Chapter 9
NINE
ALEX
One consequence of impulsively acquiring a pet that I hadn’t considered was that I couldn’t just leave town on a whim. A week had passed since the launch party at the pub. We’d made good strides on the tear-out at our building, and my business partners had disappeared into nature to do some preliminary scouting for adventure opportunities in the area. Under normal circumstances, I’d have joined them, but I couldn’t just leave Saffron. I didn’t even leave her at home most workdays because I didn’t want her to feel abandoned. She was content to hang out in my pocket, so she went more or less everywhere with me. Callum and Finn teased me mercilessly, especially as I’d ordered a folding kitty play pen to keep her corralled while we did heavier labor. But I’d caught them giving her wee head a scratch when they thought I wasn’t looking.
“I’m crawling the walls, wee one. Ewan and Isobel are off to celebrate their engagement before they meet up with the rest of her crew to start recording the next album. Finn and Callum are off camping. It’s just you and me here for the weekend. Why don’t we go for a walk?”
I swished the feather on a stick that seemed to be Saffron’s favorite toy, trying to entice her to come out from where she’d hidden in the corner past the bookcase. Her eyes gleamed, but she didn’t move. She’d only just been allowed free roam of the flat a couple of days ago, and I suspected she was still intimidated by the space. I tried jiggling the bag of her favorite treats, certain that would lure her out. But she only meowed as if insulted by the offer.
“I’ll go by Village Chippy,” I sing-songed. Then I thought better of it. She was still so young. Probably even a wee bit of fried fish would make her sick. Best not risk needing an emergency vet visit with Dr. Saoirse on the weekend.
“Fine. I’m going for a walk. I suppose you’ll be all right here on your own for a while. Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.”
I made a bit of a production of putting on my shoes and gathering my keys and wallet. All the things that would signal I was leaving and her chariot in my vest was waiting. When she still didn’t come out, I was ridiculously disappointed.
“I’ll be back.” Before I could talk myself out of leaving on account of the cat, I stepped out and locked my door. Rescuing her was one thing. Becoming a hermit because of her was another.
With the postcard-perfect autumn weather, I expected the high street to be bustling, but I saw only a handful of people out. Perhaps most of the villagers had taken a page out of my partners’ books and gotten out for some hill walking. It was a good day for exploring. I might not be able to go far without my little co-pilot, but I could check out more of the village proper. Since I’d gotten here, I’d seen little but work, the pub, my flat, and the market. Admittedly, some of that had been in an effort to avoid Ciara. I hadn’t forgotten her order to stay the hell away. Though it went against every instinct I possessed, I was doing my very best to honor that request. But I did live here now, so it was time I expanded my horizons. Maybe I would stop by Village Chippy for a late lunch and find a park bench or somewhere to eat it.
I spotted the man first, clearly invading the personal space of some lass down in front of the market. Even from here, I could read the pressure in his posture and the stiffness in hers. I’d picked up my pace and made it another dozen steps closer before I realized that the woman was Ciara. I hesitated, wondering if I was reading the situation wrong. Maybe this was some new guy in her life. Ignoring the way my gut curdled at that idea, I took another few steps forward, debating whether I ought to cross the street. Then I watched the guy reach out, as if to touch her. Ciara backed up, straight into the side of the car. Trapped.
Whoever this wanker was, his advances were unwelcome. She and I could sort out our issues later. I was already hurrying in their direction when she saw me and called out, “Hey, Professor.”
It was a callback to our past. A reminder of another time when she’d been in a similar situation with a guy who wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I’d stepped in pretending to be her boyfriend. I could only assume from her use of the nickname that she’d prefer that sort of intervention to my physically hauling the guy off her and beating him to a bloody pulp.
Fine. I wasn’t fussy.
Sliding easily into character, I closed the last of the distance. “There you are.” As if it were as natural as breathing, I slid an arm around her, pulling her against my side. The stiffness I’d seen from meters away relaxed, and she melted into me in relief. For a moment, all I could register was the perfect way she fit and how something inside me finally unlocked at the contact.
“Who the hell are you?”
Adopting a mild expression, I turned toward the other guy. He stood on the pavement, all puffed up like a rooster, his stance aggressive.
Sliding my hand down, I curved my fingers over the perfection that was Ciara’s hip. “The boyfriend.”
“You are not.”
This twat reeked of entitlement, as if I’d just laid claim to his favorite toy. It made me want to drive my fist into his face. As I didn’t think Ciara would appreciate that, I drove in a weapon of a different sort.
“I assure you I am. Isn’t that right, Hellcat?” My tone dripped with familiar intimacy. Because she had been a wee hellcat in bed, and those memories had gotten me through countless lonely nights.
Riding on memory, I shifted her around to face me, making no effort to hide how much I still wanted her. If I’d seen alarm or pain or worry, I wouldn’t have done it. But what I saw reflected in those big blue eyes was the same wanting that was burning me alive. So I did the most inadvisable thing possible.
I kissed her.
I expected hesitation or some stiffness, though that would have blown this entire farce. Instead, her hands curled into my jacket, and she rose to her toes to press closer. I wrapped my arms around her, angling my head to take the kiss deeper, drinking in the taste of her like a man dying of thirst. The now and the then warred in my brain until the only clear thought left was a resounding Mine.
Dimly, I was aware of the other guy stalking away, but I didn’t want to stop. Because after all the distance, all the antipathy, this felt good and right and perfect. But eventually, I forced myself to lift my head. Her mouth, that lovely, sassy mouth, was swollen and pink from mine, and her eyes were just a little blurred.
“Is he gone?”
“Aye. He walked away a few minutes ago.” Shaking off the lust, I focused on the important thing. “Are you okay?” Clearly, that guy had been hassling her. I wanted to ask a million and one questions about who he was.
But whatever spell we’d temporarily been under had broken. Ciara stepped away, releasing her grip on my coat. “Yes. I’ve got to get back to work.”
With jerky movements, she stepped to her car.
“Ciara.”
She didn’t even look back, just yanked the door open. At the last second, she deigned to glance over her shoulder. “Thank you for the rescue. This doesn’t change anything. I still hate you for what you did.”
Without another word, she got into the car and drove away.
I recognized a retreat when I saw one.
It was instinct and training that led me to analyze every situation for vulnerabilities that could be exploited. I understood that the harsh words were meant to put us back into the boxes she’d assigned. But regardless of how it had started, that kiss hadn’t been an act. She was still attracted to me, and God knew, I still wanted her with every fiber of my being. Maybe… Maybe there was some opening here.
Because her continued refrain that she hated me was starting to feel like the lady doth protest too much.