Page 34 of One Chance to Stay
“Nice try.” I followed him as he continued pulling open drawers, inspecting the contents, and then moving on to the next. “Working in town doesn’t mean you’re a part of it.”
“I like my privacy.”
“You like keeping people at arm’s length.”
His head turned slowly, the gaze void of emotion. I didn’t mean the words to cut. There should have been a question mark at the end of the sentence. I had touched a nerve, and somewhere on the other side of it were the answers I sought.
“I didn’t mean?—”
“Yes. You did.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Not an answer.”
“Only answer you’re getting.”
“Have you learned nothing? I’m not going away.”
“I’ve noticed.”
His words rode the fine line between grumpy and rude. Seamus knew how to walk in the gray area and always fell on the side of conservative. When he spoke, his gruffness must leave most people reeling, desperate to escape the discomfort. I recognized the defense mechanism, and I refused to take the bait.
“I won’t stop trying.”
He reached into a drawer, rummaging about. When he shut it, he thrust his hand out. I opened my palm, and he dropped two tiny screws. Without asking, I knew they were plate screws. Again, his actions softened him. Seamus communicated through gestures with more ease than he did words. Little by little, I added words to my vocabulary.
“Still won’t stop trying.” I stepped forward until mere inches separated our bellies. My voice softened, coming out in a whisper. “About that bet.” I pocketed the screws, freeing my hand to touch the center pocket covering the chest of his overalls.
Seamus’s eyes closed. Starved for touch, I wanted to provide a feast. The goal shifted, or at least the purpose had. I no longer wanted to break down his walls to get under his skin. Theyneeded to come down so we could exist in this moment without the fear of him retreating. I wanted to advance, to let my hand climb to his neck, but I held still.
“Another night of dancing?”
His lips rolled inward, biting back what I hoped would be a positive confirmation. He shook his head. My heart sank. Yet, he didn’t break contact. I only dared to push so hard, but I wanted to thrust myself into this man’s life.
“Your choice.”
He took my hand, thumb running across my knuckles. I could write a thesis on those eyes, the dark green circles with shades of emerald and forest. Every touch came with a history, a pain that rose to the surface. I’d ask for details later, but I couldn’t leave him drowning in a memory.
“How about I come over? Sound good to you?”
He nodded.
He broke my heart and then picked up the pieces, and in his own way, he pieced them back together. Seamus didn’t need to say it aloud, but he wanted to be wooed.
“Seamus, would you go on a date with me?”
It reminded me of middle school when I asked Ginny Faulkner out. My voice cracked as I asked in front of her friends. My tween heart had been elated when she said yes. I hoped for that same feeling.
Seamus bit his lip again as he nodded.
I didn’t ask as I moved forward, standing on the tips of my toes. I didn’t want to startle him. I didn’t want to ruin it. But I needed to know if a kiss could mean something more. I kissed Seamus, a quick peck on those thin lips. His mustache tickled while I wanted to grab hold of his beard and pull him forward. Not wanting to hurl him from his comfort zone, I retreated.
The burning red of his cheeks made the white of his beard shine.
“I’ll text.” I raised an eyebrow. “You’re old-fashioned. I’ll call.”
