Page 49 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

Her smile softened, and she leaned in and kissed his cheek, resting her lips there with an intimacy that wove through him. “Yes, I like that.”

The server darted forward with her notepad and pencil, and they separated to order. And their dinner went much like it had the week before. They flirted their way through their cocktails as an Irish band played a classic reel.

“I really love it here,” Sophie said as she dug into her potato wedges while he sampled the chicken wings. “I liked the castle, but this place fits my image of Ireland more. Of course, we should go to the Brazen Donkey next.”

They would be clobbered by everyone in town. “Do you think we’re ready for that? After the nosiness of the people we met tonight?”

She picked up the tequila shot she had indeed ordered and downed it. “I’m game if you are. Besides, I’m having trouble keeping my hands off you in public. If we put it out there with everyone in town, then I won’t have to check myself. Although I still won’t kiss you on the mouth when I drop Greta off at school, of course.”

He fought a smile. “That’s a shame, but I should probably try and set that good example I’m known for.”

She blew out a raspberry. “Probably, but it’s not as fun. But you can swing by my studio any time and kiss me. I’m all alone in there.”

He laughed. “I’ll have to do that sometime. You want to tell me how it’s coming along?”

She grinned and launched into telling him about her furnace and how it was close to the temperature she wanted. Talking with her hands, she shot out details like cannon fire in her excitement. He didn’t completely follow everything she said. What in the world was asoffietta? Had she named something she used after herself? He would have to research glassblowing this weekend to ground himself in the basics. She was so animated and vibrant, he couldn’t bear to interrupt her with technical questions.

By the time they finished their ice cream sundaes, she was playing with the cuff of his shirt, making him very aware of her. He paid for the check and held her hand as they left the restaurant.

He wasn’t ready for their evening to end, but he recalled what she’d said about being intimate in a car. He didn’t want that for them. “Would you like to go to a beach for a little walk? It’s not too far, and with the waning summer light and rising moon, we should be fine despite the cold. The tide will be in, but we can hug the shoreline.”

She stopped in the parking lot and put her arms around him. “I couldn’t think of a better idea.”

When they arrived at the beach, he was glad to see no other cars. Only locals knew about this cove, but with the weather turning, they might have chosen to stay inside. But the wind wasn’t strong, only a gentle stirring around them as they walked down the sandy path through the two pastures where cows were munching loudly on grass.

“They might have the best view of any cow in the world,” Sophie said, throwing out her arms as they reached the beach. “Look at this. Jamie, it’s gorgeous. The water is almost black in the waning light. It makes me wonder if we’ll see a mermaid.”

He touched her face, feeling the power of the sea course through his bones. “It was one of my fondest wishes when I was Greta’s age. As boys, we used to chase seagulls, and we had crab fights on the sand.”

She nestled closer to his body. “Like real crabs?”

“Yes,” he said with an easy laugh. “Sometimes I’d even bring them back home and let them race around in the parlor. My mum used to love that.”

“I can imagine. Who ended up catching them after you finished playing?”

“My dad. He’d grab his cleaver and make us crab legs for dinner.”

Her horrified look was priceless. “His cleaver?”

“He’s a butcher. Or was. Declan took over his place, the Last Chop.”

“That’s a very graphic name but apt.” She grabbed his arm as they wandered onto the beach, the sand giving under their feet. “It seems we’re all alone. You don’t think it’s warm enough to go skinny-dipping, do you?”

He laughed. “If I were a jokester, I’d tell you to go for it. I mean, I’d love to see you slip out of your clothes and slide into the sea. But it’s freezing,mo chroí. Maybe next time I can bring some wood, and we’ll make a fire.”

Her breath seemed to ebb into her like a wave before it rushed back out. “Jamie, I want to make love out here. With you. As the waves sound against the rocks. As the stars shimmer overhead. As the moon rises.”

He cupped her cheek, his heart filling his whole being. “Then here we’ll make love…when we’ve a fire. Until then, come and kiss me.”

She leaned into him, and he brought her flush against him, their lips seeking the other’s in heated passes that had him wanting to lower her onto the sand and cover her with his body.

But soon he pressed back, aware of the chill on her face. Their eyes met and held, and he could have sworn he saw a star fall into the endless sea behind her.

Words of love rose up inside him, ones he’d hoped for, longed for, for so long. He wanted to tell her how much he treasured her sweet, vibrant spirit. How he never wanted to be parted from her ever again. How he would lay down his life to be with her for the rest of his days if need be.

The sound of the sea slapping against the rocks seemed to grow to a roar in his ears. He could feel the urgency around them, the sand and sea changing as the tide ebbed and flowed in its eternal dance under the moon. And he sought words that would not be too soon but were still filled with truth.

“You’re more beautiful than the sea and all the stars above,” he whispered in the silence of the beach.

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