She Likes It Irish (23 page)

He shoved the phone into his pocket and held up the wall until the cold froze the alcohol warming him and seeped into his bones. Then he started the walk home, his foggy brain sloshing ideas around for getting her back.

Spring break, which was a few short days away, would give him time to get her to come to her senses like he’d come to his.

****

Kristin dropped the bag of cherries into her cart, not taking time to check her list. With spring break in full force, and nothing to distract her from thoughts of Sean, she lived on automatic. She had once bought cherries from this store, so she was buying them today.

Sean’s latest words replayed in her mind constantly. She had never heard such passionate, genuine-sounding words from any man who claimed to love her. Everything about him screamed his love for her. So why couldn’t she take that small step and open her heart to him again?

It came down to fear. She was afraid to care that deeply again. Afraid that if he hurt her again, she wouldn’t survive it. The flipside of knowing such great love was the possibility of knowing great pain.

“Excuse me, darlin’, can I reach around you to get some of those cherries?”

Kristin shook herself out of her daze and looked up at the man standing beside her who had spoken in a lovely Irish lilt. Her heart flipped onto its side when her eyes tangled with his dark blue ones and saw a quirky grin on the sweetest mouth she had ever tasted.

Her eyebrows came together in a scowl. “What are you doing here?”

His eyebrows lifted, giving his face the look of innocence he was probably going for. “Buying cherries.”

“Cherries? Really? That’s your story?”

“I like…cherries,” he said, his eyes settling on her mouth before drifting back to her eyes, his grin growing wider and more dazzling the more her face flushed.

“They’re all yours.” She turned her cart to move around him, but he stepped in front of it.

“I’ve seen you around, darlin’, but I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Sean.”

She knew what he was doing—trying to start over—but she had already face-planted on the bottom of that muddy pool once. But seeing his hand outstretched toward her, hearing his voice float through her like the melody of her favorite song, rooted her in place, making her unable to move away from the spell he was casting over her.

His eyes and smile compelled her to respond and, before she knew what her body was doing, her arm had extended and her hand had made the easy glide to his. His touch was as warm and comforting as she remembered, and it made her insides tremble. She forced herself to remember to breathe. She forced herself to remember her name.

“Kristin.”

“I see you like sushi.” He nodded to the package in her cart.

She glanced at the package then back to his face.

“I’ve never tried it meself,” he said, “but I’d like to. Any tips for a first-timer?”

Noticing he still held her hand in his grip, she pulled away and gripped the shopping cart handle with both hands.

“Don’t buy it from the grocery store.”

“Why are you buying it here then?”

“It’s easier than eating alone in a restaurant.”

The look of pity on his face pissed her off. “That better not be pity on your face, Sean O’Neill, because if it is—”

His eyes flew wide in mock surprise. “Pity? Naw. That was my ‘thinking’ face.”

At her silence, he continued. “Ask me what I was thinking.”

She shook her head, not wanting to play this game. But after a moment she asked, “What were you thinking?”

“So glad you asked. I was thinking we should go have sushi together. At your favorite restaurant. I could use a lesson in all things raw.”

The flow of energy filling her body during their casual conversation turned ice cold at his suggestion. “No.” She tried to steer the cart around him and escape, but he stood in her way, holding onto the cart.

“No expectations, no demands, just sharing a meal. We won’t discuss anything you don’t want to discuss. Hell, we don’t even have to talk if you don’t want.”

Paralyzed from her feet to her vocal chords, she could only stare at him, remembering how much he’d loved her and how much he’d hurt her. “No.”

“You don’t want me to poison myself by eating bad sushi, do you? Do you really want that on your conscience?”

She didn’t want him to be charming and cute. She didn’t want to respond to charming and cute. One hand rose to her mouth and she plucked at her lips to cover a little grin.

He picked up the cello-wrapped sushi from her cart. “Does that little smile you’re trying to hide mean I can put this back?”

She dropped her hand, letting her gaze dart to his before quickly settling on the plate of nastiness. “I can’t believe I was going to buy that.”

