Chapter Three
Ronin Byrne
I pull up outside the O’Connells’ place just after two and ease the Cadillac to the curb before cutting the engine.
She ticks as she cools, and I sit there a second, listening.
She’d run good all the way over, but after spending most of yesterday under the hood making sure everything was right, I still find myself waiting for something to sound off.
Last thing I want is trouble on the road with Alannah beside me.
I get out and shut the door, giving the fresh blue paint a quick look as I walk around the car.
By the time I look toward the house, Alannah is already stepping onto the porch, her face lighting up as she comes straight down the walk to me.
The closer she gets, the better I can see what she’s wearing.
A light coat. Her hair pulled back with a simple band.
Flats on her feet. She looks cute, but she didn’t dress as warmly as I told her to.
Not even close. That coat isn’t heavy enough, and with her legs bare below the hem, she’s going to freeze.
When she reaches me, I pull her in for a kiss. “Hi, doll,” I murmur against her lips.
“Hi,” she says, smiling up at me when I let her go. Then her eyes catch on the car behind me and widen. “Is that…?”
I glance back at the Cadillac, unable to keep the grin off my face. “Told you she’d be a beauty once she was done. Thought we could take her for a drive, get out of the city for a bit.”
Her smile widens. “Really? Where are we going?” she asks, already starting toward the passenger side.
Before she gets far, I catch her around the waist and tug her back to me. “Hey. Hang on a second,” I say, looking her over again. “You’re going to freeze dressed like that, doll. I told you to wear something warmer.” I nod toward the house. “Go on back in and change. Then we’ll get out of here.”
She looks down at herself, her brows drawing together, then lifts her eyes back to mine, her cheeks a little pink. “Oh. Right. You said it might be colder where we’re going. Sorry. I’ll be right back.” Before I can say anything, she turns and hurries back inside to change.
It isn’t long before she comes back out, dressed warmer this time. “That’s better,” I say, pushing off the car as she walks back to me. I open the passenger door for her, but before she gets in, she rises onto her toes and presses a kiss to my lips.
“Thank you for waiting,” she says softly.
I close the door behind her, then walk around and get in on my side. Once I’m behind the wheel, I turn the radio on low, catching Bob Clayton on WHDH counting down the top ten as I pull away from the curb and drive us out of the city.
We’re heading for Nantasket. When Alannah told me on our first date that she missed the sea, it was the first place I thought to bring her.
My da used to drive us there when I was younger, and I remembered the beach being open, with no big buildings blocking the view.
Just sand, waves, and a few small shops close enough to walk to.
We’ve got the whole afternoon to spend there, and I’m hoping she’ll like it.
During the drive, she asks me questions about the Cadillac, surprising me with how much she remembers from the repairs I’d told her I was doing on her.
I’d figured she was just being polite when she let me go on about it, and that most of what I’d said had gone in one ear and out the other.
But from the questions she’s asking, I realize she must’ve been listening closer than I’d thought, and damn if that doesn’t bring a stupid grin to my face as I bring the hand I’ve been holding between shifts to my lips and kiss her knuckles.
I always knew I liked Alannah, but these past few months of actually dating her have made it harder to think of this as only a match our fathers arranged. She fits beside me better than I ever expected, and that makes me want to do things for her. Take her places. Make her smile.
So when we reach Nantasket, I follow the road closest to the beach and find a place to park as close to the water as I can get.
By the time I put the Cadillac in park, Alannah is turned toward the window, damn near vibrating with excitement.
Then she looks back at me, eyes bright. “You took me to the beach!”
“Told you I’d take you.” She leans across the seat like she means to kiss my cheek, but I turn my head at the last second and catch her mouth instead. “I’m glad you like it, baby,” I murmur, pressing one more kiss to her lips before I make myself pull back. “Give me a second.”
I get out and make my way around to her side before she gets impatient enough to climb out on her own.
When I open her door and help her out, a cold gust of wind comes off the water.
She shivers, wrapping her arms around herself and pulling her coat tighter.
