Intractable Souls : Book 1 of the Bound for Ireland Series (8 page)

“I know! I’m sorry. He left and I started
feeling a little woozy so I went to bed. And then yesterday was
insanely busy.” She pauses a moment realizing that her excuses are
only making Rachel more annoyed. “So… It’s crazy, right? Me and
Noah?” She rubs her tummy, still not feeling that great.

“I thought that was a lost cause after all
these years? And what happened to your thigh that he had to bandage
it?”

“Well, that’s a long story. I fell out of my
chair at the soccer game and took a chunk out of it.”

“How the heck did you do that?” Rachel
starts to laugh. “Did anyone get video? Wait... I’m going to go and
check YouTube.”

“Dear God, I hope not!” Olivia panics and
starts to type YouTube into the search engine on her computer.

Rachel is growing impatient. “Will you give
me some details already? You look gorgeous! Where are you
going?”

She sighs. “I don’t know yet. I’m supposed
to pick somewhere. He said he would call me to let me know what
time he’s going to finish work. I was thinking Indian food. What do
you think?”

“I think it sounds wonderful. The only place
Scott takes me for dinner these days is the drive-thru window.”

“I’m getting a little antsy though. I
thought I would have heard from him by now. I don’t want to text
him and look like one of those needy girls.” She twists her nose as
she says it. If only he knew just how NEEDY she really is.

“Well, it’s almost 5pm so maybe you should.
As soon as you get home, I want all the details. And don’t make me
chase you! I’ve got to get home to my husband, apparently he missed
me.”

“Aw, that’s so cute.” Olivia powers off her
computer and picks up her purse.

“You’d think so, but my bet is that he
probably hasn’t eaten since I left or he’s out of clean underwear.”
Walking together to the parking lot, she gives her a quick hug
before they part ways. Olivia gets in her car but she just doesn’t
want to go home. Taking a long look at her phone, and confirming
that there are still no word from Noah, she types a message.

From Olivia: Hey, what time do you want to
meet for dinner?

She has a strange feeling that she’s being
brushed off, but she spends the next couple of minutes freshening
up her makeup anyways. She gets that feeling often with Noah. It’s
the reason she has always felt that she isn’t quite good enough for
him.

Assuming that he must be really busy or he’s
forgotten she decides to head home and wait. Pulling into the
driveway, she checks her phone one last time. Still nothing. Her
women’s intuition starts tingling like spidey sense and on a hunch,
she backs up and slowly rounds the corner onto the next street to
find his car parked in the laneway.

He must have forgotten. With a huge sense of
relief, she drives around to the front of the house and parks at
the curb. She can see him through the window moving back and forth
between the kitchen and the living room. Feeling rather silly
spying on him, she takes out her phone and texts him again.

From Olivia: Did you forget about me? Are
you ready for dinner? I’m starving!

She watches him walk over to the couch, pick
his phone up off the coffee table, and read the message. He types
something and then puts it back down. Her phone beeps and she
smiles as she opens his message.

From Noah: Sorry babe. Stuck at work. We’ll
have to do it another time

She looks at the message, puzzled, blinking
her eyes a few times making sure that they are focused properly and
that she hasn’t misread it. Why would he lie to her? She looks back
at the window and receives her answer. His arms stretch out in
front of him and a tall blonde steps into his embrace. She had
previously been hidden behind the curtain that’s obstructing part
of her view. Olivia’s heart is crushed, as she watches Noah claim
her lips in a very passionate kiss.

Trying to fight the bitter sting of
rejection, she walks up the pathway to her back door. The key
sticks in the lock and she struggles to get it open, wiggling it
back and forth, trying to coax the door and the lock to line up
properly. It only seems to stick at the most inconvenient times and
tonight she is tired, upset and in no mood to be challenged by a
stubborn door. Taking a breath, she pulls the knob towards her as
far as she can and gives the key one more twist. It’s stiff at
first but then it turns all the way and clicks. Finally!

