Page 78 of Twist of Fate
I open my mouth and then close it, caught off guard by her. And hasn’t that been the theme of the week? Getting constantly knocked on my arse by this woman? “Didn’t buy it?” I grin, feeling something warm settle in my chest when I look at her. Something foreign and new.
“Maybe the rest of them did, but I think I’m starting to learn your tells.”
“Oh yeah?” I throw the backpack I like to take with me on excursions like this over my shoulder. It contains basic medical supplies, a copy of our schedule, and water. Everything else is locked up on the bus.
“Yeah, you get little frown lines between your brows,” she says, reaching up to touch my forehead. My breath catches at the light brush of her fingers. God, I’ve got it bad. “Right here. It’s like you have to concentrate a little harder to lie.”
“See, all this tells me is that you spend a great deal of time staring at my face.”
“Mmm, that’s probably true. It is distracting.”
Collin is doing a decent job of ignoring our blatant flirting, but I can tell by the way he lingers that he’s waiting for us to leave so he can take the bus and park it in the back until it’s time to go.
“Where’s your mam?” I ask, giving Collin a nod as I walk toward the visitor center.
“She told me, and I quote, ‘That boy is crazy if he thinks this fog is lifting anytime soon. I’ve been here long enough to know we’re not seeing shit today.’” I chuckle under my breath because not only did she make little air quotes, but she also perfectly mimicked her mam’s voice. “She went to get coffee. She promised to at least meet me a little later for a photo—even if it’s in the fog.”
“I always hate days like this,” I confess, noticing a bus of school kids unloading to our left. They’re all in uniforms, and judging by how everyone is stretching and yawning, they’re probably here on a day trip from Dublin or somewhere out east. “My mentor always emphasized that while some of these places would get dull for us over time, they were often lifelong dreams for many of our clients. For the most part, I can deliver on all of those dreams regardless of where we go—even in bad weather or large crowds. But when it looks like this?” I shake my head as we finally pass through the gates of the welcome center toward the cliffs. “There isn’t much I can do.”
We walk for a while down the wide path until it forks into two directions. In front of us is a stone wall that runs along the cliff edge. Beyond it, the fog is so thick that it’s hard to believe an ocean lies beneath.
“That’s just life, isn’t it?” She rests her arms on the cool stone, gazing out into the vast emptiness. “Expecting one thing and getting handed something else. So, we got shit weather? We’re still on vacation—in Ireland! It’s all about perspective.”
“So, you’re saying that the next time one of my guests complains about the fog, I should just tell them to suck it up?” I grin.
“Yep.” She laughs and nods. “But I think ‘suck it up, buttercup’ sounds better—especially with the accent.”
“That’s sound advice you have there. Any more pearls of wisdom for the day?”
Her brows furrow as if she’s deep in thought, and for a second, I worry that I’ve upset her. Is she thinking about those flowers? About the note? The wedding that will never occur? But then her brows shoot up, and she grins. “Never pass on the shoulder. Even if your mom tells you it’s legal—it’s not. The officer who pulls you over will not accept that as an excuse.” I burst out laughing, trying to picture that scenario. “Oh, and never trust a man who doesn’t like chocolate.”
“I love chocolate,” I tell her, as my man brain goes right to sex—because it’s pretty much halfway there whenever she’s around anyway. I would give anything to see her covered in it. Drizzled over her naked breasts, her nipples, her—shit, my cock starts to press against the zipper of my jeans. “But not the shitty kind you Americans consider chocolate.”
She grimaces as I attempt to redirect the images in my mind. It’s extremely difficult. “Oh, I’m with you there. I brought an extra backpack just so I can stuff it with those giant chocolate bars from the duty-free shops.”
“You did not.”
She grins. “Oh, yes, I did. I am very serious when it comes to chocolate.”
As am I, apparently.
“I’m learning so much about you today: dog lover, chocolate connoisseur, and I noticed you have a new ring.” I glance down at the gold Claddagh ring on her right hand, recalling how I saw her fidgeting with it earlier on the bus.
A small grin pulls at the corner of her lips. God, I want to bite that lip. “Someone told me I didn’t need to wait around for someone else—that choosing myself was just as important.”
“Not sure those were my exact words, but—” Her elbow jabs my side, making me laugh. “It looks good on you.”
Her breath catches as our eyes meet, and I swear everything around us just disappears. What is it about this woman? I’ve been with more women than I can count, and not one of them has ever made me feel the way she does with just a single glance.
“Looks like you might be right, Mr. Larkin.”
I blink once, then twice, turning my head to see Aisling’s mom approaching us with a knowing smile. “What?”
“The fog,” she remarks with a satisfied smile. “It appears to be lifting.”
As I look out over the cliffs, Ash and I let out a little gasp of surprise. Although we can’t see the sun, the mist is indeed beginning to pull away from the shore, revealing the rugged cliffside and brilliant view beyond.
How did we not notice?
