You, she gasped, running her nails up and down his back. Now you.
Rough, almost desperate, Liam pounded inside her wildly until he reached his own release with a final, panting shudder, and they were both complete.
Straight Up
Chapter Thirty-two
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Liam woke the next morning to find himself alone in Aislinn's bed with the mouthwatering scent of coffee, eggs, and sausages wafting up from the kitchen. He was disappointed she wasn't beside him for a morning cuddle, but he knew Aislinn: she'd probably gotten up at the crack of dawn to do some chores, even though the Fry brothers were filling in today because of Padraig's memorial.
Fingers twined behind his head, he lay on his back staring at the ceiling for a moment, reveling in memories of the night before. He'd known Aislinn would look sexy as hell in that nightie he'd bought her, and he was right. He'd also been right about why she'd held on to the gifts he'd given her: she still loved him.
Liam ran his hand along his jawline. He needed a shave. He glanced around the room. It was simple and unadorned, yet there were feminine touches here and there: the pitcher of dried lavender on her night table, the bottle of perfume he'd given her on the dresser, which made him grin. Hell yeah. He'd been right to listen to those who'd told him to romance her.
He sat up with a yawn. He wished to hell there was a bathrobe here he could borrow: he was going to have to wear his damn clothes from yesterday. He'd ask Aislinn if he could borrow her truck after breakfast to go into town.
Liam got dressed and came downstairs, momentarily jolted by the sight of the casket in the living room out of the corner of his eye before heading for the kitchen. Aislinn was at the stove, looking surprisingly preoccupied as she scrambled eggs. He could tell from the way she was dressed, in jeans and a big flannel shirt, that he'd been right: she'd already been out working.
He came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist. “Hey, you.”
“Good morning.” Her voice was quiet. “Did you sleep all right?”
“I slept great. You?”
“I did all right for myself.”
“I see you've already been out to visit the flock.”
“They're my job. I should be out there with Alec right now.”
“I thought they were Alec's job today.”
“Technically. But there was no harm going out, since I had the time.”
“Where's Nora?”
“Lying in with a headache. I hope she doesn't miss the service, though I wouldn't be surprised if she did.”
Liam released her with a grin, sitting down at the table. “Them sounds like fightin' words.”
“They never got on. It was a bit nerve-racking. But I still think it's only proper she pay her respects.” She frowned. “I'm worried now that Padraig's gone, she's going to make her move. She's been unnaturally interested in his cottage ever since she got here, and I know neither she nor His Lordship are happy in their jobs. I know it's coming: I can feel it in my bones. And you know what? I resent it. This is my home, Liam.” She frowned, looking guilty. “God, I feel a right bitch saying that, especially since we've had some lovely moments together. But sometimes her sense of entitlement when it comes to this place . .”
“Why are you thinking about this now?”
“Can't help it. My mind's flying off in a thousand different directions this morning.” She filled two plates with eggs, sausage, and toast, joining him at the table.
Liam speared a piece of sausage. “What's got your mind spinning, honey?”
“The farm. Padraig.” She paused. “Us.”
“What about us?” Liam took a sip of coffee. God, it was good. It had to be that organic, fresh-ground stuff Nora bought that Padraig had been crazy about.
You know. Aislinn mumbled.
“You know, for someone known for her hair-raising bluntness, you're being a little vague here. Spit it out.”
“Last night . . .” She looked ill at ease, not quite meeting his eye. “It was nice, but I hope you don't think it means we're back together.”
Liam just blinked.
“I wasn't thinking straight.”
Liam snorted. “You seemed to be thinking pretty straight to me.”
“Liam, please,” Aislinn begged. “Don't make this more difficult than it already it is.” She took a slow sip of coffee. “I was distraught over Padraig. I needed comfort. I -”
“So you used me.”
“No, no,” Aislinn said, looking distressed. “I would never do that.”
“Then what?”
“It just - it shouldn't have happened. It sent the wrong signal. And I'm sorry for that.”
“You want to know why it happened?” Liam countered forcefully. “Because you still love me, and you wanted to be with me. If you didn't, you would have returned my gifts by now. No one hangs on to lingerie given to her by a guy she doesn't give a damn about.”
Aislinn was silent.
“Don't deny it, Aislinn.”
“Fine,” she capitulated. “Of Course I still love you.”
“Then what's the problem?”
“I feel overwhelmed.” she confessed, looking on the verge of tears. “Padraig is gone, I've got to learn to work with Alec, Nora's still underfoot. I need to keep things simple, Liam, and you and I are anything but simple.”
I disagree.
Aislinn raised her eyebrows. “Oh, do you. Well, I suppose you're allowed your opinion.”
“It's not an opinion: it's fact.” Liam drained his coffee cup and stood. “Ball's in your court.”
Aislinn's face fell. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“You're angry.”
Liam laughed curtly. “Believe me, Aislinn, this is nowhere near angry for me. This is frustration. This is impatience. I love you, I want you, but Urn rapidly approaching the point where I'm starting to look pathetic, and I'm not willing to do that. You know where to find me if you start feeling less overwhelmed. I just hope it's sooner rather than later.”