Once inside she drops her stuff on the
floor, kicks off her shoes, and heads straight to her room. When
she takes her pajamas out of the dresser drawer and tosses them on
the bed, she catches her reflection in the mirrored cupboard doors
and stops to stare at herself in her dress. She pulls at the
material around the waist and smoothes it around her hips trying to
reduce the appearance of her curves as if that was the reason Noah
brushed her off. She sighs as she pulls the dress over her head and
discards it onto a laundry pile on the floor.

Changing into her favorite pink kitten
fleece pajama pants, she grabs a pillow and a blanket and heads
back downstairs. Throwing them on the couch, she prepares to sleep
there, as she does many nights, when she can’t bear to sleep in her
bedroom. Nightmares seldom find her downstairs so the couch has
become a warm, familiar place.

Tears stream down her face and she wipes at
them with the back of her hand as she stands at the stove, heating
up a can of soup. She wonders why she’s crying since she should
have known better, this isn’t the first time that Noah has brushed
her off for a pretty blonde. As she stirs the noodles in a
continuous circle, she realizes that she doesn’t really have an
appetite. Running her hand across her forehead, she’s concerned
that she feels a little feverish. That would explain why her
muscles ache and she feels very tired. Perhaps a quiet night on the
couch is what the universe had in mind. Turning off the stove, she
leaves the soup in the pot, no longer having the stomach for
it.

Curling up on the couch, she pulls the
blanket over herself, making sure that her feet stick out at the
bottom and wiggles her toes in the cool air. As far back as she can
remember she hasn’t been able to handle the restriction of tucked
in blankets. Exhausted, she surrenders to the fever and fades off
to sleep.

At the Headwaters Bar and Grill, Rachel,
Scott and Ethan have been seated for dinner. This is the only place
to go in town if you want a good meal and evening entertainment.
Tonight there is a live band during the dinner hour, followed by
the best DJ from the nearby city. The place is standing room only
on Friday and Saturday nights. This Friday night is no
exception.

“I love this place.” Ethan says, with his
mouth half full of food. “I should buy it.” Looking around the room
at its rich dark wood trim and country character, he gives it
serious consideration.

Scott laughs and Rachel looks at him with
serious interest. “Are you joking?”

“No, not at all.” He says as he swallows.
“It reminds me of home.”

Rachel is impressed and looks at Scott with
raised eyebrows. “Sweet.”

The DJ takes over, pumping up the bass, and
over the next couple of hours the room fills to capacity. Drinks
flow freely at the table and the alcohol has made Rachel very
talkative. Ethan’s obsession for Olivia consumes his thoughts. He
looks at his watch and thinks about her on a date with another man
and it makes his stomach twist in uncomfortable knots. When Scott
excuses himself and goes to the restroom, Ethan interrupts Rachel’s
rambling. “Tell me about Olivia.” He’s hoping that she’s much more
forthcoming with information than Scott is.

Rachel is delighted in Ethan’s interest. “My
poor, sweet friend, Olivia.” She begins. “She has had more than her
fair share of assholes. A string of bad relationships
actually.”

“Ah, well that explains a lot.” Ethan picks
up his glass and downs the last mouthful.

“She has barely left her house in three
years, except to work. She’s still a little… umm... skittish around
men.” Rachel starts feeling a little protective of her best friend.
“She deserves a good man.”

He reflects on her words a moment,
understanding that there is an unvoiced warning in there. “Yes, she
certainly does.”

Rachel has a strong feeling that Ethan is
exactly what Olivia needs. Against her husband’s wishes, she’ll
continue to try to steer them towards each other. She cautions him.
“If someone wanted to get close to her, they would have to take
things really slow and be patient. It would be like trying to catch
a frightened rabbit.”

He leans back in his chair and wipes his
mouth with a napkin. “So she isn’t a lesbian?”

Rachel chokes on her drink and almost sends
it shooting out her nose. “Oh my God! NO! Where did you get an idea
like that?”

“Scott.” He answers in a nonchalant
manner.

Rachel puts her hands over her face and
growls. “I’m going to kill him. Ethan, you need to know that
Olivia’s last boyfriend hurt her in more ways than just breaking
her heart. And... Well...Scott introduced them so he feels
responsible for what happened.”

Ethan rubs his hand over his whiskers. “What
exactly happened?” He wants to know. He needs to know. It will give
him a better idea on how to handle her.

