Page 122 of Beside Golden Irish Fields
She brushed the lapel of his blue suit before laying her hand there. “I do. Did you see the painting I did this morning?”
“You mean after I fell asleep after you had your way with me? Or right before that, when you asked if I ever count sheep to go to sleep?”
“I was curious!”
Now that had been downright funny. “No, I didn’t see your painting. Bets called me about picking up the decorations for today.” He fingered her waist, set off by her formfitting blue dress, embroidered with red and white flowers trailing up the sleeves. Her clothes were slowly changing as she found styles to suit the new her, and he loved seeing this further expression of her essence.
She brought up her phone. “It won’t have the same energy or size, but I think you’ll get it.”
The painting was of him alone, mostly in blue tones save his face, standing tall yet somehow relaxed, if the way she’d drawn his shoulders was any indication. He looked years younger than he’d looked before. “This is how you appear to me today. I wanted to commemorate it. In the States, we’d say, ‘You’ve come a long way, baby.’”
“So have you,” he said, holding her close.
“I’m glad you’re at peace with everything, Carrick.”
He inhaled the feeling. “It’s a prized way of being after so many years of struggle. In fact, the best part of the way I’m feeling these days is standing right in front of me.”
“Right back at you,a stór.”
He fought a grin, but she hit him anyway. “Hey, your Gaelic is getting better,” he said, lifting his hands. “But really you should call memy treasurein English. I rather like it when you do.”
“I call one part of you that,” she said, looking down briefly and then giving him a saucy wink. “Thanks to you, I’ll be able to paint all of you here in the arts center.”
“Oh, happy day,” he said, pulling her to him. “Maybe Declan is right. We should cut out of here before—”
“I’ve been looking for the two of you,” Cormac O’Sullivan said, arriving in his best suit and a top hat.
“You’re looking very dashing today,” Angie said.
“Biggest gift to the village since we were founded, and it’s being commemorated with pictures left and right. A man has to look his best. Now about yourselves…”
Carrick groaned as the small man brought out his black book.
Angie started laughing. “Let me guess? They’re betting on how soon I’ll be teaching an official nudes class.”
“Yes, but that’s not why I interrupted your kissing,” he said, lowering his gaze. “I’m wondering—as is the village—when the good news will be announced.”
Angie’s brow knit, but Carrick only glared at the man. “When it’s time, man. Now be off with you.”
“What good news?” She gasped then. “You mean when I’m pregnant?”
Carrick startled at that, while Cormac crossed himself and said, “Jesus, if that’s the way you want to go, but here I was thinking you might be official and such before such a happy event.”
“We will be official before then,” Carrick said, glaring at him.
“Ah… So it’s in the works then.” Cormac waved his book in the air. “Good. One more question.”
“No,” Carrick said flatly.
“It’s of interest to many in the village if you’ll be buying another piece of land, an already built place, or constructing your own.”
“Oh, feck off, little man,” Carrick said, turning him around and shoving him gently away.
He waved at the people in the crowd watching the spectacle, then positioned himself and Angie away from prying eyes. “Will they never cease to butt in?”
She put her hand to her mouth, but he could still see she was laughing. “It appears our future plans are of interest to the village. You know, it’s actually kind of nice. I’ve never had anyone care about me like that. Or bet on me, for that matter.”
He brought her close to him. “Well, since there are questions in the air… You mentioned us having a baby in the future. Is that something that’s swirling in your mind then?”
