Chapter 13 #2
“It looks amazing in here,” I tell Saoirse the moment my plate hits the table. At her own insistence, she’s on double duty as both floral designer and bridesmaid.
“I’ve never had the opportunity to decorate a venue like this. It’ll be huge for my portfolio.”
“You want to do more weddings?” Rory tucks a lock of platinum hair behind their ear.
“I’d like to do event design. Sure, that includes weddings, but it’s really the opportunity to do something daring and immersive.” She gestures to the swirling yellow blossoms. “Whimsical, in this case. Most of my arrangements are for wakes, so it’s a nice change.”
From across the room, Lo laughs at something her mother said. The unmistakable, robust sound is burned into my memory. I want to turn it into a song. To make her laugh like that again.
Heaven-Bound was one big musical prostration, but admitting wrongdoing in person is another story.
I lost her because I let her believe she wasn’t worth fighting for.
I want to tear down the fortress Cielo has since built around her heart, but I have to remind myself that Lo has always been the more patient of us, and she’ll need a methodical approach.
Brick by brick. Word by word. Action by action. Earning her trust back won’t be easy.
The clink of silverware against crystal rouses the attention of the dining hall.
Lark’s mother, Sharon, stands up, her flowing caftan nearly knocking over the remaining glasses on the table as she swings her arm.
“I hope y’all will join me for yoga in the aviary after lunch.
The castle staff will provide special workout clothes to change into, so come as you are.
It’s important to feed the soul as well as the body… ”
Beside her, Lark is clearly fighting the urge to cover her face. Yoga isn’t something I’m usually keen on, but I know Lo will be there. If it means a chance of seeing more of Lo than she’s let me yet, I’m game to try.
Rich tapestries and portraits line the halls of Castle Teachan.
A fully articulated suit of armor stands on either side of the stairs.
I bump into one when I catch sight of Lo rounding the corner and heading to the yoga session and apologize to it out of habit.
Pulled-back hair now exposes her graceful neck and soft jawline.
The way that jumpsuit hugs her ass makes me feel the opposite of zen.
“Headed to yoga?” she asks.
“I’ll give it a lash.”
We exit the impressively carved double doors at the front of the castle and enter the manicured garden.
Lush dahlias dot the path to the falconry buildings, but Lo isn’t much for a relaxed stroll to appreciate them.
Wherever her destination, she travels with intention.
She’s speed-walking, her jumpsuit swishing and hips swaying with each step.
I match her pace.
You’re not getting rid of me that easily, my raised brow says when she casts a furtive glance my way .
We’re nearly nose to nose when she barrels ahead. I catch up. The corner of Lo’s mouth ticks up in a competitive little smirk and her breath quickens from the mild exertion. Mine, too. We’re almost to the arched stone bridge over the creek to the aviary when a shadow passes overhead.
A raven squawks loudly as it circles us, then dives so close that I can feel the rush of wind.
We turn to each other, still locked in a ridiculous speed-walking race. Confusion on her face shifts to alarm when the bird comes back for more, dipping low and circling as we approach the edge of the bridge.
“Fuck me!” I duck before it nearly scalps me. We need to get indoors, now.
“It’s like a feathered Liam Neeson!” Lo covers her head when the raven picks up speed and whooshes close. It passes her and sets its sights on me.
Talons drag across my scalp when it returns. Not forceful enough to draw blood—yet.
Lo goes to shoo it off, but she could be next. I shield her with my arms. She pushes me away, amused at my misguided chivalry. “Run! It’s you she wants!”
For a moment, it’s almost flirtatious. Or at least, it would be if there wasn’t a murderous bird attacking us.
“Go!” she says and laughs, shoving her palm into my chest. I’m thrown off-balance by that laugh, by the sparkle in her hazel eyes.
Knocked completely off-kilter, I rock back on my heels, and my stomach bottoms out as I realize I’m falling.
It happens fast, before I can even shout. And then I’m submerged. It’s shallow, perhaps five feet deep, so my arse hits the river stones. I break the surface and gasp in shock.
“Aidan!” Lo sprints from the bridge to the creek’s edge, crunching reeds along the muddy bank. “Are you okay?”
I stand in chest-deep water. Rivulets stream from my soggy hair. “Did you see that? An unhinged harpy just tried to drown me.”
