Page 33 of Haunted Nights & Savage Sins
10
BRENNA
A few weeksago I would’ve never guessed that I would be sitting here in the parlor room with Cormac laughing.
The monster is nothing more than a fucking teddy bear.
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at him again as someone who would do me harm.
After our walk, we made our way back into the house, but I was so keyed up that I couldn’t just go back into my room. I asked him if he wanted to sit and talk some more.
Of course he thought I was just humoring him and told me right away that I didn’t need to sit with him if I didn’t want to. The surprise on his face when I told him that I did want to sit with him and that I was interested in learning more about him was endearing.
We talked more about what was going on in life, the fact that there were no TVs in the home, and the fact that he’s never hada funnel cake. Cormac seems to have missed out on so many things in life. Instead of focusing on the tragedy of that, I focused on the fact that there are so many things that we can do together.
It’s not until we started talking about some of the embarrassing things his brothers have done over the years that we started laughing like hyenas. He has so many stories about Killian it almost makes me sorry that I’m an only child.
I heave in a breath and grab my stomach as I try to inhale. “He really did that? I don’t believe it.”
“He did. Then he whistled and tried to walk away as if everyone didn’t just see him. He’s a character for sure.” Cormac chuckles deeply before he picks up his glass and takes a sip of the whiskey he has next to him.
I wipe at the corners of my eyes and focus on the bottle. I’ve had alcohol before but not to excess. I never really had the taste for it. Tonight, I think I want to indulge a little bit.
“May I have some of that?” I point to the bottle next to him.
His eyes jerk down and then back up to me, a little surprise on his features. “Sure.” He grabs a clean glass and pours me a healthy amount.
I get up from where I’m sitting and walk over to him, taking the glass from his hands and taking a sip. It tastes like warm cinnamon, a little sweet; there’s no bite like I’m used to from the alcohol I tasted back in my homeland. Before I can stop myself, I drink the whole cup down.
“Whoa, easy there. You want to sip that slowly,” he warns, narrowing his eyes on me.
“Cormac, I’m as Irish as they come. A little alcohol won’t do anything to me.” I hold my cup out and wait for him to pour me some more.
“If you say so.” He pours me another healthy cup. I don’t drink this one as fast but still faster than him. The third time around I don’t wait for him to pour me another cup. I get up and do it myself. By the time I get to the middle of the third cup, I realize that I might have just messed up. The world starts to spin slightly, and everything is becoming funnier than it once was. Even the way he looks at me is making me feel good. Thankfully I have enough wits about me to keep the conversation going at a simple pace. What I don’t expect is how much the alcohol is lowering my inhibitions. Things I would’ve never thought to ask anyone slip out of my mouth without hesitation.
“You told me earlier you’ve never had a girlfriend; why is that?”
He gulps down another swig of his drink, and the smile dips a little from his face.
“That’s a silly question. You know damn well why I never had a girlfriend.”
I blink a few times and look around the room as if the answer would somehow pop out from the shadows.
“I don’t. You are cantankerous for sure, but after a little while you seem to be an okay man. I’m sure there’s a woman somewhere who would chance having a few conversations with you.”
“It’s not my personality that puts the women off,” he snaps at me. He’s getting upset, but the alcohol has given me a bravery I didn’t have before. I don’t back down from the line of questioning.
“What is that supposed to mean? Is there something else stopping the women from getting to know you?”
“Brenna. I don’t want to talk about this. You know why. It’s my face.” He mutters and looks away from me, something he does often when he starts to feel embarrassed.
I stare at him for a second. Honestly, I’d completely forgotten about the scar on the side of his face. It has already become just another part of him. It didn’t stand out to me anymore.
I let out a sigh and do my best to walk over to him steadily. It’s harder than I want to admit. I slide onto his lap, and he jerks back as if he weren’t expecting me to do that.
I grab hold of his chin and turn his face to look at me.
“Cormac, there is nothing wrong with your face. You have a scar. Millions of people have scars. Millions of people have scars and still find love and get married. People with scars become male whores. Don’t you know the running joke? Women love a man with scars. Makes you look like a bad boy. We just can’t resist.” I toss my head back and joke-laugh.
