Page 38 of Back in the Saddle

“I wouldn’t call it speaking to me. He yelled it at me.”

“Because you never fucking listen.”

Mum held her hands up. I took a step back.

He did something wrong. I called him out on it. They were facts. But life wasn’t just about facts, it was about feelings, too. I chewed on my lip.

Mum stood directly in front of us. “You are not going to repair your relationship if you can’t talk or listen to each other.”

I needed to pull my head in. “I should have thought about how I spoke to you about it this morning.”

Ciaron didn’t say a word, didn’t give an inch. That was so unlike him. He was usually the peacemaker. Had I really pushed him this far? Was there no hope? I had to believe there was. Last night I thought we’d made some inroads. But Mum was right. If we didn’t speak about our problems and find a way to fix them, there wouldn’t be much hope.

“Ciaron?” Mum asked.

He stared a while longer. My heart rate increased. Please say something. Please.

“I should have admitted I’d made a mistake.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And I should have told Taylor I had a problem with the way she spoke this morning.”

Mum rested her hand on each of our shoulders. “You can do this. I know you can. Please be patient with each other and listen.”

I nodded. Ciaron turned back to the sink and resumed washing. I dried the next glass. And Mum put the last one away. This was the first step in many. I needed to remember we hadn’t got here overnight, and we wouldn’t be out of it overnight. We’d need to try to talk like two rational and mature people without letting the anger and resentment get in the way.

It wasn’t going to be easy. Yes, we’d made mistakes today, but we were still both here, not giving up.

We could do this.

13

Ciaron

When Lorraine left, I followed Taylor to our room. One night later and it still felt weird. Normally, we’d brush past each other as we got ready for bed. Now we stood in the doorway staring into the space.

“Do you want to shower in here?” I asked. “I can go to the other bathroom.”

“OK. Thanks.”

I moved past her. “Just let me grab my toothbrush.”

I went into the ensuite. When I came out, Taylor was standing just outside with her PJs in hand. She gave me a small smile as I walked past. This was so bloody awkward. It’s like we were two strangers living in the same house.

I hopped into the shower and turned the hourglass timer I’d put in there for the kids. We were in drought and twenty-minute showers were not acceptable.

I needed to start considering how Taylor was feeling in our darkest days too. I know I felt lonely, but she probably did as well. And isolated. Why the hell couldn’t she have just listenedwhen I’d tried to speak to her? Maybe even worked less and helped me with the kids? It was like I was a single parent before I was even a single parent.

I rested my hand against the wall as the water spilled down my back. Taylor was in the shower a few rooms away, naked, water cascading over her curves. I knew what every one of them looked like. What they felt like. We’d showered many times together, touching, tasting, fucking. My fingers twitched, remembering what they felt like. Fuck. I wanted her in every way possible.

My other hand wrapped around my dick. Images of me taking her flicked through my mind. Us on top of a haystack. In the river. Her riding me in the office. In the barn. More and more. I paused on our first time. The morning after we met.

Taylor snuggled up closerto me as the morning sun filtered in the hotel window. So close, there was no space between us, from our shoulders to our ankles. My lips brushed her neck. She sighed in response.

“Good morning,” I said.

She pushed her butt against my hardness. “Seems like you’re ready to show me a good time.”

A jolt of energy pulsated through me. “Are you ready?”

“Show me what you got, Irish Boy.”

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