“I took a Hippocratic oath. I was just trying to get you away from that raven. I didn’t mean to actually push you off the bridge.
” Now she’s in up to her ankles, sandals coated in mud.
That woman neurotically cares about her shoes.
Maybe she cares about me, too. “I mean…have I thought about it? Maybe.”
“Were you worried about me?” I trudge back to the creek edge in waterlogged clothing, failing to suppress a delighted grin.
“Worried I’d have to haul you out of the water to administer CPR.”
“Don’t act like a little mouth-to-mouth would be such an imposition.”
Cielo’s teeth press into her juicy bottom lip, and the energy shifts between us when I realize it’s because her gaze is fixed to the wet shirt plastered across my chest that’s become all but transparent.
I attempt a seductive swagger back to the grass, but the marshy surface pulls me down.
As Lo reaches out to help me out of the mud, I consider pulling her into the water, just to hear her squeal in protest and have an excuse to hold her tight to my body—but we’re not there yet. Maybe not ever again.
From a nearby tree branch, the raven caws another warning before flying off in search of its next victim. Cielo shakes her head.
“What did it want? We haven’t got any food,” I say.
“It thinks we’re about to send a falcon out to hunt. The guide earlier said some of the other birds in the area get territorial.”
Plodding awkwardly up the bank, I try to recover some semblance of the effortlessly cool musician I’m supposed to be. Mud squelches in my shoes. I smooth a hand over my heavy trousers to wick some of it away. When my palms skim over empty pockets, my stomach drops.
The ring box Callum had entrusted to me is gone.
“No, no, no, no…” I pat the pockets again in hopes that it will magically materialize.
“What?” Lo asks.
“The ring! Callum gave it to me for safekeeping.”
“You lost it?”
“Only because you threw me off a fecking bridge!”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!”
A wave of nausea washes over me. “It’s an heirloom, it belonged to his grandmother. God. I’m the worst best man ever.”
“Untrue,” Lo assures me. “You’re sure you had it before you fell?”
“He’d just given it to me. It was in my back pocket, in a ring box. I’m going to be sick.”
Without hesitation, Cielo marches toward the creek again, craning her neck and moving aside reeds. “What color is it?”
“Dark gray, rounded edges. Gold hinge.”
“Seriously…?” She peers grimly at the thousands of smooth gray stones composing the creek bed. “It’ll be like finding a needle in a haystack.”
“Afraid so.”
I follow our footprints through the mud back to the water. Nothing. Wading into the creek slowly, I nudge stones aside with my foot in search for the telltale seam of the gold-hinged lid. My unease rises with each stone overturned.
Lo follows me in, hissing as she is engulfed in cool water up to her chest.
It’s impossible to make out any difference between the stones, so I bend down, angling to keep my nose above the surface as I navigate them by touch.
“I won’t forgive myself if I lost it.”
Lo’s wet hand rests on my shoulder. “Hey. We’re going to find it if we have to turn every stone in this creek.”
Determination blazes in her hazel eyes, but something softer lies just under the surface.
This small touch fans the flame of hope within my chest. I curl my fingers into a fist to stop myself from pulling her into an embrace.
The instinct to wrap her in a hug is so strong, like muscle memory.
When I was worried sick for Marie, Lo was always there.
When I was burnt out, working to support my family while still playing music, Lo was there.
And now…she’s here. Mere centimeters away.
Cielo isn’t quite tall enough to reach the bottom without putting her head underwater, so she takes a gulp of air before submerging her whole body in the creek.
Her hair dances in the stream’s flow, lending her an ethereal quality.
She gasps as she breaks the surface, hair sleek against her forehead and peaked nipples visible through her clothes.
Our eyes meet and I’m transported back in time, to jumping off the diving board into the bay at Salthill Promenade.
The freezing crash of the sea and contrasting warmth of her skin.
Licking salt from her lips as we treaded water.
My blood stirs as her droplet-covered lashes lower to rove over my wet body.
In an instant, the cold creek feels like a hot tub ready to boil over.
Cielo breaks first, drawing in a deep breath before submerging herself again to search for the ring box. I open my eyes underwater to search, and see Lo groping blindly at each stone before casting it aside. She rises to the surface and I follow, empty-handed.
Heart growing heavy with the acceptance that I’ve lost Callum’s ring, I shake my head. Ripples surround us as Lo wades closer.
