving him a punch in the arm.
“Caireann,” Aidan said, giving her a quick kiss, “this is Ali…”
Peering closely, Caireann said, “You have the most amazing eyes, Ali. Did you see them, Kevin? Aren’t they lovely?”
That blush tinged Ali’s cheeks again. It fascinated and amused Aidan that she did that.
“Thank you,” Ali said, embarrassed as usual. She heard it a lot so she certainly couldn’t fault Caireann for saying so.
“I did,” Kevin said, giving Ali an apologetic look, “It’s a pleasure, Ali.”
The look he traded with Caireann spoke volumes between the two of them. It was clear that Caireann approved.
Whatever Ali was to Aidan, she wasn’t one of his plastic women, the pretty mindless ones he’d taken up with of late. Especially that Devon who’d broken Aidan’s heart. Beautiful and heartless she’d been. This one, with her astonishing eyes was warm, friendly. It was clear to see she had a good heart.
“Welcome to Ireland,” Caireann said, giving Ali a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug.
“Thank you,” Ali said, oddly touched. She wasn’t used to that, much.
Sliding her hand through the crook of Ali’s arm, Caireann said, “Oh, isn’t she sweet? What in the world are you doing with Aidan?”
Ali laughed as the other woman gave her arm a tug in the direction of the pub, glancing back at Aidan with a smile.
His look was significant.
Ali shrugged, laughed, and said, quite honestly, “I have no idea.”
“Oh, I like her, Aidan,” Caireann said, “I do.”
The pub was exactly the one he remembered, a small local house, one of the few remaining these days that still kept to the old ways. You could still find places like this tucked away in corners, where the players came for the fun, not because they’d been hired to provide entertainment for the tourists. In the face of the Irish Miracle much of Ireland’s heritage had gone away as folk bought big screen TVs and stayed at home rather than going to the local pub. As a result many had gone under. Somehow this one had survived.
Even from the street they could hear the music playing, some of the old songs. Kevin had his fiddle with him. Oddly, Aidan felt his spirit lift a little.
Caireann noticed it first, as they were arm in arm, then she looked down at Ali’s feet, at the unconscious rhythm as she stepped in time to the music…as her own did.
“Do you dance then, Ali from America?” she asked, curiously, as they entered the pub.
A little startled, Ali just looked at her as Caireann gave a step or two. Watching her feet, the movements were familiar…
One of the musicians called out, “There you go, Caireann.”
Ali recognized the steps and matched them. Her eyes watched Caireann’s feet then she glanced up and smiled.
The other woman smiled in return.
“Well,” Aidan said, “I’ll be damned...”
He hadn’t known Ali could dance, it was becoming rare even here, sadly. No one danced much anymore, either, except in private clubs.
It was amazing, watching them, the two lovely women moving in time. Ali’s hair bounced and swung. Caireann, her pretty face alight, matching step as folk clapped.
Aidan had thought she had a dancer’s body, and perhaps unconsciously it was a step dancer he’d been thinking of. There was that straight back, the slender waist, the way she held her head, that unconscious grace.
Her face was alight with that almost childlike wonder of hers and then he realized that here it was childlike. It was likely she’d done these steps with her mother and here she was now rediscovering them again. His heart lightened for her.
Both the music and the steps were straight from Ali’s childhood. A rush of memories went through her, good ones. She rarely got to do them much, save for her own private collection of Riverdance videos and at Irish festivals.
Caireann was delighted. While Ali’s form wasn’t perfect, it was clear she’d been taught by someone who knew and not American style, although there was some of that mixed in there.
Kevin watched, his eyes on Aidan’s face, on the intensity in his old friend’s eyes, while Aidan wasn’t looking.
Laughing as the song ended, the two women came to join them, even the folk who’d been playing applauding the impromptu dance as Caireann stopped a moment to give the players a word.
Aidan had already signaled for a round of Guinness, and it stood on the table.
Watching Ali take a reverent sip, Kevin asked, “Are you sure you’re not Irish, Ali?”
Eyes sparkling, Ali said, “Half. What the other half is doesn’t matter then, does it?”
He laughed. “Oh, I like her, too, Aidan, she’s quick. You’d best watch out.”
“I am,” Aidan assured him.
“Where did you learn to dance, Ali?” Caireann asked.
