Page 37 of One Chance to Stay
“It’s Firefly. Of course we will.”
He paused at the bottom of the stairs. “Thanks.”
“Same,” I said. The valve had turned, relieving the pressure, pressure I had been putting on myself. Like Jackson, I didn’t have to make therightchoice. I just had to choose. An adventure awaited me, and there were dozens of things I could move toward that would give me a sense of fulfillment.
“Too many things,” I mumbled. But that was a problem for another time. Right now, I needed to text Seamus and put our plans in writing. Eventually, I’d drag him out of his house, but right now, I wanted him to feel comfortable with me… withus.
I SAID WHAT I SAID
I knocked.
Other than the lights inside the house, it was almost impossible to see anything else. Flurries had started, and for a moment, I had flashbacks crossing the field to reach Seamus’s front door. Every time I thought about it, a shiver worked its way down my spine and into my toes.
He opened the door. Or at least a man who looked like Seamus did.
“Who are you and what have you done with Seamus?”
The wild hair on his head had been trimmed tight to the scalp. Any closer and he’d have a shine. Even his beard had been cut, giving it a nice rounded curve that showed off the apples of his cheeks. The button-down blue shirt and pair of pressed jeans completed the look.
His eyes remained focused on the wooden floorboard. We might have spent a night naked, but it had been in the throes of drunken passion. I wouldn’t have called it our first date, and by the look of things, neither would Seamus.
I complimented the men at the bar. Nightly, I’d give them winks, boost their egos, and make them feel like a million bucks. My bravado escaped out the door before Seamus shut it.
“You look handsome.”
He mumbled.
“What?”
He glanced up for a split second. “You do, too.”
Three words were all his strength could muster, and it had worked. I wanted to kiss him,to grab hold of that beard and pull him close and see what he wore under those jeans. I managed a modicum of composure.
Instead, I held up a canvas bag. “Simon was kind enough to prepare a lasagna for us.” With no prep for dinner, it’d give us a chance to sit down and talk. Or at least I’d be able to talk. I expected Seamus to nod, grunt, and mumble.
Not waiting for him to offer, I walked down the hallway toward his kitchen. I set our dinner on the counter. Opening the bag, I could smell the mix of cheese and… oh, he made garlic bread as well? I took the loaf out and spotted a sticky note attached to the lasagna.
“Enjoy your date. 350 for 45. XOXO.”
A second later, I slid the lasagna into the oven and turned the dial. Seamus had leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Guarded as the first day we met, I realized scaling the fortress walls wouldn’t be a one-and-done situation. I wandered closer, his eyes watching like a hawk.
“We’ve got some time.” Resting a hand on his forearm, his body language changed. Rigid shoulders eased, and as quickly as our skin made contact, his eyes turned down. “Are you going to be a gentleman and offer me a drink?”
He scoffed, arms dropping as he turned around. I stifled a gasp as his hand reached back. The enormity of the gesture wasn’t lost on me. As if a limited time offer, my hand thrust forward, holding onto his pinky. I followed him, a death grip refusing to let go.
“Have a seat.” His hand guided me toward the living room. I took a seat at the end of the couch. He’d sit across the room in the recliner. No. Turning, I positioned myself so that it made the most sense to join me on the couch. If we were going to talk, I wanted proximity. Was it bad that I wished his couch were a loveseat, forcing us to brush against one another while we waited for dinner?
He returned with drinks. He offered me one, and for a moment, I watched his face as he considered his recliner. Yes! A minor victory as he chose the couch, middle seat. He sat within reach, the rigidity returning to his body.
“Relax,” I said. “I promise I won’t bite.”
“I- I-”
Nerves. Something about the situation made him uncomfortable. A little bartender magic and the ability to plow through awkwardness, I’d bridge this gap.
“Grace came to Firefly with some great news.”
He nodded. No, smile, but I’d take it as a win. “She gets excited whenever an adoption happens.” His fingers fidgeted on his glass. “She insists on stopping by. Says she misses her dad, but I know she’s checking up on me.”
