Page 38 of An Irish Kiss
“I know.”
She frowned.“Can you even swim?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.”
* * *
She still didn’t believehim?Okay, he could understand why she might have some trust issues, but this was taking his shame to a whole new level.A level somewhere in the basement, or below even that.
He huddled into his blanket, refusing to look at the people standing outside the boatshed.He’d caught a glimpse of red hair and figured one was probably Aisling.
He sighed, the action drawing in the scent of Rory’s fragrance that lined her jacket.He knew she didn’t like him, but the fact she’d pre-warmed the jacket made him feel like she might not outright hate him.
“Uh, I’m really sorry for putting you to all this t-trouble.”
She quit the engine and steered the boat into the boathouse, and he wondered what she was really thinking.He knew she thought him a pain.That was fair enough.But he really wanted her to know he was grateful.
“Um, Rory?”
She glanced around.Her face softened.“I’m glad you’re okay.”
He stood, tried to unzip her jacket but his fingers were still too clumsy, the cold making them ache.He stumbled, and the boat rocked.She put out a hand, flat on his chest, and he held it close to his heart.
She frowned.“What are you doing?”
“Before the others get here, I just wanted to say that I’m glad it was you who came to my rescue.”
“Why?”Her voice was breathy.
“Because I didn’t think you liked me.”
She tugged her hand away.“I certainly didn’t want you to die.”
Oh.So maybe he’d been a bit presumptive in thinking she’d gotten over her dislike.“Um, anyway, I want you to know I’m in your debt.”
Her smile held a disconcerting quality.“I know that.”
Right.
The door opened, and Aisling and a grizzled older man burst in.“Are you both okay?”Aisling demanded.
“We’re fine.”Rory jerked a thumb at him.“This one is feeling a wee bit sorry for himself.”
“I’m not,” he protested.“I’m just a bit c-cold, that’s all.”
She studied him, then half-smiled.“Come on then.Let’s get you warmed up inside.”
Heat pooled in his belly at her smile, at the way her gaze finally met and melded with his at last.
He smiled, and saw how her expression softened a little more.And suddenly wished her sister and the old man who was fussing with the kayak were far away.Maybe there was a way to reconcile, to see if these fluttering sensations could develop into something more, something real.
The old man held out a hand, and Aidan gripped it, and was hefted up onto dry land.He waited for Rory to finish then she was helped up and out, bumping into him as she stood beside him.
“Oops, sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he murmured.
