by Kris Bryant
“Tom, can I get a beer?” I stifle a shiver as Kerry is suddenly behind me, signaling for the bartender.
“Kerry.” The bachelorette whose name either escapes me or was never shared looks Kerry up and down and takes a step back from me. A slight frown bows down the corners of her mouth. These two women know one another and their relationship isn’t all rainbows and butterflies.
“Donna. I trust you are doing well,” Kerry says. She almost dismisses her, turning her attention back to Tom, signing her receipt. This looks juicy. I can actually feel the tension between them.
“Donna,” I say for no apparent reason. Both women look at me. I smile for no apparent reason. Christ, I’m drunk. “I couldn’t remember if you told me your name.”
“Yes. This is Donna Winslow. We’ve known each other since secondary school,” Kerry explains. She cocks her head to the side and blinks. Oh, man, this definitely is not a good relationship. I want to know more.
“Oh, so you went to the same school?” I ask. I feel like a director of a soap opera, my view bouncing back and forth between them as words are shared.
“Something like that,” Donna says. She casually looks down at her nails as if she is bored, but even drunk I can see Donna is slightly shaking with an underlying anger.
“We liked to date the same girls. In Donna’s case, at the same time, unbeknownst to me,” Kerry says, matter-of-factly. “Not once, but twice.” I can’t understand why Donna is the mad one here. Kerry is surprisingly calm. Definitely different than the Kerry I met eight days ago. The one who was full of fire and beautiful anger.
“That wasn’t very nice,” I say, turning my attention to Donna.
“Oh, I’m over it. Those girls weren’t worth it,” Kerry says. She’s holding her drinks, but not leaving.
“That wasn’t very nice,” I say, this time to Kerry.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sit with us?” This time I waiver. I don’t want to upset Kerry, regardless of how attractive I find Donna. Our new relationship is too important.
“Sure. I would love to.” Donna takes a step back, allowing me to slip off of my chair.
“Thanks for the drink.” I shrug at Donna, disappointed that I’m walking away from my possibly one and only opportunity to hook up. Kerry introduces me to her friends and slides a chair next to her. I sit down and am instantly alert when her body brushes mine. I feel my heart hammering in every soft part of me, the fast thumping swelling my body with need. I thought this would be easier. My body is betraying me. It’s the damn whiskey. I won’t last here much longer. By the seventh bachelorette, I turn to Kerry and tell her I don’t feel well and need some air. I quickly stand up and grab my coat and head for the door before she even has a chance to respond.
The cold air swirls around me, calming my heat and my heart. I slip my leather jacket on and head for the train station. If the trains aren’t running, I’ll just take a cab back to my aunt’s. I’m no longer drunk, but sufficiently tipsy. At least I’m upright and thinking straight.
“Where are you even going?” I hear behind me. I turn to find Kerry walking quickly toward me.
“I just need space. I don’t feel the greatest,” I say. I find that my body has refused to move and I wait for her to catch up to me.
“Well, you don’t need to be out alone,” she says, the reprimanding tone in her voice causes my anger to surface.
“I’m in the city on a popular street. Nothing’s going to happen to me.” I take a step back when she gets close to me.
“You are a tourist in a new city in a different country. You sound and look American. Too many people out here will try to take advantage of you,” she says. I smile slowly at her, thoughts of Irish women hanging on me fill my head. “What’s so funny?”
“Well, that doesn’t sound half bad. Tonight was going to be my night, you know,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
“I was going to kiss an Irish girl. That was the one thing I wanted to do and tonight was probably my only chance,” I say.
“You’re mad that I interrupted you and Donna? She’s a snake, Grace. She is not somebody you want to know personally,” Kerry says. She steps closer to me. I take a step back.
“You do not know me that well, Kerry. I’m leaving in a week, perhaps even sooner since most of my aunt’s affairs have been taken care of.”
“You should stay,” she says, taking another step closer, this time to make room for a couple walking by us. My back is up against the wall. I can feel the cold bricks through my jeans.
