Page 57 of Beneath Pearly Irish Skies
She stroked the fabric of his shirt, imagining the skin under it. “It’s tempting to stay here.”
He lifted her chin and kissed her. “It is, and yet I think it would be better for us to go. There’s no need to rush what’s coming. When we’re ready, we’ll know.”
“You don’t think I’m ready?”
Her knee-jerk reaction of feeling wrong kicked in before she realized he was smiling at her in the same glorious way he always did. The unrest inside her started to ebb away, like water from the shoreline.
“I think making love with each other is going to be wonderful and more powerful than we both can imagine right now.” He caressed her cheek. “Maybe it’s because I work with animals, but even in their mating process, there’s a courting period where they come to know each other. I’d like that for us.”
She realized she did too. She’d only been with three guys—her high school boyfriend, a short relationship in college, and then Tyson. She’d gone to bed with each of them quickly, caught up in the high of liking and being liked and wanting to please them. Perhaps it was time to try another way. “I’d like that too, but Idowant you.”
His brown eyes warmed. “I want you too,” he said, leaning down and kissing her neck. “And I really do love this new haircut and look. Megan, you are so beautiful.”
She finally felt that way, although it was new and precious—like kissing and touching him. “And I think you’re the most wonderful man in the whole world.”
He laughed. “I wish my father believed that. But let’s go. We have a nice drive ahead.”
The drive wasn’t nice. It wasmagnificent. Brown and purple mountains hugged long planes of green and gold. Cows grazed. Mountain sheep hugged the road, their independence clear from their proud stance. And wrapping around it all was a sky she once would have called gray.
“You’re right,” she said, holding his hand as he drove. “The skies are pearly.”
He lifted her hand for a kiss. “I knew you’d see it when you were ready,mo chuisle.”
My pulse, she recalled. She was the pulse that beat his heart. But he did the same for her. It gave her the courage to say, “Kade, I’m falling in love with you.”
“Good,” he said, smiling that beautiful smile of his. “Then we’re of the same mind, for I’m head over heels in love with you.”
She pressed back into the seat, his words making her want to tap her feet in delight.
When they reached the restaurant, she exited his jeep with her mouth agape. Tucked around the corner of the narrow valley running through mountains covered in pine and stone, a large lake stretched out in shades of mirror and midnight. “It’s gorgeous here.”
“I’ve always thought so,” he said, taking her hand. “And quiet. When I was a boy, I thought trees absorbed the sound around them. Now I know they do. Especially the ones around here. These are old trees, you see, planted hundreds of years ago. I can’t imagine how far-reaching their roots are, but you can feel the wisdom in them. The seafood we’re going to eat tonight comes from this lake too, and the magic you feel here is always in the meal.”
Some of his comments were startling to her. Until Ireland, until him, she’d never believed that anything could be magical. But he was right—itwasquiet, the kind of silence usually found in a church or a library. Yet her heart wasn’t only peaceful. She was content in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Maybe ever. She touched her shirt. She felt like she was part of the magic now. That was certainly something she’d be writing in her journal tonight.
“Kade, I’m really grateful to be here in Ireland, and I’m really glad to be here with you too.”
“Me too, love,” he said, kissing her softly and then leading her to the restaurant’s bright blue front door. She somehow wasn’t surprised that Kade knew their young greeter, a blond teenager, or the charming bartender with the bald head and friendly smile.
“What are you planning on drinking?” he asked after they were seated beside a large window with a view of the lake and mountains. “Tom makes a wonderful Irish Old Fashioned. That’s my favorite here. Some Powers Gold whiskey, Bénédictine liquor, and bitters. I think you’d enjoy it.”
She remembered the cocktail grouping on the silver tray in his cottage. “How is it you know and like cocktails? Don’t most Irish people usually drink whiskey or beer?”
“Do you remember me telling you about my childhood friend who fell off a tractor?” he asked, his face softening. “Ryan is a bartender at his cousin’s bar in Dublin. He’s a mad scientist with cocktails, I’m proud to say. It’s an incredible story of family helping each other. He hasn’t only embraced the city and a busier way of life. He’s thrived.”
“How wonderful,” she said, loving the way he smiled as he talked about his friend.
“I tell many of my clients this story,” Kade said, his face alight with joy, “so they can imagine something special for themselves. They might not know what it is yet, but hope in the human heart is critical to living. Without it, we wither. I try and go to Dublin every six months to see Ryan, and he’s taught me to make a few drinks. He says the ingredients are simple and that’s where the magic is. Making them keeps him feeling close to me. He’s a wonder to behold, Megan, let me tell you.”
She reached her hand out to him. “Kade Donovan—you are quite simply the best man alive.”
“You keep saying that, love.” He traced the delicate V between her thumb and forefinger, sending a shiver through her. “Do you know what that makes you?”
She shook her head.
“The most wonderful woman in the world.”
“I’m not.” Then she laughed. “Liam would say I have more journal writing to do.”
