Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
“C an you tell me why that man was wearing your jacket?”
Rory sighed. She should’ve known her eagle-eyed sister would demand the truth. “Look, he was shivering, his lips were almost blue, and I couldn’t let him die of the cold.” As it was he’d be lucky to not catch a cold. Or influenza.
“Well he certainly wouldn’t have been shivering when he returned to his room.” Aisling smirked.
“Because you cranked the heat all the way up to maximum, right?”
Aisling giggled. “You told me to make it warmer.”
“But not to a sauna degree.”
“Well, he won’t complain about being cold now.”
That was for sure. Especially if he took her advice and had a bath.
Ugh. She shuddered. She was not thinking about him. “Look, I should probably have a shower too.”
“I’ll make you a hot chocolate.”
“Could… could you make one for him too?”
Aisling’s eyebrows rose. “Well, well, well. Like that, is it?”
“No. He might appreciate it, that’s all.”
“Yeah, after what his actions put you through, I don’t know if I’m feeling that inclined to help the man out.”
“Him losing the paddle wasn’t intentional.”
Her sister’s lips pursed, then she huffed. “Fine. But I’ll leave it at his door. I don’t want to go in there and have another of those moments like at the spa.”
Good.
The fierceness of her internal reply shocked her.
Was she really feeling jealous about her sister potentially seeing him?
This was crazy. Except… something about his vulnerability, his humility, had touched her.
He hadn’t stopped thanking her, showing his appreciation.
And there had been something soft and appealing in his eyes when he’d spoken to her earlier.
Something that washed away so much of the hurt from before and made her feel like there was a way of recalibrating this relationship and forging a new way forward.
And she wanted him to do that with her, not Aisling.
“What on earth was he doing out there at that time, anyway?” Aisling wondered aloud.
“I don’t know. But I do know that I need a shower.” She shivered, and not just for effect.
“Fine, go get clean and warm, and I’ll make you both a hot chocolate. And I promise not to lace his with rat poison.”
“Thank you.”
Her sister blew her a kiss and left Rory to the delights of a hot shower. And while she’d love nothing more than to hop into cosy pyjamas, she figured she might need to talk to some people—talk to a particular person—before the sun went down.
What was that verse about not letting the sun go down on her wrath? Grace said she probably needed to practice what was preached.
An hour later, washed, warm, and hugged by her worried mother, she was finally released to return downstairs to her post at the reception desk.
It seemed that word had passed around about her afternoon’s exploits, and she wondered how Aidan must be feeling.
For it was one thing to be considered the heroine in the scenario, but was probably quite another to feel like the victim.
And while she was partly inclined to follow Aisling’s lead in blaming him, another part of her was conscious that the way she’d treated him before wasn’t exactly God-honouring. She wanted to do better than before.
“Here you are.” Aisling held a tray of hot chocolates. Two of them. “Now where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“You haven’t called him to check he’s okay?”
“No. He’s an adult. And I’m not responsible for him.”
“I think you’ll find that as the manager for the hotel you are.” Aisling winked.
Her cheeks grew hot. “Look, I was simply concerned about him. It doesn’t mean anything else.”
A cleared throat drew their attention to the stairs. Where the subject of their conversation stood, dressed in jeans, holding her jacket, and wearing a dark green cardigan that looked soft and warm, and did wonders for his eyes.
“Am I interrupting?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
Oh, why did she still have this fluttery feeling? It didn’t seem to matter how much she’d tried to bury it under layers of resentment, he still caused warming sensations to ripple through her chest. She ducked her head.
“You look a little warmer now,” Aisling said with a straight face.
“Much warmer, thank you.”
“Actually, I have two hot chocolates here. Are you a hot chocolate fan by any chance?” she asked him.
“I, uh…” He glanced at Rory.
“The other one is for her. You know, today’s hero.” Aisling offered a smile as sweet as Irish cream. She turned to Rory. “Now you two better go and enjoy these while they’re still hot, okay?” She placed the tray on the reception desk, then booted Rory from her chair. “Go on. I’ve got this.”
“But—”
“Go!”
At that moment, the door opened and two guests appeared.
The awkwardness she already felt was only going to increase with the drinks taking centre stage on the reception desk, so she picked up the tray and moved to the adjoining lounge.
A glance behind showed that Aidan followed.