“Why? You barely tolerate me,” I say. It’s more of a mumble because I don’t really believe it.
“I thought we were friends now,” she says. Now she’s smiling. She knows I’m trapped. She takes a step closer. She’s in my personal space. Even with my boots on, I have to look up at her. I tilt my head back and gasp when she reaches down and curls her hands around the opening of either side of my jacket. She pulls me toward her, closing the gap. I don’t protest. Her lips capture mine in a searing kiss and I whimper with a mixture of delight, need, and submission. Kerry’s mouth is warm, wet, and her tongue soft against my lips. I open up to the kiss, suck her tongue into my mouth and kiss her back with a need that surprises me. By the time we break apart, we are both breathing heavily and clutching one another. I don’t think either one of us expected that. She takes a step back from me to steady herself. She releases the grip on my jacket and smoothes down the crumpled leather, not realizing that her fingers are brushing my breasts. I can’t help but shiver and she stops when she recognizes what she’s doing. “Umm. Let me take you home.” I raise my eyebrow at her. “Back to the shop. It will be safer.” Somehow, I don’t think so.
“No. Stay with your friends. I’ll just take a cab,” I say. I hope I come across as casual as I’m trying to be.
“Let’s go,” she says. “We aren’t far from my place. I’ll get my car and take you home.” I feel like sulking. I wish we could have just ended the night with that fantastic kiss. We don’t say much on our way back to the car. Kerry asks a few questions about my day and the places I visited, but I feel heavy with this new thing between us. There isn’t much inflection in her voice and I can tell she’s thinking about our kiss, too.
“Dublin Castle is nice, but you need to see a real castle. The kind you envisioned before you got here,” she says. I watch her lips while she talks, remembering them on mine just a few short minutes ago. The intensity of the desire to kiss her again surprises me. Kerry is everything I don’t want. She’s stubborn, extremely opinionated, yet also sexy, determined, and smart. I sneak a quick sideways glance at her. I can’t read anything on her face. I have no idea if that kiss meant anything to her. I turn my attention back in front of me, but it’s too late. I smash into the street light and bounce off of it, instantly applying pressure to my forehead. It sounds like Kerry is laughing, but it’s hard to hear over the bell ringing in my ears. Shit, that hurt. “This is why I’m taking you home.” She hooks her arm around my elbow and keeps me close. “We might never see you again if I don’t.” I don’t argue with her and keep my eyes forward. We walk for what feels like miles, but only is about five blocks.
“You know, I could have just walked back to Howth. It might have been faster,” I say, pointing in the other direction. Kerry’s laughter is low and raspy.
“We’re almost to my house. You don’t walk a lot of places back home, do you?” I don’t even have to answer that because she already knows. We stop in front of a house that looks like a brownstone. It’s sandwiched between two other houses with just enough space for a driveway. We head down the dark alley and instinctively I move closer to Kerry. She surprises me by putting her arm around my shoulders. She thinks I’m cold. I sigh at her warmth and snuggle against her. I love the smell of her. She smells like warm cinnamon and vanilla mixed with something spicy, like sandalwood. I lean in closer so that now we are walking like a couple. “Good news. There’s no traffic this ti
me of night to Howth, so we’ll get there in no time.” Most of the drive is in silence. Kerry flips on the radio so we are able to talk about music for about five minutes. I’m too tired to ask her what she’s thinking. I lean back in the seat and relax. “Grace. Grace, wake up. We’re here.” I feel soft fingertips on my cheek, stroking softly up and down. I snuggle down deeper and sigh. “Grace. You need to wake up. Doesn’t a warm bed sound much better than this cold car?” I crack open my eyes and look around. Kerry is leaning over me and smiling. For a split second, I almost reach up to touch her face, but I stop myself just in time.
“Okay.” I turn over and face the other way in the seat.
“No, no. Get up. Come on. I’ll help you up to the apartment. Abram misses you.”
I sit up, finally waking up. Abram? “Where am I?”