He laughed, and she almost joined him but swallowed the mirth at the last second. He convinced her to put back the few items in her cart so they could go to dinner that night.

“My bike’s over here,” he said and started walking toward it. “We can come back for your car.”

She didn’t walk with him. “No, I’ll meet you there. I need to go home and change.”

His gaze took in her flip flops, shorts, long-sleeved T-shirt, and ponytail. “Why? You look…perfect.”

Seeing the longing in his eyes, she turned away from it. “I’ll meet you there,” she said, wrapping her words in a tone that barred further argument. She told him the name of the place and he captured the location and directions on his phone.

****

As the hour of their dinner approached, doubts filled her thoughts.

I should have walked away when I first saw him in the store.

Why should I run away from someone I want so badly?

I should call him and cancel.

It’ll be great to be with him again…it’s been so long and he looked so damn good.

She sat on her bed in her bra and panties for a full fifteen minutes, arguing with herself and weighing her conflicting desires. When she finally left her apartment late, she still wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing. She just hoped she wouldn’t regret it too much.

Chapter Eighteen

Sean was already seated at a table when Kristin arrived at the restaurant nearly fifteen minutes late. He walked up front to meet her as she came in, a warm smile on his face.

“I thought you’d bailed on me.”

“I almost did.”

He put his hand on her lower back and escorted her to the table. “Glad you didn’t.” He held out her chair for her before taking his seat next to her. A waiter came to their table and handed her a single yellow daffodil.

“Sean asked us to bring this out when you arrived. Please take your time with the menu. I’ll be back in a moment to take your order.”

She turned to Sean. His eyes were shining so bright she had to look away.

She looked at the flower, then at him. “Why?”

“Renewal.”

Her mother’s early teachings floated back, reminding her that today—the spring equinox, Ostara—was seen as a prime time to get back things once lost. Is that what he had in mind? She dipped her nose into the cup of the flower and inhaled its spring-time fragrance. No flower better represented renewal than the daffodil, so he got that right. She wondered whether he had called his friend Ian’s mother, who was something of a witch, for advice.

“Are you hoping we’ll experience a renewal?”

He smiled. “I thought we agreed not to talk about us?”

She shook her head and grabbed the menu. She felt his eyes on her, but refused to look up and risk losing all control. First a smile, then she’d be romping in the backseat of her car with him.

“Do you know what you’d like to try?” she asked.

He held his arms wide, his hands toward her. “I’m completely at your mercy.”

“That’s a risky place to be.”

“I trust you, darlin’. Completely.”

Their flirty sparring and the bees buzzing in her stomach told her that she was the one in a risky place, not him.

Thankfully, the waiter showed up then. She ordered items that she liked and that she thought Sean might like. When the food arrived, he stared at the plate with a look that said he wasn’t sure he could take a bite out of the colorful and artfully arranged raw chunks. To his credit, he smiled.

“How do we…do…this?”

She picked up the long slender envelope at her plate and opened it, taking out the wooden chopsticks. He did the same. She placed the chopsticks, one then the other, in her hand, demonstrating how to hold them. She reached into the plate of food, picked up a piece of yellowtail, dipped it in the wasabi, and placed it on her plate. He tried to follow her lead, but the sticks wouldn’t cooperate.

“This is the hardest thing I’ve ever tried to do,” he admitted good naturedly as one stick clattered to his plate for the third time.

Chuckling, she got up and moved to stand behind him, placing the chopsticks in his hands. Standing this close to him, touching him and not kissing him, was the hardest thing
she’d
ever done. He smelled so good. His skin was so warm. When he turned his head toward her and stared at her lips, her knees went weak.

“Pay attention,” she teased. “There are no forks here, so if you want to eat, you gotta learn the sticks.”

“If you can use a fork to eat ice cream, surely I can use my fingers to eat this?”

“Sure you can…you and the two-year-old over there in the booth.”

Sean turned in time to see rice and bits of food spill from the toddler’s mouth onto her T-shirt. His hearty laugh warmed her pink parts.

