Page 17 of Aidan

His hypnotic and bright blue eyes are hidden by closed lids whose entirely too long lashes make me envious. Same with his full lips. My fingers itch to sketch him exactly the way he is. Relaxed yet still holding on to the slight edge of danger he possesses while awake. My gaze travels the length of him again and then up to his face. This time, he’s staring back.

“What are you doing in here?” The words tumble out.

He unfolds his arms and pushes himself to sitting with a groan. “Christ, those are some uncomfortable chairs.”

“Aidan?”

He looks over at me. “I got locked inside.”

I glance at the door. Oh shit. I stumbled upstairs last night, not even thinking about the fact the door was locked and that he’d have no way of getting out. Well, he could have left, but that would have meant the pub would be unlocked the entire night.

“I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you come and get me? I would have let you out or you could have slept on the couch. It would have been far more comfortable than those chairs.”

“You were pissed. It’s a fitting punishment, being forced to sleep on hard chairs for a night, I suppose.” He stands and slips his shirt over his head, hiding the stunning canvas of his body.

Again, my fingers twitch with the desire to put his likeness to paper. “I guess you’re right.” There’s still a twinge of guilt.

“You’re up early,” he says while he puts the chairs back where they belong and I slide into the nearest booth. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I took three shots of whiskey in less than a minute and barely slept, which five years ago, wouldn’t have even stunned me. But I haven’t drank more than a a beer here and there in those five years, so it sort of hit me.”

He sits across from me and lays his forearms on the table.

I take slow sips of my tea. Thankfully my stomach has settled a little and my head isn’t throbbing as bad as it had been. We sit for a few more minutes in silence. I rub my thumb up and down the outside of my cup. “How much did Da borrow?”

“I told you I’ve taken care of it.”

“Tell me,” I demand.

Aidan sighs. He knows how stubborn I am when I want something. “Over ten thousand.”

I blink back tears and swallow. The nausea returns full force.“I see.”

That amount is probably nothing to. Merely a drop in the bucket. Pocket change. The thought alone is enough to make me sick.

“You don’t have to worry about it anymore,” Aidan assures me yet again.

“Not worrying about it apparently means marriage. It won’t work, though. Your life is in Dublin. Mine is here.” I palm my tea cup and squeeze.

“Except Campbell says he doesn’t believe we’re getting married if you’re here and I’m not. Which means he won’t clear your debt.” His jaw clenches. “Besides, you and I both know running your Da’s pub is never what you’ve wanted to do. Aisling is only six. That’s another twelve years of being here until she leaves for uni. Do you really want to be forty and still living in Burtonport working at a pub you don’t even want? You live upstairs for fuck’s sake. There’s no getting away from here.”

Aidan’s words hurt. Then again, the truth often does.

“So what? I’m just supposed to give this whole place up, marry you, and move the kids to Dublin—uprooting them from everything they know—because your psycho brother-in-law won’t believe this farce you’ve created if we don’t? What happens then, Aidan? Do we just go about our daily lives while you do whatever it is that you do in the mafia and I, what? Stay home and keep house?” I lash out.

He reaches out and grabs my hand. “You can do whatever you want to do. You could even go back to art school. Get the degree you wanted. Open the art gallery you always dreamed about.”

Tears gather in my eyes and spill down my cheeks. I’d given up that dream when my mum died, because Da needed me here.

“Besides, I know you, remember? You’d be terrible at keeping house.” Aidan grins.

I sputter out a watery laugh and swipe my face with my free hand. The offer is more than tempting. “That still doesn’t answer the question of what if you fall in love with someone, or I do? I don’t want to do that to either of us.”

He squeezes my hand. “There are no guarantees with anything in life. But I can promise you this. No matter what happens in the future, I will always take care of you. That will never change regardless of anything else. Besides, weren’t you the one who told me not so long ago that you’re pragmatic and you aren’t going to worry about something that may or may not happen?”

I pout at him. “You know it’s quite rude to throw my own words back in my face.”

He loses his smile and his expression turns serious. “This is the only way to protect you, Sorcha.”

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