“We are at the shop. Come on. I’ll help you upstairs. Let’s make sure you have heat up there.” I slip my hand into her outstretched one and she gently, but firmly, pulls me up. I’m wobbly on my feet, so she holds me for a brief moment until I’m steady. I stop myself from slipping my arms into her coat and hugging her waist. By the time we reach the apartment, I’m balanced, but tired. That whiskey kicked my ass. Thankfully, I don’t talk a lot when I’ve been drinking or else I would have already made a fool of myself.
“Thanks for taking care of me tonight,” I say. She unlocks the door and opens it for me to enter. She follows me. I stop and turn toward her. She averts her gaze.
“I’m going to make sure the heat is on before I leave you and this little guy.” She reaches down to Abram who is desperate for attention. She breezes past me and disappears for a moment. I remove my jacket and throw it on the chair, but miss it by a mile. At least it’s in the same room. I kick my boots somewhere near the chair. “Okay, the heat is on so you should be fine for the night.” She heads for the door. I want to stop her, but I’m too confused so I watch her open the door and slip through. Before she closes it, she turns to me. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You were right. Thanks for taking care of me,” I say. She winks at me and softly shuts the door.
Chapter Eight
The sun is bright and I hear and feel the steady hum of Abram next to me on the couch. I crack open my eyes and blink several times before I start moving around. I never made it to the bed. I’m stuck between the functional, yet not comfortable couch cushions, and a pile of purring fur. The clock strikes eight. I can’t imagine Kerry is going to want to spend the day with me after last night. I was not planning on seeing her yesterday. I was not planning on kissing her. Actually, something in my brain tells me that she initiated it. I remember leaving the bar and I remember she followed me. I must have told her about my deal with Morgan because she kissed me. Oh, and it wasn’t just a tiny kiss. It was a throw your body into it kind of kiss with heat, passion, and tingles. It was a really good first kiss. I need to get up and shower because I’m sure I smell like whiskey and cat. My wardrobe is seriously lacking. I have the jeans I wore on the way over to Ireland and I can wear a button-down shirt. Today is supposed to be warm. I take a much needed shower and hurry up at the speed of hangover to get ready in an hour. I need food. And a nap. I already want to go back to bed. But the idea of spending a day with Kerry motivates me to keep moving.
“Are you awake and dressed?” I hear from the living room.
“What is that?” I say. I was going to tell her good morning, but she is carrying a helmet and I’m pretty sure she’s not wearing it to drive her car, even with me as a passenger.
“You need to have an open mind, Grace. This is the best way to see Ireland,” she says. “It’s a gorgeous day and I promise it won’t be disappointing.”
“Those things are dangerous! There is no way I’m getting on one.” I stop shaking my head because it’s only making my headache worse. “They aren’t safe, Kerry.”
“I haven’t crashed yet. Well, only once in my car,” she says, lifting her eyebrow at me. I take a moment to appreciate her outfit. She is wearing tight black pants, a form fitting cream sweater, and her leather jacket. Her hair is clipped back at the base of her neck, her creamy white skin exposed and perfect for kissing.
“I really don’t think I can do this.” I turn, but she reaches out and gently grabs my arm.
“Trust me, Grace. I won’t hurt you,” she says. “Let’s go grab breakfast, just down the street, and if you don’t like it, I will go get my car.” She sounds so sincere.
“Okay, but just down the street,” I say. She smiles that beautiful smile at me and I can’t help but smile back. She hands me my jacket after I slip into my boots and follows me out of the shop. “What kind of motorcycle is this?” Not that I’m going to know if it really is good because the only motorcycles I know back home are Harley-Davidsons.
“A BMW F650GS, a popular and very affordable bike in Ireland. All of Europe actually. She’s about ten years old, but still rides like a dream. Here, let me show you.” She swings her leg over the seat and points to the helmet I’m clutching. “Put that on and let’s go for a spin. Now, have you ever been on a motorcycle before?”
“I drove a little dirt bike for a summer when I was in middle school,” I say. She explains where everything is on the bike. Not much has changed from when I learned years ago.