Mr. Overachiever soon got the hang of the sticks and was able to pick up the food from the serving dish, move it to his plate, then back to the service dish without dropping it all over the table and into his lap.

“All this work has made me hungry. When do we get to eat?”

She explained what everything was.

“Which one do you like best?” he asked.

“The yellowtail.”

He inspected the plate again. “I don’t see any with tails.”

She pointed to the piece on her plate.

“Okay.” He picked up one like it from the serving plate, dipped it in a little wasabi like she’d showed him, and brought it to his mouth, pausing. “If you have to rush me to hospital, tell them I’m allergic to penicillin and oxycodone.”

She laughed and watched him intently as he put the whole piece in his mouth. Chewed tentatively, then with more enthusiasm. Swallowed.

“Well?” she asked, surprised at how eager she was for him to like it—to like something she liked.

“I like it. I didn’t expect to, but I do. What else?”

He tried the eel and squid next, which he liked. The tuna, not so much. The vegetable rolls and the fried tofu pouches were also winners, as was the tempura shrimp and California rolls she’d ordered in case he couldn’t stomach raw.

She was impressed at how eagerly he tried everything and did so with gusto. That was his way, she realized. Everything with gusto. It was one of the many things that had made her fall in love with him. A warm rush tingled across her skin at the knowledge.

After they finished everything on the platter, he suggested they order some sake or another pot of tea. She could tell he wanted to stay awhile, to talk, to subtly remind her how well they fit together. But she knew it was a mistake to get any closer to him, so she refused, saying she had a lot of work to do the following day. They split the bill—at her insistence.

“Don’t laugh, but I like sushi more than green chile cheeseburgers,” he said as he walked her to her car.

She blinked her eyes and opened her mouth in shock. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

They laughed.

“This was fun. Aren’t you glad you didn’t bail?”

“Yeah, I am.” And she meant it. “I haven’t had good sushi in a long time.”

“So it was just the sushi you enjoyed? Not the company?” His voice was low and she felt it drum in her heart.

“It wasn’t just the sushi.”

“Maybe we can do it again sometime.” His gaze caught hers and held, making her feel like she was standing on the crumbling edge of a deep abyss. A dervish of emotion spiraled in her heart, warning her to break the connection before she fell in.

“It’s late. I should go.” She turned, hand on her car door, but he caught her hand.

“It’s not even nine. Let’s go get some ice cream. Chocolate…” he tempted.

“Thank you, but no.” She tugged her hand, but he wouldn’t let go.

“Coffee?”

“No.” She pulled her hand away.

“Kristin,” he said. “Don’t go.”

She felt herself getting lost in his eyes and his voice again, captured by the feelings his one touch set loose in her, and she couldn’t force herself to break free.

His hand moved to her face, caressing her cheek. “Stay with me. Just a little longer. I miss you.”

Because she didn’t move away, because she didn’t resist and tell him no, he dipped his head and touched his lips to hers.

In that instant, the renewal he’d talked about burst into being inside her. Senses and feelings bloomed. Desire flooded her cells.

It felt so good with him, so right. But it was wrong. Without trust, it would always be wrong.

She shivered and pushed out of his arms, folding hers in front of her like a shield. “I can’t do this, Sean. I don’t have the courage to let you in again.”

He took her hand and put it on his chest where his heart lived.

“Do you feel that? It started beating again the moment I saw you in the store today and you spoke to me. I’ve felt dead inside since we’ve been apart.”

A spark of anger forced her to jerk her hand away. “When you threw me out of your life, you not only broke my heart, you broke all of me. I can’t give you what you want. I’m not whole.”

“Neither one of us is whole because we’re apart from each other. I love you, Kristin, and I know you love me. Take me back, and we’ll both begin to heal.”

Shaking her head, she moved away from him. “I don’t want to love you anymore. It hurts too much.”

He stopped her. “You don’t mean that.”

She closed her eyes. “Yes, I do.”

“Look, maybe we moved too fast the first time. But we can start over. Take it slow. Give you time to learn to trust me again.”