“Thanks for trying,” I say.
She frowns. “That’s it?”
A gentle wave sloshes as I gesture at the countless stones. It feels like one’s lodged in my chest. “It’s a lost cause.”
The disappointment in her eyes says it all. She needs to see me try, against all odds.
The thing is: If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t do things all that differently.
Yes, I’d tell Lo that we’re stronger than the statistics against a long-distance relationship…
But I would still go to London. She understood that if I didn’t take that risk, I couldn’t respect myself—as an artist, as a son, as a man—but she didn’t believe we stood a chance if I left.
How was I supposed to convince her we could make it work, no matter how many miles lay between us, when she wouldn’t hear me out?
Discouraged by her lack of faith, I hadn’t bothered arguing.
I have to try now, even if there’s little chance of success. I gave up too easily before, but now is my chance to prove to Lo that I’m willing to put in the work. If only I didn’t have to return to London at all. My career is just too unsteady to risk leaving right now.
“Go ahead and get dry. I’ll stay and look,” I tell her.
“I’m not gonna let you search for it alone.” Lo makes her way toward a half-submerged fig branch close to where I fell in.
I reach down to the creek bed again, fingers gliding across the smooth stones.
“Aidan!” she cries, clutching something in her fist. “I got it!”
“How?”
“Maybe the branch kept the ring box from bobbing along under the surface.” Reluctant to trust me with something precious again, she holds it in a viselike grip.
“Come on, let’s get you inside and warm.” I gesture toward the castle.
We wade to the marshy embankment, pushing aside the reeds.
I reach out, unsure if Lo will accept my meager assistance.
She pauses for the briefest moment before her freezing fingers grip my palm.
It’s not an embrace, not even a hug. It’s a utilitarian arrangement of our bodies for the sake of balance on a squishy patch of waterlogged earth, but the proximity has my heart beating faster.
I tell myself it’s the residual panic of losing the ring, but no.
It’s all Lo. She’s always had that effect on me.
“Wait.” There’s so much to say, but I settle on, “Thank you for helping me. I’d never have found it on my own.”
Lo’s eyes dart between mine, searching. Water droplets still coat her eyelashes. She hasn’t yet pulled away and I’m grateful for every moment our skin touches. Every inch of contact. “I think you would have…if you didn’t give up so fast.”
Was Lo now saying that she believed we’d have found a way to stay together, had I just fought harder?
Did she want me to fight for us now?
The sadness in her voice pulls the breath from my chest. I want to say something, but for a songwriter, I can be awful at coming up with the right words. When they’re set to music and not uttered face-to-face, it’s completely different.
“Aidan…” She says my name like a dare. An invitation. A plea. Two years of pent-up desire crackles between us.
Before I realize, I’m leaning in close. Cielo’s hand slides up my arm and sends a jolt of adrenaline through me.
Tentatively, I hover a breath away from her mouth, terrified to close the gap.
Her eyes flutter closed. Cupping her chin, I bring our lips together.
Momentary cold melts into warmth as Lo returns it eagerly.
How I’ve missed this. Kissing her again after two years apart feels more vivid than I remembered, like a digital remaster of an old demo.
My body recalls the sweet melody, and my heart races to its pulsing beat.
When I skim my tongue along the seam of her lips, she opens to me beautifully.
My hands drift across her chilled skin, from her chin down her neck. A delicious little moan is my reward.
Lo steps forward, close enough to brush the front of my pants. I nip at her bottom lip in retaliation instead of giving her the friction she wants. She kisses me hard and hot. Can Lo feel my hands tremble?
Her eyes snap open. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Too far. I took things way too far. What is wrong with me?
Although my arms ache to hold her, I drop them to my sides. “Sorry.”
With a suction sound, Cielo extracts her foot from the mud and plops into the grass. The intimacy of the moment vanishes. Her sandals are toast, but she wipes them on the grass anyway while I try to process the abrupt change in mood.
“We’d better go tell Lark’s mam we’re not coming.” Although they’re providing dry athletic clothes, our hair and undergarments would still be soaked.
“Yeah,” Lo agrees. “Her heart would be broken if she thought we just blew off her sun salutations or whatever.”
My lips buzz from where they touched hers. My brain is replaying that kiss, again and again.