Page 62 of The Seer

“You were faithful to me all these years, but I wasn’t faithful to you.”

“Why would ya be? I hurt you when I didn’t return. How could I ever expect you wouldn’t move on?” He was being more reasonable than he’d normally be. Yes, jealousy was eating him up, but the blame lay solely at his door, not hers. “You’d have been mad to wait over twenty years for me to come knockin’, Taryn-Taryn.”

“I know.” Still, she sounded sad, and he could feel her brain buzzing.

As an idea formed in his mind, he rushed to block her from his thoughts.

“I’ve a grand plan. Don’t move.”

He jumped up and ran for the wardrobe. A quick search of the top shelf provided what he was looking for, and he pulled the old t-shirt over his head, then slipped into his favorite jeans, but left them unbuttoned. Fintan pulled another shirt from the shelf, and as it passed by his nose, he smiled. Her long-ago scent still lingered on the material from his spell to preserve it. Once a year, on the anniversary of their first meeting, he allowed himself to hold it close and wallow in the memories of their aborted romance. Yes, he was a sentimental fool, but no one ever measured up to Taryn-Taryn Stephens by his ruler.

“Put it on.” Fintan handed her the shirt.

Eyes wide and jaw slack, she stared at the material. “You kept the shirt from our first meeting?”

“Well, you turned out to be easier than ya led me to believe, but I still had to work for it that night, yeah?”

She laughed as she slipped into the t-shirt. “It’s not my fault. I was charmed by an Irish singer in a boy ba?—”

“If ya feckin’ say it, I’ll not be responsible for me actions,” he warned.

The flash of her straight white teeth hit him low in the gut.

“Now what?” she asked. Her eyes shone brighter than diamonds under LED lights, and he basked in her eagerness, felt through their connection.

“We start over.” Fintan lifted his hand, pausing a hairsbreadth from her face. Removing the block, he let her access their link. “May I?”

It took but a moment for her to understand, and a small smile played on her mouth as she nodded. With trembling fingers, he stroked her silky smooth cheek, tracing her jawline, then cupping her neck.

“What’s your name?” he asked huskily.

“Taryn. Taryn Stephens.” And in an exact recreation of that night, her voice held the same sexy breathiness he fucking adored.

“Well, it’s nice to meet ya, Taryn-Taryn Stephens. I’m Fintan Sullivan.”

She giggled, like the first time, and he grinned, relieved she understood him as well as she did.

“That was made obvious at the beginning of your set,” she said pertly.

Recalling his boggled mind and careless reaction to the fact, he shrugged. “And now the introductions are out of the way, can I snog ya, then?”

“Snog?”

“Kiss. I’ve a powerful need to kiss ya, love.”

She nodded, not as bashful after all these years, but her radiance hadn’t dimmed. Similar to the first time, her agreement created a starburst of happiness in his chest, and his stomach tightened. He wasted no time leaning in.

Taryn was the sweet nectar to his buzzing bee, and the sense of rightness was still there, making him deliriously happy. They didn’t need flowery words or any of the ridiculous gestures standard in a new courtship, and for that, Fintan was exceedingly grateful.

Putting the slightest of distances between them, he pressed light kisses across her closed lids, along her nose, trailing to her ear. He drew the lobe between his teeth, gently biting down before sucking.

Taryn gasped and clutched his shoulders tighter.

“It’s a good thing Donal’s not here and we already have a room.” Tipping her head, she gave him full access to her throat, and he obliged her with love nips from her jaw to her collarbone.

She moaned, and his Siren took note.

“Down, boy,”she told it.

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