36. Summer
Chapter 36
Summer
K ieran doesn’t say much on the way home after lunch. Cormac got a ride home with Finn, so I’m up front with Kieran and Aoife is passed out in the back seat. She fell asleep as soon as we got into the car, and because of the short drive home, Kieran decided to drive around the block a few times.
He’s silent. There’s no radio on. Only the tiny snores of Aoife in the back seat prickle through the silence.
I’m not sure if he’s upset about me wanting to go to New York or not. He didn’t seem mad. I’m slightly shocked he’s not putting up more of a fight to let me go. I know my father wouldn’t have let my mother travel without him. But comparing Kieran to my father isn’t fair. He’s been kind and thoughtful, putting my needs right up there with his organization.
Yet again, I try to draw parallels between them both, and I can’t. Kieran is so different from what I thought any boss would be.
I’m looking forward to seeing my sister after so long, and finally meeting the boys in person. However, when I look back at Aoife and glance over at Kieran’s stoic expression, my heart hurts. Leaving them, if only for a minute, feels wrong.
I never wanted this life, but now I can’t imagine not having it. I shiver at the thought.
“Ye cold?” Kieran’s voice croaks.
“No, not at all.” I smile at him, and he holds my gaze as long as he can before turning back to the road. This man. He always seems to want to take care of me.
I try to ditch the thoughts that come next, but I can’t. Does he see me as someone who could stand with him? Or am I another responsibility to him? I’m paralyzed by the questions.
“Does it bother you that you had to help me?” I ask. It sort of bursts out of my mouth, and I mentally smack myself.
Kieran’s head swivels over to me, a giant V etched into his brow. “What? No. Why would ye ask that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of me or be responsible for me.”
“Summer, ye’ve been takin’ care of yerself for seven years. I know for a fact ye don’t need anyone to take care of ya. But I do want to. I’d like to take as much of the burden ye’re carrying, if ye’ll let me.”
I sigh, leaning my head back against the cool seat. “You make me want to stay.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Kieran stiffens. “Ye can stay as long as ye want.”
I let out a nervous chuckle. “Forever?” I’m not sure why I say it. Perhaps I want to know if he can see that with someone like me. Can I see that with him?
“Especially forever.” Kieran’s voice shakes with emotion, and his expression is so rattling. All the emotion in it. I’m falling for him, I realize. I must be. I legit agonize over the pained expression on his face.
When we finally pull into the driveway, Aoife is still sleeping, so Kieran reaches in the back seat to pull her out while I gather the glittery shoes she kicked off at the restaurant and follow him as he carries her inside and up the stairs.
He lays her down in her bed for a nap, and I tuck her shoes away in her closet. When I turn back around, Kieran is staring down at Aoife’s sleeping form. Her light orange dress that reminds me of a creamsicle is twisted around her middle, and her long hair is messy around her head. He smiles at her as I approach him.
“She’s me world,” he seems to say out of nowhere.
“I know.” I reach down and move some blonde off to the side. She wiggles for a minute and then rolls over to her side. “I’m going to go change out of this dress.”
I go to move, but Kieran grabs my hand. As I study him, his lips part, then press together as if holding in unspoken words. The corners of his mouth droop, and his whole demeanor takes on a quiet yearning that’s palpable. He probes the ring on my finger again.
“Ye both are.”
Oh no. I can see it. The cliff I’m barreling toward. But it doesn’t matter, not when he wraps me in a hug and allows me to press my nose to his chest, inhaling him. He makes me feel safe. I’m heard with him. I realize in that moment the desire to run isn’t there anymore.
He lets me go and moves to lie down with Aoife on her bed, while I slip away to my room. I stay there, buried in my bed for the rest of the day.
* * *
“Marshmallows?” I ask.
“Check,” Aoife says, pointing to the bag on the counter. I snatch them up and put them on the round serving tray.
“Graham crackers?”
“Yes. Check.” Aoife picks up the box and sets it on the tray. She’s kneeling on the stool eager for our s’more night. Several weeks ago, when we were at lunch at O’Brien’s after church, she told me one of her favorite things about warmer weather was getting to have a fire in the patio firepit and roast marshmallows.
Since Allie is visiting family this weekend, I picked up Aoife from school, and Finn drove us to the store to gather everything we need. When Kieran gets home, we’ll surprise him with a s’mores night.
It’s Friday, and I know most Fridays he tries to be home to spend time with Aoife, and hopefully, me at this point.
