57. Claddagh
57
CLADDAGH
RORY
M arried.
I stare at the ring on my finger as miles of endless trees pass by us. I can’t believe I’m married. We left the city immediately following the ceremony, all of us—but in different directions. Aidan and I drive alone—in deafening silence.
It’s possible he’s sensing my mood. It’s not exactly like I’m trying to hide it… Sitting in the front seat of the SUV with my arms crossed, staring sullenly out the window.
After putting on a brave face for the O’Rourkes, their Irish priest, and myself, I don’t have it in me.Emotionally drained, I sit curled up in my seat, spinning the white gold ring on my finger, chewing my bottom lip. I’m not sure what surprised me more, that Aidan could produce a ring with less than two hours’ notice, or how much I’d like it.
A crowned heart, held by two hands.
Married.
The wedding was hours and miles ago. It all happened so fast, it doesn’t even feel real.
Almost immediately following the ceremony, the Irish got word the Italians had attacked one of their warehouses, firing the first shots of the war that’s been brewing for months. Koen ordered Aidan and me out of the city until things died down. Alexei and Reagan are somewhere in another car.I don’t envy him. Reagan was not too keen on the idea of lockdown.
Until we were clear of the city, and Aidan was certain we weren’t followed, we had one of Aidan’s men tailing us.
Now we’re alone.
Koen pushed us out of the loft so fast I’m still wearing the dress Reagan insisted on giving me. The matching heels had been only a smidge too small. I kick them off onto the SUV’s floor and pull my legs back up and wrap Aidan’s suit jacket tighter around me.
“Cold?”
My head whips in Aidan’s direction at the sound of his voice. Having given me his jacket, he’s loosened his collar and tie. I squirm in my seat. We’ve been in this car alone together for hours, so why do I suddenly feel nervous?
Aidan reaches for the temperature controls, raising the heat inside the vehicle.
“N-no. Just getting comfortable…” I blurt out.
“We’re almost there.” Aidan turns his eyes back to the road.
“And where is there exactly?” I finally gathered the nerve to ask the question I’ve been milling over since we left Boston.
A small smile appears on Aidan’s face, and I ignore the way it makes my heart flip flop. “The cabin.”
I stare at him, waiting for more of an explanation, but it never comes.
It makes sense a few seconds later when Aidan pulls off the curvy country road and onto a dirt one. After several minutes of rough travel, lights come into view. I feel relief at the sight of them. I don’t think Aidan will hurt me, but I still haven’t entirely ruled out the possibility. He did threaten my life only a few short weeks ago, after all….
My jaw drops slightly at the sight of the wooden cabin sitting in front of an endlessly black expanse. Even in the dark of the night, it’s beautiful. A soft orange glow seeps out from behind the closed curtains.
When the car comes to a stop, I step out and stare out across the dark void behind the cabin, my breath visible in the freezing air. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, and the frozen water comes into focus, barely lit by the tiny crescent moon in the sky tonight.
“The lake,” Aidan explains, following my gaze.
“Right.” My mood darkens at the sight of the ice.
“I picked the cabin because I thought if we stayed here, you could at least still train…”
I don’t look at him—I can’t. I keep my eyes out on the lake. “I’m tired,” I say finally, as I shift uncomfortably on my bare feet, having abandoned Reagan’s heels in the car.
Aidan’s quiet for a half a beat, but then I hear the crunch of gravel under his boots. “This way.”
I follow. He pauses for a moment and I half worry he’s about to scoop me up, but I rush past him, doing my best not to wince at the sharp gravel stones stabbing my feet.
I let out a sigh of relief when I reach the soft wood of the porch, waiting for Aidan to unlock the cabin door. The lock clicks and the door swings open. I’ve barely taken a step toward it before I feel his arms around me. And then my feet are off the ground as he swings me up, carrying me across the threshold.
Irritation finally snaps the last thread of my patience, and I kick my feet, punching his chest with my fists. “Put. Me. Down,” I demand.
My struggling barely fazes him, but once safely inside, Aidan kicks the door shut with his boot and sets me gently back on my feet.
“What the hell?” I hiss at him.
He just shrugs, heading toward what looks to be the kitchen. “It’s tradition, isn’t it? Seemed like bad luck not to?—”
I blink at him.
“You know?”
“No, I don’t know,” I snap. Though he might have a point—I don’t need any more bad luck than I already have.
The O’Rourke cabin is surprisingly warm and welcoming. Similar to the loft the siblings share back in the city, it’s tastefully decorated, but not cold like you would expect from a family in their line of business. Designed for comfort. Someone’s come ahead of us and already lit the hearth. The crackling fire is the only sound in the entire place while I glare at Aidan moving around the kitchen.
The initial nerves I felt about being alone with Aidan have only intensified now that we’re here . Uncertain of his expectations . It’s our wedding night, but does it still count if it’s a fake wedding? I know we’ve already slept together once, but that was before .
Before the vows and my newfound status as his wife .
I’m not unaware of how alone we are. My initial nervousness is only intensified now that we’ve reached our destination.
The anticipation of what might be expected tonight is causing my stomach to knot up with pressure. I’m on edge, wound so tight I’m seconds from spiraling—and spiraling hard.
“Hungry?” I tear my gaze away from the fire I’d lost myself in to find Aidan pulling open the refrigerator. A quick view of the open fridge shows someone has also been by to stock up the food.
“No,” I lie. Or maybe I’m telling the truth. I haven’t eaten in forever, but I don’t think I could eat even if I wanted to right now. “Where can I—” I trail off when I accidentally meet the green of Aidan’s eyes watching from across the room. “—sleep?” I finish, desperately keeping myself from chewing my lip, my anxiety eating me alive.
“Upstairs,” Aidan replies calmly, eyeing me as if I’m a frightened deer who is seconds from bolting. “First door on the left.”He lifts his hand toward a stairway tucked into the corner of the house.
I’m halfway to the stairs before I remind myself to slow my pace. I linger awkwardly on the landing, turning slowly back… “And you’ll?—”
“First door on the right.”
I release a breath, not having realized I’d been holding it.
“If you need anything,” he nods slowly, unspoken words written in his eyes.
“Ok.” I turn back to the stairs. “Thanks,” I add as an afterthought.
I climb slowly, unsure about what, or who, might be upstairs and also listening to the sound of Aidan in the kitchen to ensure he isn’t following me.
Ducking into the room, I close and lock the door before pacing the small space for several minutes, debating how much noise dragging the heavy-looking dresser in front of the door might make. Doubtful I even have the energy required to move it, I sigh, leaving the dresser alone before stripping down to my underwear and climbing into the soft bed. Leaving the shimmery silver dress in a pile on the floor.If Aidan wants in—he’s getting in, dresser or not. The man throws pro hockey players into the boards for a living.
As exhausted as I am, I toss and turn, too keyed up to sleep. Huddled under the thick, white comforter, feeling naked and exposed in only my underwear. Alone with my thoughts in the early hours of the morning has me questioning my decision to trust Aidan.
We’re alone. Not even his brothers are here… and I’m terrified Aidan might change his mind and charge through that door, insistent on claiming his right as my husband , but it never opens.
He never comes.