Page 58 of Beneath Pearly Irish Skies
“He would at that,” Kade said softly. “You are to me though, so until you believe, let me tell you why I feel as I do.”
Her breath caught as she waited. She found herself leaning forward even.
“Megan, to me you’re like the sunrise and the first roses in spring. You’re everything good in the world, and I’m so glad you’ve come to Ireland at last—to be with me.”
Swallowing thickly, she tangled her fingers with his. “I am too.”
His brown eyes held hers as they drank Irish Old Fashioneds and feasted on a seafood medley of lobster, crab, and cod. She asked him which cocktails he liked to make, and he gave her a few examples, describing the ingredients and promising to make her one anytime she wanted.
She wanted.
Over sticky toffee pudding, which they shared, he asked her more about her pottery, and she ended up telling him stories about those first years, when she’d had her center and could make piece after piece without thought.
“You’re going to have that back and then some, Megan,” he said as they left the restaurant and drove home.
Home.
The word had seemed natural. Caisleán did feel like home. And so did the man next to her.
She texted Jamie to check on Ollie and was reassured that she needn’t worry—he was staying with Angie and Carrick.
When she put her hand on Kade’s thigh, his eyes met hers in the darkness of the car. She knew he was smiling, and as they passed between the pewter-tinged mountains lit by a crescent moon, she knew she wasn’t just falling in love with him.
She was in love with him.
He took her back to the farm for her car, and when they arrived beside the shed, he leaned over and kissed her. His mouth started out slow and gentle, but soon his tongue traced the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth to him and fell into a pool of desire. The seat belt was constraining, and she chafed at it holding her in place. Kade nipped her lower lip and edged back.
“We should get you back to your cottage, love,” he said, his voice thick with desire and emotion. “I’ll follow you home.”
“You don’t need to.” But how she loved that he wanted to.
“A man takes his girl home.”
She reveled in the deep timbre of his voice, realizing what he said was true.
She was his.