Last Friday, he came home and gathered us both up to take us to the yacht. He’d hired someone who does rolled ice cream and the three of us ate our ice cream and watched the sunset over the marina. Throughout the evening, Kieran offered me frequent touches. He stroked my thighs, rubbed my back when I swallowed half a frozen strawberry, and stared longingly at me all night. When we got home, while Allie was getting Aoife ready for bed, I half expected him to drag me into his bedroom. I wanted him to. Instead, he said goodnight to Aoife and kissed me goodnight as well.
I tossed and turned all night, fighting the urge to jump him in his bed. I don’t know what’s happening to me. He can’t keep doing this to me. His gentle touches twist my insides into a ball of need and want. Quite frankly, I’m losing my mind.
Kieran and Nik talked several nights ago, and Licon pulled a guard from rotation to drive me to New York for the coming week. I leave on Monday, and while I’m happy to go, part of me is anxious about it. I don’t want to leave Aoife, and I don’t want to leave him. Four days, I say to myself. It’s only four days.
“What about the chocolate?” Aoife says.
“Right here.” I hold up the package of Hershey chocolate bars and open it fanning them out over the tray.
Aoife helps me in the kitchen as we prepare the snack tray for dinner. Grapes, cut up apples, cheese, crackers, some turkey sausage. It’s simple, but perfect to bring out on the patio. I cover the tray with plastic wrap and stick it in the fridge.
“Let’s go out and get the firepit ready. What do you say?”
“Yes!” Aoife jumps up and down shrieking. Goodness .
We move outside, and I’m grateful for the dryer weather as we work to load firewood into the firepit. I’ve been wanting to have a fire out here since the day I first visited the O’Donnell house. It’s gorgeous.
The pit is the centerpiece of the cobblestone patio and seamlessly blends into the coziness of the older home. It has all natural circular stones, carefully stacked. Earthy tones—muted grays, warm browns, and hints of rust complement the cobblestone driveway.
Allie added some plants now that the threat of frost has passed, and the potted ferns bring in some much-needed color.
I pull more pieces of wood from the woodpile framed by a black-iron stand. As dusk falls, lights pull into the driveway, and Kieran’s Audi comes into view. Aoife, who’s been drawing with chalk, runs over to his car as he emerges. He bends down, scooping her up into a firm hug.
He’s wearing his Armani suit today, and I wonder what he had going on at work to justify that. It hugs him in all the right places and the tingling response he provokes in me starts at my toes and spreads warmth all the way up to my cheeks.
Holding Aoife, he walks toward me, a smile on his face. His stubble is freshly trimmed, making his jaw seem more severe. As he nears, the intensity in his features makes me weak in the knees.
“What ye doing?”
“A s’more night!” Aoife wiggles until Kieran puts her down. “We have snacks, too!”
“Sounds good. What can I do to help?” he asks.
“Just need to light the fire.” More like light my fire. Jeez.
I blush at my own thoughts, and Kieran tilts his head taking me in. He reaches for my shirt, a plain blue crew neck, and tugs at it, pulling me into him. When he kisses the top of my forehead, I press farther into him.
“Let me change and I’ll get it lit.”
While Kieran is changing, Aoife and I carry out the trays of food, propping them up on the stone bench circling the firepit. He emerges five minutes later in dark jeans and gray V-neck and works to light the fire. It starts slowly, but soon the flames are dancing, casting a warm, flickering glow across the side of the house. The rugged cobblestone, crackling fire, and darkening night make it the perfect evening.
Aoife tells Kieran about her day in school, and while I miss teaching, having these moments with Aoife where I get to hear about her day from her perspective is special.
“Daddy, can I cut my hair?”
Kieran pops a grape in his mouth, considering. “Why do ye want to do that?”
Aoife looks at me and then back to Kieran. “I want to have hair like Summer. She’s so pretty. She looks like a model.”
I grimace at her words about being a model. I’d put so much emphasis on what I looked like when I was younger, what I could get out of looks. But people are so much more than that. It’s what they carry in their soul, how they treat others, or how they can make you feel seen—that’s where true beauty is.
“Ye’re beautiful just the way ye are, Aoife. But if ye truly want to cut yer hair, we can get it cut. Just do it because ye want to.”
She looks at me, eyes searching, and I smile, nodding to echo my agreement with her father’s words. “While there’s nothing wrong with being beautiful, your heart matters more, sweet girl. There was a time I didn’t know that, and I’m sad about that.”
“Being nice and kind is more important?” Aoife asks.
“One hundred percent.”
She beams and moves on quickly from her desire to cut her hair to something else entirely. I smile, and when Kieran catches my eye, he mouths, “Thank you.”
“Always,” I whisper back.
Kieran slides forward, pulling out the roasting sticks. “Who’s ready for a s’more?”