“Okay, hop on. Make sure your helmet is tight,” she says. I feel stupid wearing it, but put it on anyway.
“How come I have to wear the full helmet, but you get the cool one?” I cinch the strap tight and flip down the plastic guard.
“Because I don’t want anything to happen to your pretty face,” she says. I smile. She said I was pretty.
“But nothing’s going to happen, right?” I ask. She nods behind her indicating I need to saddle up. She slides forward making room for me on the seat. I take a deep breath and get on. Every part of my body is up against Kerry. Maybe this won’t be so bad.
“Put your arms around my waist to hold on. When I lean, you lean,” she says.
“Why would we be leaning?”
“Just hold on,” she says. She starts up the bike, prompting me to hold her tighter. I clutch her side when the bike jolts forward into traffic. She reaches down and pulls my arm from around her waist and makes me link my hands together. My thighs are up against hers, spread wide. Thirty seconds on a motorcycle and I’m already turned on. I now understand this infatuation with bikes. I’m actually sad when, after a two minute ride, we are already at the café for breakfast. Kerry parks and taps my leg for me to get off. She leans forward so that I can slip off.
“That was fantastic!” I watch her remove her helmet and undo her hair clip. Her wavy hair, gorgeous and bright in the full sun, falls around her shoulders. Why do I always want to kiss her? A week ago, I didn’t even like her.
“I told you. And since the day is warming up nicely, it will be perfect for a nice ride though the country. Come on. Let’s get some food,” she says. I watch as she swings her long leg behind her, the black pants hugging her every curve. I hand her my helmet when she turns to me, and she secures it to the bike.
“I didn’t even feel the wind,” I say.
She laughs. “That’s because I was blocking it for you.” She holds the door open for me and I enter the already busy café.
“Kerry, over here.” A waitress waves to an empty table for two up against the back wall. I feel the warmth of Kerry’s fingers press against my lower back, guiding me to the back of the café. We sit down and order coffee. I’m nervous. I’m not good at pretending the kiss last night didn’t happen. I play with my coffee cup, twisting it in my hands, enjoying its heat. Kerry’s accent is more relaxed, but I find that she’s still easy to understand. I must be getting used to her voice.
“Since you aren’t that familiar with riding yet, we won’t go far today. I was thinking we should head up to Howth Castle and then to Wicklow. There is plenty to do in a day there and the drive won’t be so bad,” she says. She is very engaging and del
ightful with the waitress, not flirting, but just being nice. It’s refreshing. I realize just how superficial I am back in Dallas and how my friends and I easily dismiss people who aren’t in our social circle. I’ve been here in Ireland less than ten days, and I believe that this tiny country has already changed me. For several days, I haven’t cared about work or my accounts. I’ve only cared about the people I’ve met.
“Tell me what your favorite thing about Ireland is,” I say. She looks surprised at the question.
“I don’t know if I can narrow it down to just one favorite thing. This is my home. My family has been here for generations. Ireland is a beautiful place to live. I’m in the city, but surrounded by country. I have the best of both worlds. It’s not a big country, and certainly isn’t one to accept change quickly, but it’s my heart.” She’s so sincere and I believe this might be the answer that everybody gives me if I take the time to ask.
“From what I know and have seen since I’ve been here, I believe you,” I say. She smiles. I want to ask her about last night, but she doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to talk about it. I’m trying hard not to stare at her lips, or remember how they tasted and felt against mine, but it’s hard to pretend that kiss isn’t between us. And now that my body has been flush up against her, it’s hard not to want to know. I cave.
“So why didn’t you tell me about yourself after I shared my aunt’s letter with you?” I ask. It’s better than just blurting out the obvious question.
“I didn’t think it was important,” she says. Her indifference confuses me. Does she make it a habit to randomly kiss women? I know there’s a history with Donna and her answers last night were borderline rude, but I can’t imagine she can kiss somebody like that and not care a little bit. I decide to let it go. I can’t be that clingy after one kiss.
“What is it like being a lesbian in Ireland?” I ask. “Was it hard to come out to your family? Did they care?”