“Did he let you borrow it?”she asked.
The bartender returned with their food, leaving a bottle of malt vinegar on the table.
Colum was grateful for the interruption because it gave him time to swallow down the growing lump in his throat.
He was leaving out a huge part of this memory.He hadn’t broken into Eric’s house alone, and it hadn’t been him who’d tried to cover for their presence there by lying about borrowing the books.In truth, he’d said nothing at all, Josephine his voice.She’d always been his voice.
She should be a part of this story, but talking about her…
While Colum had pulled his head out of the bottle, he still couldn’t speak of his beloved sister.Not to Eric, not to Franco, not to anyone.
If he said her name aloud, to Annie, who was looking at him with such kindness, he’d fall apart.
Sitting next to her felt too good.No one had smiled at him like she was in a very long time.
He knew he made a terrible first, second, and eightieth impression, but apparently, he hadn’t stuffed it with Annie.She’d invited him to eat with her and she seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him.He couldn’t recall anyone—with the exception of Eric and Franco—ever looking past his awkwardness and finding something worth sticking around for.
Colum watched as she dug into her chips with vigor, sprinkling them liberally with vinegar.After eating each one, she briefly closed her eyes in bliss, her plump, pink lips tipped up in pleasure.What would he give to kiss those lips, to taste the salt and vinegar there?Would they be as soft as they looked?
Annie was a classic beauty with delicate features that she knew how to accentuate with just the lightest touch of makeup.Her cerulean-blue eyes were framed with long, dark lashes, her cheekbones high and tinged with the lightest hue of pink.Her hair was smooth, almost silky, resembling that of smoky brown quartz.
Looking at her, he felt a stirring, a pull, as desires he’d locked away for too long suddenly began rising to the surface.
It wasn’t until she glanced up at him with a soft, knowing smile that he realized he’d been staring.He hastily averted his eyes, his face hot with embarrassment at being caught ogling her.
“Er,” he started, trying to recall what they’d been talking about, but he came up blank.
“The book,” Annie reminded him.
“Oh, yeah.Eric let me borrow the book,” Colum said, continuing his story as they ate.“He gave me a week to read it.Said if I returned able to discuss it intelligently, he wouldn’t tell my da about breaking into his house.”
“I assume your father wouldn’t have been happy with you.”
“Da was a firm believer that any bad behavior meant you needed more farm chores.And Ma had a wooden spoon.”
Annie winced sympathetically.“So did you go back to Eric’s?”
“Two days later,” Colum confessed.
Annie laughed with delight.“Well, I don’t have to ask if you were able to discuss it intelligently because I have no doubt you nailed it.”
Colum grinned, pleased by her compliment.“After that, Eric let me borrow any book I wanted, always with the same caveat.I can’t begin to count how many books we’ve discussed over the years.”
“It sounds like you’re close to your fleet admiral,” she mused.
“He’s like a brother to me,” Colum admitted.“Without him, I never would have been able to go to university, never would have joined the Masters’ Admiralty.Without him, I’d still be on that sheep farm in Galway.And I would have hated every minute of it.”
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?”Annie said, leaning forward, resting her elbows on the table.“How a chance meeting can change our course.How one person can make such a huge impact on our lives.”
It sounded as if Annie spoke from experience, and he was about to ask her about it.Until he heard the first chord of a song.The trad music the pub was playing had been unnoticed background noise until now.
The lump he’d managed to push down returned, clogging his throat completely, until he couldn’t breathe.
Mercifully, Annie didn’t seem to need a response to her comment, or she was distracted by the food and beer because she took another bite of her fish, washing it down with the Guinness.
Colum clenched his hands together beneath the table.Why the fuck wasn’t the unbearable thudding of his heart loud enough to drown out that damn song?
All along the banks of the Royal Canal, the Dubliners sang.