“Me!” Aoife says, hopping up to grab the marshmallows off the tray. “Can you tell me a story, Daddy?”
“Sure.” Kieran pokes a marshmallow onto the stick and hands it to Aoife. She sits, one hand holding on to it, the other propping her chin up as she rests her elbow on her thigh.
I lean back, tucking my legs up under the curved-back chair I’m seated in. I have to admit the idea of listening to Kieran’s voice tell a story has me giddy.
“Once upon a time,” he starts, and Aoife giggles. “There was a king who’d been happy with a girl, but she left him. The king thought he’d never be happy again until one day he began to have dreams. Dreams of a faceless woman who made him feel hope. He thought he was crazy at first; for how could a king hold out hope for a shadowy woman in his mind? But still he sought her out. He fell asleep whenever he could just to see her.
“Months and months later, the king received a letter from a woman telling him he’d been neglecting his kingdom. See, the king was so driven by his need to see the woman of his dreams, he’d let some of his responsibilities go.”
Unease prickles in my gut, and I pull my legs up to wrap my arms around them. Aoife pulls back her marshmallow and Kieran helps her slide it off onto her graham cracker square and chocolate.
Then he continues. “The townswoman confronted him. And through that, they got to know each other. The king began to forget more and more about the woman he so desperately tried to see in his dreams. In fact, his dreams began to morph. Instead of seeing the mystery woman every night, he dreamed of the woman from town. The king had fallen in love with her. But he was scared.”
Aoife gasps. “Scared? He’s a king!”
Kieran chuckles, glancing at me nervously. Pressure builds in my chest and prickles behind my eyelids, and I’m not sure when it happens, but a tear falls.
“Even kings get scared, Aoife. Ye see, the king was scared to love because he had tried once before, and it didn’t end well. He was worried that the woman, who’d helped him see what he was neglecting, would run and not want to be with him.”
I swallow the strangling emotion in my throat, resting my chin on my knee.
“What did he do?” Aoife asks.
“He pulled away from her. Even though that was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn’t know how to tell her he was in love with her.”
“That’s dumb,” Aoife says, and Kieran lets out one of his unencumbered laughs. I smile into my knees.
“Aye. The king was being dumb.” I glance up to see Kieran looking at me, and another tear falls down my cheek before I let out a disbelieving chuckle. My stomach roils in the best way, and my heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.
Aoife bites into her s’more, and the marshmallow bursts out from the sides and sticks into the corners of her mouth. The chocolate squishes out next, and I giggle, getting up to hand Aoife a napkin.
After she’s wiped her mouth, I move to return to my seat, but Kieran’s calloused hand shoots out and grabs mine, hauling me toward his lap. My jeans meet his and I sit propped on one of his meaty legs. He’s sturdy and warm, and with the mesmerizing fire, I fold into him, head resting on his chest.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so dumb,” he confides into my ear.
The thump, thump, thump of his heart grows faster as he strokes a tantalizing line up my back with a single digit.
I smile, nuzzling farther into him.
Another thirty minutes roll by as Aoife tells some stories of her own; about a troll princess who lives in a world of candy. With Skittle roads and a castle made of Twizzlers. Her imagination takes off, and by the time she’s done, she’s yawning and ready for bed.
I take her upstairs to give her a long bath and get her ready for bed before we read Goodnight Moon , twice, before she dozes off to sleep. Shutting her door, I go back down to the kitchen. Kieran cleans up the snack tray and then, grabbing a crystal tumbler from the cabinet, he pours himself a glass of whiskey.
“I left the s’more stuff out in case ye wanted one.”
I smile. “Thanks, I think I’ll go make one. What about you?”
He shakes his head and follows me back outside into the brisk night. The fire is lower now and the dark pours in over the patio. With the blazing stars visible, I sit back down and tilt my head back to stare.
“It’s such a great night for a fire.”
Kieran sits down next to me, poking a fluffy marshmallow onto the roasting stick. He hands it to me. “It is. Makes me excited for the summer.”
I can’t help the cheesy tease that comes out of my mouth. “You excited for me, Kieran?”
His head snaps to mine, and I laugh nervously. I’m not sure why I’m anxious. I can joke with Kieran, talk openly about Aoife and my past with him, but when it comes to my desire for him, I’m tongue-tied.
He licks his lips, and warmth sweeps through me. I focus on putting my stick near the coals of the fire and try not to flinch when he stands to stroll behind me. The callouses on his knuckles brush against the back of my neck and I gasp as he brushes my hair to the side to bring his mouth to my neck. With a soft press, he kisses me, dragging his lips up to nip my ear.
“Ye excite me, Summer.”