With that, he walked out the door.
*****
That was really nice," Nora told Aislinn as they put the last of the food away following Padraig's memorial service. Aislinn was glad Nora showed up. It was the right thing to do.
The service had been simple, held outside Padraig's cottage. A few people had gotten up to speak: Old Jack; Alan Fry, Alec's father, who'd known Padraig since they were boys; Beth Daly, Teague's mother; and Grace Finnegan. Aislinn was thankful that Father Bill, who'd never quite forgiven Padraig for making an arse out of him in the roofing incident, kept his holy talk brief. Padraig had never been a great churchgoer, though he did believe in “the big fella in the sky.” It saddened Aislinn that Padraig had no family alive who could be there, but she found comfort in knowing that Padraig always knew he was considered part of her family and was dearly loved by his fellow villagers.
Liam was cool toward her, and Aislinn knew she deserved it. She was sending him mixed messages, and it was unfair, as well as selfish and cruel. Ball's in your court She vowed to get her head on straight as soon as possible.
After the service, everyone headed back to the house for coffee (Nora's gorgeous coffee - how the compliments flew) and sandwiches. There was enough food left over to feed the whole of Ballycraig, especially when you added in the collection of casseroles people had brought yesterday. But perhaps that was a good thing: it would be one less thing to worry about.
“So, you and Liam,” said Nora casually. “What's up?”
“Nothing.”
“I'm not an idiot. I know he spent the night.”
Aislinn felt her face go red. God, had she and Liam made noise? Had Nora heard? She'd die if that were the case.
“We were both a little drunk.”
Nora looked dubious. “You're saying it was just sex.”
“Yes.”
�
��The perfume, the clippers, his determination - none of it has made an impression on you at all.”
“I've got a lot on my plate right now, Nora. I really don't want to talk about this.”
Nora rolled her eyes, but she let it drop.
“I'm glad you came to the service,” said Aislinn, wiping down the kitchen table.
“Me, too,” said Nora. “Even though he's gone, it made me feel like I was letting bygones be bygones. Plus I couldn't stand the thought of everyone disliking me.”
“Since when did you ever care about that?” Aislinn asked, trying to keep the sharpness out of her voice.
“People change, Aislinn. I want to be liked, especially by the people we grew up around.”
“Right.” Aislinn put down the sponge in her hand. “Let's just get it out on the table, shall we?”
“Get what out on the table?”
Aislinn sighed wearily. “You know what. I'm not a stupid woman, Nora. I know you've got designs on the farm. You want to build a second home here, don't you?”
“Actually, I don't.”
"Oh, no? What, then? Spit it out
“ Nora sat down at the kitchen table. ”Only if you promise to give me a fair hearing."
“Fine. Right. Talk.”
“This farm has a lot of untapped potential, Aislinn.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean we could make a lot of money from it if you were willing to make a few changes.”
“Like what?”
“We could turn the house into a B and B.” Nora's eyes shone with enthusiasm. “Donald and I would run it. We'd finally get to be our own bosses. Meanwhile, guests would get to have a real rural experience - you know, spend time on a working farm, go into Ballycraig at night... We could even turn Padraig's cottage into a sauna.”
“Let me get this straight,” Aislinn said slowly, pure shock a slow-moving force through her body. “You want to turn my house into a bed-and-breakfast.”
“It's half -”
“Shut up, Nora. What's this 'working farm' rubbish you're spouting?”
“Guests could watch you and Deenie herd the sheep, and watch you shear them when it's time. Maybe they could even watch some lambs being born in the spring! We could even have hay rides and hold sheep dog trials here.”
Aislinn clenched her jaw so hard it began to hurt. She fought the urge to storm upstairs, toss all Nora's things in her bloody suitcases, and call her sister a cab. Instead, she simply stared her down.
“Who do you think you are, marching in here and thinking you can just take over?”
“I'm not trying to take over. Don't you see? It's something we could do together.”
Aislinn snorted derisively. “Right. You, me, and Donald, the three musketeers. One for all and all for one. Tell me: have you really been working on an article all this time, Nora? Or you have you just been here trying to get the lay of the land?”
“I've been working on my article,” Nora insisted defensively.
“What the hell for, if your master bloody plan is to try to turn this place into a B and B?”
“I want to keep my academic career going as a backup -”
“In case what?” Aislinn snapped. “The B and B doesn't work out? Where would that leave me?” Nora colored a little. “Actually, I hadn't thought about that.”
"No, of course you hadn't, because you're a selfish cow. How dare you think you can just turn my life upside down? Worse, where do you get the gall to think I'd go along with it? How dare you?'
“You're being shortsighted, Aislinn,” Nora insisted,
“This is my home!” ...Aislinn shouted. “You left ten years ago and never looked back! Now all of a sudden you're here because you see a business opportunity, you and that stuck-up husband of yours - who by the way, hardly seems the type to run a B and B. But let me guess: if things didn't work out, he has an out, too: he could just go back to his nice, cushy, financial job, couldn't he? Put his 'golden handcuffs' back on. How lovely for the two of you.”