She placed the tray down on the coffee table between two armchairs.
The same armchair in which she’d found him asleep on that first day.
“You can take your drink elsewhere, if you like.”
“Do you want me to go somewhere else?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I’m okay.”
“Then I’m okay too. I would like the chance to talk to you some more.”
Her brows arched. “About why you felt a sudden need to sail away?”
“Like the Orinoco flow?” His lips twisted.
“You know Enya?” Wow.
“My grandmother is more the fan than I am,” he said.
“Shame. I was about to give you bonus points for Irish musician appreciation.”
“You still can. I’m a fan of U2.”
“As anyone who claims an ounce of Irish heritage should be.”
He smiled. “And I don’t mind some Pogues and Cranberries. Oh, and Van Morrison.”
She sipped her drink. Maybe it was sweetening her up because she was finding the man more attractive the longer he spoke. “So you’re a little bit old school, huh?”
“My sister would say a lot.”
“What’s your sister’s name?”
“Catrina. She’s older than me, and the mother of two. Keira, the little girl I bought the book for, and Douglas, a baby boy.”
“And you’re the doting uncle?”
“I try to be.”
She nodded, took another sip of creamy chocolate. The more he spoke the more interesting he was becoming.
“Keira is a ballet dancer, so I attended her ballet concert last year.”
“Very doting of you. Are you telling me this to try to impress me?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“Is it working?”
She lifted her glass, hiding her smile. She had no intention to let him know just how much it was working.
“Look, I wanted to say again how sorry I am for what happened before.”
Here they went again. She settled back in her chair, her gaze flicking to the window where the sea sparkled, without a hint of the danger they’d faced before.
It was funny how something that looked so calm could hold such a treacherous undertow.
Like some people. She didn’t want to get dragged in by someone’s outward appearance only to be overwhelmed by their real character later.
She’d been burned before. Maybe that’s what had happened to Fiona. Lord, be with her.
She returned her attention to him. “So what exactly did happen before?”
He sighed. “I wanted to see the ruined castle from the water, take some photos for my Gran, so I paddled out there. Only I didn’t realise how far it was. And I know it won’t make me seem very tough, but I got a little too tired too quickly. Then I lost my paddle, and, yeah.”
“And yeah,” she murmured.
“Then I started drifting, and you’ve got no idea how much of a fool I felt like. And still feel like, actually.”
She was getting some idea.
“And I tried to get someone’s attention, and they thought I was waving. Then my phone didn’t work, and so I was praying for God to save me, then you came along.”
“It was my sister who first noticed you,” she admitted.
“Really? I thought she didn’t like me.”
“That doesn’t mean she’d willingly watch someone drown. Besides, it’s not you so much as she—we—don’t like what you were trying to do regarding the castle,” she corrected.
He winced. “I know that I’m not in any position to make demands, but I would really like to not talk about that tonight.”
“You want to talk about that tomorrow?”
“I’d rather talk about other things with you.”
Her heart pitter-pattered. “Like what?”
“Like what kind of music you like to listen to.”
She blinked. “Why?”
“Because I want to get to know you.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know, but I feel this sense of connection, and I know that some of what I’ve done has probably not made you feel the same way, but I’d still like to get to know you more.”
He’d felt that sense of connection too?
“I’d like to be friends.”
Oh. Friends. Her stomach twisted with disappointment. She hauled her gaze away to look out at the view.
“Or maybe one day more than friends.”
Her eyes swung back to his. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, no, asking really, who are some of your favourite musicians? I think knowing this helps you know if there is a real sense of compatibility or not.”
Compatibility? He seemed to be leaping ahead of where she thought this was at. “Well, in that case, it may surprise you to learn that I quite like U2 too.”
“You like me?”
“I like U2.”
He laughed, the sound warm and comforting, like brown sugar on porridge in the morning.
Then she heard what she’d said. “I think for a man who nearly floated away to Greenland that you should be a little more careful in what you say.”
“I think for a woman who rescued a man who almost floated away to Greenland that you should be a little more forgiving.”
“I’m very forgiving, thank you.”
He smiled. “So, favourite song of theirs. Don’t think, just say.”
“Beautiful Day.”
He nodded. “This may surprise you, but mine is a little older than that.”
“Let me guess: I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.”
“You haven’t?”