I fumble with my steel stick, almost dropping my marshmallow into the flames. Burn it all, I don’t care. I just don’t want him to stop. He drags in a lungful of air against my neck and comes to sit next to me.
“Careful. Looks like yer marshmallow is done.” I blink, noticing the gooey thing practically dripping off the stick and successfully puffy. I pull it back to blow on it, testing it with my fingers until it’s cool enough to touch.
With it in my hand, I hold it up to him. “Want some?”
The fire snaps and hisses as flames lick the wood in the pit, sending sparks into the night air while my question looms between us. The distant hum of traffic drowns out the gentle breeze that carries the smoky scent of the fire, and underneath it all, a soft quiet settles as I wait for him to answer me.
He reaches out to wrap his fingers around my wrist, bringing the marshmallow and my hand near his mouth. “Ye have no idea how bad.”
He opens his mouth while guiding my hand to place the dessert in his mouth. I stare as he devours it whole, and I can’t decide where to look. His lips. His jaw. I flick between both as he skims a swirling thumb over my wrist.
His throat works a swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before he brings my finger into his mouth, sucking and licking the remaining stickiness off. I can’t breathe while his tongue swirls and flicks alongside the subtle tug on my skin. I clench my thighs, wondering how such an act can be so deliciously provocative.
He moves on to the next and then the next—I gasp, and my eyelids flutter closed.
When the cool night air tickles my wet fingertips, my gaze pops open. He’s staring at me, leaning in. And I … I’m simmering despite the fire almost out.
A beat passes as we stare. Then, yanking me over him, he kisses me. The sweet taste of marshmallow mixed with the notes of whiskey on his breath intoxicates me. I climb over him, straddling his hips. His mouth opens instantly, and I move my tongue in, needing more. Both his hands cup my face, holding me in place, and when he kneads my flesh and nibbles my bottom lip, I moan into his mouth.
My hands find purchase in his hair, and I run them through it softly, gripping harder as he kisses me. I rock into him, and he shudders, finally moving his hands away from my face to land on my hips and pull me tighter against him.
I hiss at the feel of him.
I pride myself on the fact I didn’t need anyone for those seven years alone in Boston, but god, I need him now. I need him always.
Biting my lip, I try to keep the sounds threatening to escape my throat buried there. But when he trails his lips across my clavicle, I let out a whimpering moan, letting my head fall back and urging him on.
He chuckles, and the sound has me curling my toes. “That’s it, love. Let me hear ya.”
I reward his words with another groan, and he stands abruptly, taking me with him. His hands splay under my thighs as I wrap my legs around him. He kisses me as he walks to the back door of the kitchen, and without releasing me, he fumbles with the door handle. It opens, and once he’s through, he kicks it shut.
His skin is on fire as I let my hands roam under his shirt. Thick abs tighten as I drift over his muscles, stroking and touching as much as I can. Without stopping, he walks us up the stairs and straight to his bedroom. Once inside, he sets me down, then turns, quietly shutting and locking the door.
I spin, taking in the room. The space is fairly minimalist. A king bed with crisp white linens is flanked with sleek, dark nightstands, and there’s an en suite bathroom and walk-in closet. Both simple and organized.
I smile, then yelp as Kieran sweeps me off my feet and carries me to the bed. He lays me down, standing above me, warm yet dominating. And in this moment, I want him to dominate me.
Take me.
Use me.
The soft expression on his face begs me to trust him.
“Is this, okay?” he asks, pained. His stormy gaze snags on where my shirt has ridden up my stomach and he extends a single finger to trace circles there creating prickles of goose bumps in his wake. To my surprise, he kneels on the floor beside the bed, the old wood creaking beneath his knees, and he presses a reverent kiss over my belly button. My head falls to the side as he presses another kiss there.
“I need yer words, love.”
“Yes,” I whisper. Yes, yes, yes!
He stands, and I push up on my elbows to watch him strip off his shirt. He comes down on me, hands skimming up under my shirt and teasing me while I wrap my legs around his hips.
I can’t take this. Every touch is sending me into a spiral and I’m dizzy from it. “Please,” I murmur.
“Patience, love,” he says, breathing out a groan. “I’m going to savor every inch of ya.”
I let his words wash over me, and I let go, enjoying each exploring and tender touch. Instead of shying away, I lurch headfirst into this feeling. I run toward him in every way possible.
Being with Kieran makes those tortuous years of being alone in Boston or dealing with my family worth it. It makes me want this forever. It doesn’t matter that I don’t want this life, I want him. I will not run. He deserves happiness, and I want to be the one who makes that happen. To help with Aoife, to stand with him as a leader, and to share this life with him.
Yes, I didn’t want this, but he proved me wrong.