Scott arrives back from the bathroom and
meets the icy stare of his wife. Concerned, he pulls out his chair
and sits down. “What did I miss?”

Rachel pounces on him. “You told Ethan that
Olivia was a lesbian?”

Scott panics. “Um well… what I said was that
it was entirely possible.”

Her temper explodes and a liquor-fueled
argument ensues. Ethan gets up and goes to the bar, safely out of
range. When he returns, Scott is gone. Ethan looks at Rachel
suspiciously. “Where’s Scott?”

“He left.” Her arms are crossed in front of
her in anger and she pushes the chair back from the table and gets
to her feet. “Order me another drink. I’m going to dance.”

The phone rings and startles Olivia out of a
sound sleep. Who the heck is calling this late? She tilts the phone
so she can see the display. It’s Rachel! It’s after midnight! There
is only one reason she would be calling.

“Hello?” Her voice sounds tired and
weary.

“Hi, Olivia. This is Ethan.“

Her eyes pop wide open at the sound of his
raspy Irish brogue. “I’m sorry to bother you so late but Rachel
asked me to call you.”

She can hear muffled music in the background
and her heart starts to beat quickly. “Is she ok?”

“Yes, sorry I didn’t mean to alarm you.
We’re at the Headwaters bar. She’s had a bit too much to
drink.”

“Where’s Scott?”

“They had a fight and he left. I’ve been
calling the house but he’s not answering. I was going to call a cab
but I can’t find my wallet. I hate to ask you to come out this
late, but could you pick us up and drive us home? If it was just me
I would walk but I’m sure Rachel wouldn’t make it.”

Olivia is already on her feet and putting on
her shoes. “I’ll be right there.” She rubs the sleep out of her
eyes, ignoring that they are still red and burning from crying. She
grabs an elastic, pulls her disheveled couch hair into a ponytail,
and throws a hoodie on over top her t-shirt, not bothering to
change out of her Pink Kitty pajama pants.

It’s only a few blocks to the bar from her
townhouse and when she gets there, they aren’t waiting outside.
She’s alarmed at the thought that she might still be drinking, so
she parks and heads in. She has never had another female friend
that could down the booze like Rachel. She can drink most of the
men she knows under the table. Olivia makes her way into the bar
searching for her friend, the music is so loud it hurts her ears
and makes her head pound. Finally, she finds her dancing up a storm
on the floor.

Continuing to scan the room, she finds Ethan
close by, dancing with a red head in an extremely short skirt. Her
eyes are stuck to him for a few moments. He has perfect rhythm and
dance moves that would set any woman’s panties on fire. Everything
else about him is absolute sexual perfection, why not this too? If
he moves like that in the bedroom it’s no wonder all the girls on
the dance floor are competing for his attention. Olivia starts to
feel a little warm as she watches him spreading himself around the
dance floor, attentively looking after all the women who join him.
Knew it, he’s not a one-woman kind of guy.

Rachel sees her across the room and squeals
as she stumbles towards her. In an act of chivalry, Ethan abandons
his harem and grabs for Rachel’s arm, supporting her while she
finds her footing. She looks at him as she offers an explanation in
a very drunken slur. “Something on the floor tripped me.”

He humors her, a small grin spreading across
his lips. “Yes, I saw that.”

Olivia shakes her head as they reach her and
Rachel throws her arms around her in a very forceful hug. “Thank
you for coming!” She screams in her ear so she can be heard over
the music. Olivia moves her head away reacting to the strong smell
of alcohol on her breath. “Whoa!” She tries to prop her upright so
she’s not leaning so heavily on her. “Have you got everything? I’m
taking you home now.”

Leaning forward, she shouts in her ear
again. “This is Ireland!” She waves her hand in his direction.

Olivia laughs and looks over at him.
“Ireland, huh? You know that’s going to stick, right?”

He smiles, his eyes reflecting the flashing
lights of the dance floor. She can call him anything she wants as
long as it’s his name she’s screaming when he’s buried deep inside
her and making her come repeatedly.

“No, no. that’s not right. This is Ethan.”
Rachel corrects herself, her legs wobbling. “He is IRISH!” He steps
in closer to help support her, chuckling out loud.