Page 38 of Whiskey & Witches

Carrick stared at her as if she’d lost her bloody mind, and likely she had. Her supposition was mad, and yet, how else could she explain the magical buzz he was feeling, other than a stroke as he’d suspected?

With a scrub of his palms down his face, he stood and held out a hand to help her up, then led her down the hallway to the kitchen. After filling the kettle and turning it on, he leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “Explain.”

“I hear him in my head. It’s like a conversation we’ve had; him telling me he doesn’t make war on women and children.”

“And you don’t remember meeting him before tonight, yeah?”

“No.”

Carrick nodded slowly and turned away to make their tea. As she watched, he prepared it exactly as she liked, and she had to smile at the old familiarity between them. He placed the mug in front of her and raised his brows in question.

“This. Us. The easy rhythm we’ve fallen back into just by the simple act of having tea.” She shrugged and picked up her mug, unsure how to explain it in a way that made sense. But she didn’t have to, because Carrick being Carrick already discerned what she was trying to say. Sitting across from her, he clasped her hand in one of his as he sipped from his cup. A sweet warmth filled her, and she silently thanked Anu for giving her back a large portion of what she’d lost.

“Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong about Ronan, but he seemed invested in helping you recover tonight. Why would he do that if he was behind all our woes?”

She didn’t have a plausible explanation. Every road she went down was a dead end. “Do you think he wastooinvested?”

Pausing with his mug halfway to his lips, Carrick frowned. “Now that you mention it, yeah.”

“I thought so, too. I’m positive I’ve never seen him before. Did he ever say his aunt’s name?”

“Millie MacLavery.”

“Never heard of her.”

Carrick snorted a laugh. “I told him the same thing. Sure, and he thought he could cod us.”

Oddly, she found herself grinning. “I can’t see him pulling the wool over on you or Cian.”

“I’d have made a pact with the Devil himself if I thought it would wake you tonight, Ro. That’s the god’s honest truth.” The chair creaked as he leaned back. “And strangely enough, I didn’t think he was codding me when it came to the concern he felt. It’s why I asked if you knew him. His worry for you was more than that of a stranger.”

“If I’ve met him before, I can’t recall, and that’s bothersome.”

“I’ll have Cian reach out to his contacts to see what they can find. And you can talk to Piper, see what she knows about him. It should be plenty, seeing how he shagged her mother.”

“I can’t believe he played the maggot, and the Thornes let him live to tell the tale.” She sipped her tea and thought of Ronan. He was a charmer, and the power radiating off of him was impressive and awe-inspiring. The entire package was attractive, yet he seemed lonely, too. As if he were in a self-imposed isolation of sorts. She couldn’t say why she got that impression, but it stuck with her all the same.

“Yeah, I’ve met Hoyt Thorne. To hear him talk, you wouldn’t believe he’s as clever as he is. But after watching him in action, you’ll change your thinkin’ soon enough.” Carrick gave her a half-smile. “And of course, there’s Alastair Thorne, who I’d never cross swords with. The man is lethal. But Ronan…” And here, her husband shook his head. “For sure, Ronan has a certain somethin’, and I think it’s a powerful attraction for women and men alike.”

Roisin nodded. She couldn’t argue with Carrick’s assessment. Ronandidhave a certain something, and it was hard to ignore. “It makes him dangerous.”

“It does. He could easily influence others, I’m thinkin’.”

“Did you get the feeling he was sad, Carrick? That underneath it all, he was lonely?”

“I’m afraid I didn’t give him that much thought, pet. All my attention and worry was for you.”

Roisin’s obsessionwith Ronan was worrisome. She seemed fixated on figuring the man out, and Carrick didn’t want that much of her attention devoted to another guy. He leaned forward, and careful to avoid touching her scarred side for fear of her shying away, he caressed her unmarred jawline. “Let it go for now, Ro. You’ve had one major thing after another over the last day. Give your mind a break now.”

“You mean stop thinking about another man,” she said with an arch look.

“That, too.” He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Sure, and I’m the only man you need to obsess over.”

She sandwiched his face between her palms and looked deeply into his eyes. “And I’ve obsessed plenty for the last nine months. Jaysus, I missed you, Carrick.” Her voice broke on his name, and she pressed her lips together, blinking rapidly. “I missed moments like these; the two of us at the table after Aeden falls asleep, sitting and drinking tea or sharing a glass of wine. I felt totally lost without you.”

He couldn’t speak. All the words he wanted to say, the love he felt but couldn’t express, were bottled in his throat behind a thick lump of self-hatred. Instead, he knelt between her legs and buried his head in her chest as she hugged him in a death grip. Tears burned the back of his lids, and he tried his damnedest not to let them fall. He’d cried buckets since the accident, more than a grown man should.

When he could speak, he drew back and said, “When souls were created, ours were carved from one mold, Ro. The Goddess divided it in two, giving one half to you and the other to me. We’re only whole when we’re together.”

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