Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
H ow to explain the weirdness with Aidan…
It was like this instant soul-deep connection she’d experienced was a magnet that only one person felt.
And she was so surprised at the intensity of the draw of him she would do all she could to inch away.
Even though that very intensity was also powerful enough at times to overcome her hesitations and let herself relax around him, like she did with her too-frequent truth spills, like she’d shared before.
He was a guest! She wasn’t supposed to be airing the family’s financial laundry for him to sniff at. Though he hadn’t seemed to turn up his nose, more like he was surprised at just how much it cost to keep the castle roof doing what it ought. Which was fair enough. That sum had shocked them all.
She peeked at him, huddled under the umbrella as they passed the golf course’s eighth green.
He glanced across, and she instantly averted her gaze, shrinking into the hood of her raincoat.
She was pretty sure she’d snagged her hair on the zipper, which would make it fun to extract when they got back.
They passed the base of another oak, and he chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s not funny so much as kind of cute.”
“What is?” Her tone held defensiveness, she knew. But exposing too much before made her feel extra antsy now. And she really didn’t want to be patronised. Especially by him.
He pointed to a fairy house, one that she and Fiona and Aisling had set up years ago. “How many of these are there?”
She thought back to the walking trails map she’d helped design. “Ten, I think.”
“It’s sweet.”
Okay, sweet sounded better than cute, a word she’d always thought had an air of dismissiveness about it. “We set it up for the children who visit.”
“I bet they love it.” He glanced across at her again.
She offered a wry smile. “We might not have leprechauns but we do have fairies.”
He chuckled. “And we have bunyips and drop bears.”
“Really?”
As he told her about some of the Australian bush legends, she again found herself drawn to his easy manner. The way he could laugh at himself, his self-deprecation felt so familiar, his story-telling curling around her heart as much as his accent.
The hotel’s lights were aglow, drawing them like a beacon. It was technically not even twilight, but it felt much later, the rain and cloud and sea mist dimming the light.
She was laughing at another of his funny stories when they entered the hotel foyer, the sound bouncing off the flagstones and drawing Aisling’s gaze from where she stood behind the registration desk.
“Well, look what the guest dragged in.” She smirked.
Rory mimed zipped lips, which drew her sister’s giggle. Child.
Aidan turned to Rory. “Thanks again for coming to my rescue.” He handed her the umbrella.
She took it, her fingers grazing his. Energy zapped between them.
He seemed to recognise it too. “Whoa. Feel that?”
She nodded, unable to speak.
“Must be static electricity or something.”
Or something, perhaps. Like attraction. On her side, anyway.
She ducked her head, unable to look at her sister who was quietly sniggering away, as if well and truly aware of what was floating through Rory’s mind.
She slipped off her hood, but it tugged at her hair, refusing to release.
Darn, just like she’d suspected her hair was caught in the zip. She tugged harder. “Ow.”
Aidan glanced at her. “Are you stuck?”
“I’ll be fine.” Yet her tugs still refused her hair to release.
“Here, let me.”
He moved closer, standing beside her, his scent of sea-salt and spice as potent to her senses as the scent of coffee in the morning, as he gently worked the zip, a quick peek revealing his brow furrowed in concentration.
“I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asked softly.
“No,” she breathed, like a star-struck teen.
Her cheeks were probably getting close to her hair colour, judging from their heat. No way would she glance at her sister, who might as well get some popcorn for the show.
She closed her eyes as he worked, willing herself to not sway towards him, forcing herself to take shallow breaths and not give in to the temptation to inhale his scent deeply.
This man was their guest. He was Australian. She might feel this weird sense of attraction around him, but she didn’t need to give into it. She was a grown woman, not a child at the mercy of every emotion or feeling.
He tugged one more time. “There. I think we got it.”
She bent her head and yes, sure enough, her hair was released. She shoved a hand through the strands. Yes, all good. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.” His smile was lop-sided. “And you’ll be glad to know it’s not even too frizzy.”
“That is a weight off my mind.”
He chuckled, then shifted away, nodding to Aisling. “What time is check out tomorrow?”
He was leaving? “Check out?” Rory murmured. Then inwardly winced. She hated hearing that note of disappointment in her voice.
He glanced at her. “I only booked for two nights, remember?”
She pressed her lips together. Finally looked at her sister, whose eyebrows had arched.