Her mouth twists as she looks up at me, and I know she’s realizing exactly why I told her to dress warmer.
I try to hold back a smirk, but she catches it before I can.
The corner of her mouth tugs up before she presses her lips together, trying so hard to look annoyed that I can’t stop the laugh that escapes me.
That makes her roll her eyes, but the smile she was fighting breaks free. “Don’t start,” she grumbles.
I ignore her grumbling and take her hand, and we walk across the sand together.
The tide’s high today, the waves steadily creeping farther up the beach, so we stop where the sand’s still dry.
I step behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, and she leans back into me, her hands coming up to cover mine.
We stay like that for a while, just watching the waves roll in and drag back out, the dark blue water stretching ahead of us like it goes on forever.
When she finally speaks, her voice is quiet. “God, I missed this. The smell of the sea. The sound of the waves.”
The way she says it makes me want to bring her back as many times as she’ll let me. “Then I’ll bring you back,” I murmur, brushing a kiss against her hair. “Whenever you want.”
Her fingers tighten over mine. “Thank you, Ronin.”
Before I can answer, a shout carries over the wind behind us, and we both turn as a group of boys pass with fishing poles slung over their shoulders.
A couple of them are going back and forth about who’s going to catch the biggest fish, while another trails a few steps behind, insisting they’re not going to catch anything with the waves this high.
That sets the others off, and before long they’re all laughing and talking over one another as they head down the beach.
Alannah looks up at me, smiling at their antics, and I can’t help but return it.
When I look back at the water, I realize the waves have crept higher up the beach while we weren’t paying attention, closer now to where we’re standing.
I give her hand a gentle tug. “Come on. Want to go look at the shops?”
She nods and lets me lead her up the path from the beach.
We pass a few small storefronts set back from the shore, then stop at a little coffee shop with fogged windows.
I get a coffee for myself and tea for her, and we take the drinks with us, the cups warm in our hands as we wander past a bait shop, a small market, and a window full of postcards and painted shells.
By the time we’ve finished our drinks, we’re near the end of the little row of shops. Up ahead, there’s a line coming out of a chip shop, and I nod toward it. “You hungry?”
Alannah follows my gaze, then smiles. “Even if I wasn’t, I think a line like that means we should get some.”
Even with how busy the shop is, it doesn’t take long before our order comes out.
We find a wooden picnic table nearby and sit across from each other with the paper-wrapped chips between us.
I peel back the paper and take one, the grease burning my fingers as I blow on it before taking a bite.
Salty and crisp. These were definitely worth the line, I decide, reaching for another.
Alannah takes one too, and we eat with our fingers, talking between bites.
Somewhere in the middle of it, Alannah starts talking about her family back home.
Mick had bitched to me more than once about Ireland, about how living on the same piece of land as his whole family had made him feel like everyone was packed in on top of each other, with too many eyes on him and too many people waiting to put him back in his place.
But when Alannah talks about it, she makes it sound different.
Not crowded. Not suffocating. Like being surrounded by the people she loved had been the best part of living there.
She tells me about her Uncle Conor and Aunt Maeve, who were almost like second parents to her, and their children, Declan and Róisín, who were forever talking her into things she knew she shouldn’t be doing.
Then she talks about her grandparents, about how she liked helping her grandmam in the kitchen, and her voice goes soft when she tells me how her grandda would sometimes find them there, pull his wife into his arms, and dance with her.
A small smile pulls at her mouth, her cheeks going pink, and I like how much those little memories still seem to mean to her.
The more she shares with me, the more I find myself telling her.
I tell her about growing up in Southie, how my da taught me the ropes while my mam still tried to give me as much of a childhood as she could.
About the lads I ran around with, most of them sons of my da’s men, and Alannah laughs as I tell her story after story about the shit we’d get up to and the trouble it landed us in.
Before long, we finish off the chips, and I gather up the empty paper, crushing it into a ball in my fist before tossing it into a bin nearby. “Want to walk around a little more?”