Wild Irish Envy (Copperline #2) (28 page)

BOOK: Wild Irish Envy (Copperline #2)
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“You were good with that young fella today,” I offered as we sat across from each other in the little café a short time later.

“Poor little guy.” Fliss shook her head slightly. “He’s had it kind of rough. I just want him to be able to be a kid for a little while.”

“He might be able to, thanks to you.”

“You want to hear something really dumb?”

I gave her a skeptical look. “From you? You’re the smartest person I know. Like you’d ever say anything remotely stupid.”

She toyed with her pasty as she thoughtfully twisted her lips.

“It’s just that I should have known. I did know. It just didn’t
really
hit me until I was working in it just how heartbreaking this is, the foster care system.” She shook her head and looked back up at me, and I could see the faint sheen of unshed tears. “I thought I was tough enough to handle it.”

“You’re a lot stronger than you think you are, even more so because you’re actually doing this. You’re out helping people that society likes to forget exist.”

She smiled at me dismally.

“That’s something to be really proud of,” I reassured her.

“Thank you,” she exhaled shakily. “I think I needed that reminder. I’m just glad Mrs. O’Leary offered to take these two in. Austin is terrified of letting an adult have control, and sadly there are foster parents exactly like what he described.”

“He’s right lucky to have someone like you on his team.”

She smiled warmly, giving a little shrug that made her seem slightly uncomfortable with the praise. “I’m just doing my job.” She glanced around the small restaurant with its funky little Butte vibe before looking back at me. “So,” she began with a grin of false bravado, clearly wanting to change the subject, “why the surprise visit?”

“Had to come to town for supplies,” I answered. “One of those birds in the garden club wants me to do some kind of sculpture that she can make water run over for her back deck, and I’m all out of flux. Thought I’d stop and see my wife, maybe take her out to lunch.”

Fliss’ smile faltered as she looked up at me with sort of that same expression Austin had cast on her. Wary. Wanting to trust, just unsure if she should.

“Thank you,” she finally murmured with a slightly melancholy smile. “Even if it’s just for appearances… it’s kind of sweet.”

“Jaysus,” I chuckled, trying to make light of her words, even though they caused a sharp, stabbing sensation in my chest. Because it wasn’t just for appearances. Not to me. “Don’t tell anyone that. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Right,” she mused, a twist of her lips that almost reflected in her sad, blue eyes. “Denny the wanker. Wouldn’t want to lose that tag, now, would we?”

The act continued in public, day after day and week after week. I offered many times to do a parts run for Brannon's garage so Fliss and I could meet off and on for lunch. We would find quiet little cafés where we'd sit across from each other, quietly joking about how married couples would do things like that and how it would look good for immigration. We would laugh it off in an attempt to belie the real emotion behind it. The truth of it was, I looked forward to every opportunity I got to spend with her.

We held hands as we walked into a crowded room, be it a bar or a party. She curled into my arms every chance she could when others were around. The constant touch of her body pressed up against mine, the consistent scent of her swirling around me, and the sweet and gentle tone of her voice filling my ears was starting to take a toll on my sanity.

There were times when it all just felt so bleedin' real.

For the most part, the people we generally hung out with seemed to take it all in stride. Sophie was thrilled to have another girl in the group, especially since Drew’s girlfriend Maggie wasn’t exactly the warm fuzzy type. Maggie almost seemed to look at other girls as competition, and she really didn’t care for the fact that Fliss lived with us. Quite honestly, I had always kinda thought Maggie was a bitch. I wasn’t the one shaggin’ her, though, so it wasn’t really my place to say anything.

As Fliss and Sophie became closer, Brannon seemed to relax a little around Fliss as well. His initial response to seeing her was curious. I sorta figured it had something to do with my drunken confession about wanting her to the point where I couldn’t be around my friends. He was, after all, the one I always dragged off to go chasing tail when things got to be too much.

While most everyone, Sophie included, seemed to buy into the whole wedded bliss act we had going on, Brannon appeared somewhat skeptical. He watched closely, and I felt like I had to touch her a little bit more, pull her up against me a little more often. Yet he didn’t totally seem to buy in. Being the awesome friend he always had been, though, he didn’t out-and-out question any of it, giving me the impression that he was willing to go along with it, no questions asked.

Fliss and I were watchful and wary around others, careful to keep up the appearance. Sometimes it was all too easy, like when the band would play on Friday and Saturday nights and she would come to watch. She was easy to find in the crowd with the color of her hair, and she made a good show of being enthralled with each and every performance we did. She fit so well up against my side during breaks when us guys would come offstage to have a drink. She always had something icy cold waiting there for me as she sat with Sophie and Lily, Sophie’s boss and also kind of a regular around the band.

Ordinarily the girls had Brannon close-by, but one night I looked out into the crowd to see some dickhead talking to them. Fliss was arching away as he leaned closer, and I hushed the rest of the band for a minute before I spoke into the mic.