“From my mother, the Irish half,” Ali said with a smile.
Seeing the slight flicker of sadness in her eyes, Aidan took her hand, sliding his fingers between hers.
Those molten gold eyes turned to look at him in gratitude, warmed. They’d lost none of their punch.
“Is that where the accent comes from then?” Caireann asked. “You’d almost seem to come from Ireland.”
Rolling her eyes and laughing, Ali said, “Among my many faults. No, I’m just a bit of a mockingbird ― I hear it and repeat it.”
“Where are you from in America?” Kevin asked.
Laughing Ali said, “You’ll never have heard of it, it’s a small town like this one ― truth is they’re about the same size ― called Millersburg, in the mountains of Pennsylvania.”
Caireann gave Kevin a look of satisfaction. So Ali was a small town girl.
“So,” Caireann asked, “what is it you do there, Ali?”
A dozen answers went through Ali’s mind but all of them were complicated. How much to say and how much not to say? How much detail? Aidan had never asked. Now didn’t seem the time to tell him who she’d been once…besides, that was the past and she was leaving it behind.
“Computers,” she said, wryly. It was always better to keep things simple.
“Ah,” Kevin said, “it seems you and Aidan have a great deal in common then.”
“Computers covers a lot of ground,” Aidan pointed out with a quick curious glance at Ali ― no wonder she’d known so much ― then he heard the music and caught Caireann’s grin.
Now he knew what Caireann had been about when she stopped to talk to the band.
Saved by the bell, he thought. In a way.
Even so shaking his head, Aidan said, warningly, as he fought back laughter. “No, Caireann.”
“Ali,” Caireann said, blithely, “do you know Ceili dancing? “
Choking back laughter at Aidan’s visible discomfort, Ali said, “I don’t honestly know.”
“Then Aidan can show you,” Caireann said, blithely as she drew Kevin out to the floor where they could move.
Her eyes sparkling, Ali resolutely did not look at Aidan.
She didn’t have to as Caireann waited impatiently, her arms crossed, tapping her toes, eyes sparkling.
Surrendering, Aidan offered his hand to Ali and she laughed, placing hers in his.
It was something like square dancing, and yet not, but there were memories. Even better though, was doing them with Aidan, with a great deal of laughter at missed steps, his and hers.
Everyone in the pub called out advice or came up to show Ali the step and remind Aidan.
He looked down at her, smiling, really smiling. Her heart lurched.
“You’re sadly out of practice old man
,” Kevin said.
Amid laughter and talk, they also drank a good bit of beer. It was a very good time with old friends. Ali and Caireann exchanged both physical and e-mail addresses.
Walking back to the car, Ali said, “How do you know Kevin and Caireann?”
His arm around her waist, Aidan said, “I went to school with Kevin, we were the best of friends.” On a chuckle, he added. “Oddly, it was Kevin who was expected to be the successful one, he’s a wizard with cars.”
The memory made him smile as he handed her into the car.
Sliding in on his own side, he said, “I should have taken the little MG to him except then I’d never have met you.”
Ali smiled, putting her feet up on the dash as always.
Reaching out, he closed a hand around her slender ankle for a moment, just to feel how small it was. He smiled before putting the car in gear.
“I stood at their wedding,” he said. “And as godfather to their children, with my sister as godmother.”
Sitting back, Ali said, “I like them. Caireann reminds me a little of my friend Cam, she has that same sensibility.”
“It’s like that between Kevin and I,” Aidan said, “a friendship you can keep going back to where you know it doesn’t matter how long it’s been.”
Ali nodded. “We’ve had some rough times, most of us, except Molly, and her family just doesn’t know what to make of her. Jesse, her mother came from money but the one thing she didn’t want was a child. Nor did she make any attempt to hide it. Cam’s father wanted a smart boy but got a smart girl.”
“I thought you were the smart one?” he asked.
“Ah, but we were all smart,” Ali said “That was the problem. So we became friends. And stayed friends, like you and Kevin.”
Aidan nodded, there was that comfort, he, Kevin and Caireann had fallen into the same old habits as if no time had passed.
“They liked you,” he said.
“I liked them,” she said. “How about you, Aidan, did you have a good time tonight?”
He brushed a hand over her hair and smiled. “I did. It’s been a long time since I’ve spent an evening with Kevin and Caireann.”
Irish Fling Page 7