Nora looked guilty as she glanced away.
“Ashamed, are you?” Aislinn challenged, coming to stand right in front of her. “You damn well should be.”
“Take some time to calm down and really think about this, Aislinn. This could be a very, very lucrative venture.”
“As if I give a tinker's damn about money!” Aislinn shook her head in disbelief. “You're unbelievable. Did you really think I'd go along with this? Do you not know me?”
“I just thought -”
You've no respect for me and the life I've built here,“ Aislinn cut in angrily. ”None at all."
“That's not true.”
“Go back to London, where you belong,” Aislinn said coldly.
“This house is half mine. I can stay as long as I like.”
"Fine. Then we'll draw a chalk line down the middle, and you stick to your side, and I'll stick to mine. I'll be giving you a bill tomorrow for your half of the household expenses. You can also find your own way into Moneygall the next time you want to make a run for gourmet groceries. My truck is off-limits - unless you're going to start giving me money for petrol and repairs. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do.
Straight Up
Chapter Thirty-three
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“All right, spit it out.”
Liam pretended he didn't hear Bettina as he stared out the back window of her and Jack's jalopy as the three of them returned to Ballycraig after Padraig's memorial service. Liam had been in a foul mood ever since he'd walked home from Aislinn's earlier that morning.
After their fight, he'd fought not to let disappointment and anger overtake him. He could understand Aislinn being overwhelmed: what he didn't get was why she thought their being together would contribute to it. Their getting back together should have made her feel the opposite. She was stalling, and he was losing patience. Liam meant what he'd said: he loved her, but he had no intention of being one of those pathetic guys who pined for a woman for eternity, one of those guys who, it turns out in the end, was wasting his time. The ball was in her court, and if she didn't hit it back to him soon, they were done. To add to his mood, by the time he got back into town, his damn feet were covered in blisters from having to walk in Jack's too-tight shoes.
Later that day when it was time to drive back to Aislinn's for the memorial service. Jack flashed him a “you sly devil” look when they'd gotten in the car. Liam sent Jack one quick, cutting look that he hoped conveyed he was in no mood to talk about the previous night. But Bettina wasn't going to let him keep her in the dark after she'd noticed how cool Liam and Aislinn were toward one another at the service. The minute they got in the car to drive home, Bettina started prodding him.
“I know God gave you ears, so don't pretend you don't hear me,” she said. Christ, she sounded like his mother's long-lost twin.
“And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, either,” she added.
Liam cracked the window, hoping fresh air would dissipate the overpowering scent of Bettina's lily of the valley perfume. He remembered Aislinn saying it made the car smell like a “funeral parlor on wheels” and held back a laugh. She was right.
“Things didn't work out with Aislinn the way I thought they would.”
“But you slept up there last night,” said Jack, unable to stay out of it.
“So?”
“Were you too drunk to do the deed?” Jack asked, catching Liam's eyes in the rearview mirror. “Is she mad that you couldn't, you know, perform?”
“I performed fine, thank you very much!”
“What then?” Bettina pushed.
“She says it shouldn't have happened. That she wasn't thinking straight because of grief”
Bettina clucked her tongue. “Poor thing. She's still frightened.”
“Well. I don't know how much more of it I can take, and I told her
so.”
Bettina looked shocked. “You didn't.”
“Good on ya, I say,” Jack countered proudly. “A man can only endure so much. It's good you laid down the law.” Bettina shot him a withering look, and he hunched in the driver's seat. “Relatively speaking, I mean.”
“Don't you worry: she'll come round,” Bettina assured him. “She loves you; it's clear as day. I bet it's just that she's feeling she's got too much on her plate right now, what with the old man gone and trying to get in a rhythm with Alec and that bloody Nora hanging around. Did you see the way that one was swanning around after the service, making sure everyone had enough to eat and drink? Like she was the hostess. I don't trust that one.”
“Neither does Aislinn,” said Liam. “She's convinced Nora wants to build a second house for her and her husband on the property. Or refurbish Padraig's cottage for themselves.”
Jack laughed loudly. “Over Aislinn's dead body.”
“Did their parents not leave the farm entirely to Aislinn?” Bettina asked, sounding mystified. “It's been her home her whole life - and God knows the Queen of Sheba never cared about the place.”
“I'm sure her parents thought leaving it to both of them was the right thing to do,” said Liam. “Cutting Nora out would have been cruel.”
“I'm sure that's what they thought, too,” Jack concurred. “I mean, she might have legged it out of here faster than a hare being chased by a hound, but she was still their child.”
“True,” said Bettina. She took some lily of the valley out of her purse and spritzed her wattled neck. Liam fought a gag as he cracked his window wider.
“Did you give Aislinn a deadline?” Jack asked.
“Are you kidding me?” Liam snorted. “Give Aislinn an ultimatum? She would have told me to take the express train to hell!”
Bettina laughed. “True.”
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