“Hey, ya feckin’ bastard,” I said, and the entire bar, the tosser included, looked up at the stage. Everyone went quiet as I pointed at him.

“What, me?” he asked, puffing out his chest.

“Right, you,” I nodded. “The lady isn’t interested.”

“How the hell do you know?”

Jaysus, where the hell was Brannon?
This lad had to go.

“Because she’s my
wife
.” Just then I saw my buddy heading back across the bar to the table. “And the little blonde bird sittin’ there beside her, well her man is about to kick your bleedin’ arse if ya don’t back off right quick.”

Brannon was a big fella, and it only took one look for the sod to lose his balls and slink away from the girls.

And that’s how I shared the news of my marriage with the patrons of the Copperline Bar.

It wasn’t until later in the evening that I realized how that little scene had seemed to Fliss. She had been quiet on the way back to Ophir, which really wasn’t all that uncommon. There was a tremendous strain on both of us to keep up the charade in public and around friends, so we sort of had an understanding that we could go off into our own heads if it was just the two of us alone.

So, I didn’t really think there was anything wrong. It hadn’t even occurred to me.

But as we lay down in my big bed, as far apart as we could possibly get, she said something that sort of shook me up a little bit.

“I wasn’t going to do anything with him, Denny,” she whispered.

I was lying on my back, but with her words I turned to look over at her. She was facing away from me, but I could see her fairly well in the moonlight that shone through the window.

“With who?”

“That guy… tonight at the bar,” she said. “I know you don’t really have the highest opinion of me, and quite frankly I don’t blame you. You’ve seen me at my worst. But until this is over, you don’t have to worry about me with other guys.”

“Fliss, I never thought you would. It looked like he was bothering you, so I got him to back off. That’s all.”

“Also,” she continued as if I hadn’t even spoken, “I know it’s not really realistic to expect fidelity from you since this isn’t really about that, but if you do want to hook up with someone, I’d appreciate it if you kept it on the down-low. You know, to keep up appearances.”

I was stunned. She was giving me a pass.
But why?

“Where’s this coming from, Fliss?” I asked.

“Just things I’ve heard about you guys. From Sophie and Lily… and others. I’ve learned a lot by just listening.”

“Like what?”

“Well, Drew is off limits because of Maggie, but the talk is it won’t last much longer because, quite frankly, she’s kind of a bitch.”

“That sounds about right.”

“Brannon is a lost cause,” she continued, “and, for the most part, people are over that. Sophie is just too fucking nice, so people can’t dislike her. Cody is kinda like a big fuckable teddy bear, and girls are vying to be the one that captures his heart, especially since everyone is pretty sure he’d treat them like a princess. And Justin,” she shifted her head on the pillow, “well, Justin will pretty much do anything… and he likes a few at a time.”

“He does. He’d shag the crack in a plate. How about me?” I asked, slightly concerned.

“You’ve been the most discriminating. Nobody has ever been able to really figure out your type or what catches your eye. You’ll go along solo for a while and, out of the blue, you turn into this… this seductive, poetic panty-melter.”

“Jaysus, that’s what they say about me?”

“Yeah, but there’s no pattern to it. Nobody knows, so there is this excitement, this kind of apprehension that hangs in the air. Like all the girls are wondering who you’ll take on next… and when.”

“You’re slaggin’ me, aren’t ya?”

“No, it’s true,” she said. After a moment, she rolled over to face me with a wry, melancholy tilt to her lips. “Plus, they love your accent. They all dream of the things you might say when you’re buried balls deep.”

Her words shouldn’t have shocked me. They were pure Fliss. But they triggered something in my mind and, all of a sudden, I could barely breathe at the thought, the memory, of being buried balls deep in her. My dick lurched, aching with a sudden rush of blood. My throat felt dry to the point of cracking, yet my mouth watered at the thought of tasting her kiss once again.

With all this shite battling around in my head, I couldn’t talk. I was momentarily incapable for a second. Fliss continued to speak.

“I guess Ruth was really disappointed.”

“Ruth?” A sickening twist started in my gut. Ruth had shagged me fierce before I’d left for Dublin. “Did she say something to you?”

“No, but she hasn’t really warmed up to me. It wasn’t until Pauline told me about the big send-off Ruth gave you. I guess she was a little bit disappointed when you showed up back home with me.”

“I’m sorry, Fliss,” I said, knowing how much it tore me apart every time Trent had started going off about her. It had killed me each and every time.

“No biggie,” she murmured, rolling back over, to face away from me once again. “I know my role in all this. Just… if this was a real marriage, it would be pretty tough for a wife to listen to. Maybe just keep it in mind for your next one.”

Just like that, the ache that had started in my balls moved up from my gut to my chest. My constricted lungs seemed to squeeze all the blood from my heart. I lay awake for a long while after she faded off into a fitful sleep.

I didn’t want a next one.

I actually liked the one I had.

 

 

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