Aisling seemed to be trying to communicate something with her eyes, her look as piercing as Aidan’s Superman-blue gaze could be. But for all her younger sister’s ability to read Rory’s mind, she lacked the same with her sister.
Finally Aisling sighed. “Well, may I ask if you have accommodation booked somewhere else?”
He shrugged. “I hadn’t planned anything more. I’m here for a week before I go see a friend in Dublin. So I’d be happy with the local pub.” He slid Rory a look. “I heard they have a good pie and Guinness deal there.”
Her mouth opened then closed. No, she deserved that.
“Oh, you don’t want to stay there,” Aisling scoffed. “No, in that case, you may want to consider our five-night special. That way you don’t need to swap rooms, especially if you’re staying in the area.” Aisling sent Rory a sly wink.
No. No, no . She scowled at her sister. Aisling was not going to set her up.
Aidan glanced at Rory which instantly saw her scowl fall away. “Well, maybe. If it’s not too much. I still have some things I’d like to do here.”
Her heartbeat picked up tempo. But she would not ask what he still wanted to do.
“Well, this is our shoulder season, so you’ll find that prices are far more reasonable now, especially with our special. In fact, we can probably work out a deal that will deduct what has already been spent. Give me a moment.”
As Aisling returned to tap-tapping on the computer, and Rory mentally calculated what the rate should be, Aidan turned to her. All mathematical calculations disappeared at his small smile.
“What is it?” she murmured.
“I appreciate this. You two certainly go out of your way to look after your guests.”
Aisling peeked at Rory, her smirk saying exactly what kinds of guests would receive such special treatment. The ones who displayed their own kindness were far more likely to receive such attention than the arrogant, dismissive or complainers. And not just the handsome ones, either.
Aisling finally told him a price which he agreed to, and he seemed surprised when she then told him breakfast was included in that price.
“Well, thanks. Book me in.” He glanced at Rory.
She was again tempted to ask what things he still wanted to do here, but she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t . She—
“So that’s all fixed up now,” Aisling said, drawing Aidan’s attention back to herself. “Now that leaves you plenty of time to do all those things you still wanted to do.” Her raised eyebrows were an obvious invitation for him to share.
He shifted. “I am trying to trace some family stuff.”
Of course he was. Regret at her earlier comments bubbled up again.
“Shoot, that reminds me.” He slapped his jeans’ back pockets, pulled out his phone. Winced. “I should go. I promised Mary I’d meet her for this Story Circle thing. She’d said she could help me.”
“Oh, if you want someone to help, Rory could probably take you there.”
Rory widened her eyes at Aisling and subtly shook her head.
Right at the time he shifted to glance at her. His face fell. “That’s okay. You’re probably busy.”
“Nope, she’s not. She’s one hundred percent available, aren’t you Rory?” Aisling insisted.
“Hey, it’s fine. I don’t want you to feel like you’ve been put on the spot like this,” Aidan assured.
She withheld a sigh. Shot her sister a micro-glare, then glanced back at their guest. “It’s no trouble at all. I’d be happy to take you.” Because she’d then perhaps find out more about this man and what he was doing here. Even if she’d have to guard her heart—and face—from getting carried away.
“Really?” His voice was soft. Then, as she nodded, he smiled. “That would be great.”
No, she thought as she watched him hurry up the stairs to change his muddied clothes, what would be great would be surviving tonight with her heart intact.
“You can now thank me,” Aisling said.
Rory spun to face her. “What was that? You might as well have picked me up and flung me at his head.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you don’t like the man.”
“I don’t like the man,” she snapped, hoping her voice wouldn’t echo off the walls and bounce up the stairs.
“Yes you do. I can see it. You’ve got the same look as Colin did when he first told us about Kara.”
Oh, she wished she didn’t have a face that gave away her heart like this!
“Okay, fine. I think he’s nice.”
“And very handsome.” Aisling fanned herself.
“And very handsome,” she mumbled. “But he’s a guest. He lives in Australia. So already I can see a lot of problems there.”
“Why, because he lives in Australia? I have to say I don’t see too many problems with that. Imagine all that sunshine, and seeing kangaroos and koalas, and those beaches, and—”
“Well maybe you should be the one throwing yourself at him then,” she snipped.
“Ah, but I could never live with myself, knowing you had first dibs.”
“He’s not the front seat of a car. He’s a man.”
“He certainly is,” Aisling purred.