Saddle Up! (Back in the Saddle Prequel)

Chapter 1

1

Ciaron

I crossed over the Grattan Bridge. It was early afternoon, so the traffic on the road beside me wasn’t hectic, but it was constant, especially the sound of engines and tires. Usually, I’d be rushing to get home before my brothers finished school, but Mam told me this morning that she’d be home. So, when my boss asked me to make a delivery across the river it was no problem. It was a nice change not having to hurry from my shift at the pub.

Voices drifted up from the Liffey River below. I looked over the railing. Some kayakers were approaching, drifting on the water as a guide pointed out buildings. One lass, with an olive woollen hat pulled over her ears, was a short distance away from the main group. Long brown hair flowed down her back. While the others smiled and laughed at the guide, her face was impassive as she gazed out to the old brown, red, and cream brick buildings four to five storeys high.

Some might consider the old buildings boring. After all, they resembled square boxes with windows breaking up the monotony of the brickwork. But if you looked closely, you’d notice the chimneys jutting into the sky, creating a unique silhouette even on cloudy days like today. And when the sun was out, the red bricks glowed as if alive.

I imagined the girl’s skin bathed in that golden light as she floated towards the bridge, closer and closer. My stomach felt like it was floating. I couldn’t drag my eyes away as my steps stuttered and then halted. The tide was high, which gave me a close view of her features. She was stunning. Her skin was tanned, and small freckles were splattered across her nose and cheeks. Thick eyelashes encircled her brown eyes.

The kayaks disappeared beneath me. I rushed across the bridge and made my way to the boardwalk. I kept the kayaks in sight as I strode across the wooden walkway in the direction the kayaks were heading. My footsteps beat out a steady rhythm that matched my heartbeat.

People were sitting and drinking coffee in the sunshine, just colours, as I dashed past them to get to the next bridge. I needed to see her again. I wanted to memorise every part of her, take catalogue of all her beautiful features.

I was fortunate that not much paddling was going on from the kayakers. Their slow meandering journey was a direct contrast to the busy city around them. I was able to catch up and made it to the Millennium Bridge before they passed. I sent a silent mantra out— look up look up —begging for her to see me, to meet my eyes, to smile a smile only for me. Her gaze wandered everywhere but in my direction.

They drifted past again towards the Ha’ Penny Bridge and I repeated the exercise weaving between people, apologising to those I knocked in my haste. My fingers grazed the love locks attached to the railings as I held onto the balustrade, studying her. This time I noticed her full lips and how soft they looked. Her cheeks were red, probably from the cold. She wore no makeup, and she was perfect.

Her eyes were what captured me the most, so soulful. I stared at them, and something stirred within me, powerful and unrelenting. A fissure I hadn’t known existed, locked into place.

The group set off again, and I followed, like a cat in the shadows chasing a mouse. The kayaks made their way to the boardwalk, and I dashed to the spot, not wanting her to disembark and disappear. No way in hell that was happening.

I stood back as people got out of their kayaks onto the small jetty with the guide helping. The girl was next. Her woollen hat was pulled snug over her ears and her brown hair tumbled out from beneath.

I strode forward and held out my hand to her. “I’ll help the beautiful cailín.”

The guide gave me a sideways glance, then stepped aside and went to help the next person. The girl took my hand, and my pulse quickened. Her strong grip impressed me. She wasn’t fragile. Lucky I was tethered to her, or the lightness in my body might have infiltrated my brain.

“Thank you,” she said as her feet hit the wood. Her accent was unexpected; but it was one I recognised from my time behind the bar.

“Are you Australian?”

She nodded as she took me in and then stared into my eyes. “Do you work here?”

The tone of her voice implied she knew I didn’t. Shit. She figured that out quick.

“No.” I held her hand, still, not daring to let her go.

“You just help strangers out of kayaks?”

“Only beautiful ones.”

She laughed. “And then what do you do?”

“This.” I grinned and leant forward to whisper in her ear, breathing in a vanilla scent. She didn’t move away. Warmth radiated between us. “Will you spend the day with me? I’ll show you a good time.” I rocked back on my heels. My heart was pounding in my chest. Her eyes narrowed. Maybe I should have taken it slower. I didn’t normally have to put in the work like this.

She leant forward and whispered in my ear. “You’ll need to talk slower, Irish Boy.”

I squared my shoulders. OK. Good. I had a chance to fix this. My strong accent had saved me. “Would you like to spend the day with me?”

She smirked. “And you’ll show me a good time?”

“Aye.” I laughed. “You were playing me?”

“Playing the player? Never.” She cocked her head. “How often does preying on innocent tourists work for you?”

“You’re my first.”

She rolled her brown eyes. “I doubt that.”

The tour guide approached. She gave me a once over before saying to the girl, “Thank you for joining us, Taylor.”

Taylor. Nice name, bold. I saved it to memory.

She let go of my hand to take the small backpack the guide was handing her. “Thank you. No more water activities for me.” She glanced at me. “My boyfriend is scared of the water.” She grimaced and then lowered her voice as if sharing a dark secret. “Shark bite…right between his legs. Nasty.”

The guide’s eyes widened while my cheeks went red hot. The guide glanced at my crotch. I closed my stance. Without saying a word, I grabbed Taylor’s hand and guided her to the stairs. She threw a wave over her shoulder.

“Shark bite in Dublin?” I asked.

“I’d be more worried about your ability to show me a good time.”

She giggled. Pretty, smart and a sense of humour. Her full lips were purple from the cold. She was probably freezing. If there was one thing I knew about Australia, it was that the weather was much warmer than Ireland.

I stopped at the top of the stairs, still holding her hand and turned to face her. Her rosy cheeks highlighted her warm brown eyes as she studied me. My eyes drifted to her plump lips. My tongue darted out, licking mine.

“Let me warm you up.” I yanked her towards me and covered her lips with mine. She wrapped her arms around my neck as her lips opened. At the first stroke of her tongue, I was a goner. Heat pulsated through me. An inferno, really. I held her close, cursing the puffer jacket she was wearing.

What the fuck was wrong with me? Kissing was just kissing.

Not with her, it wasn’t. The kiss thrummed through me as the blood rushed inside my veins and roared in my ears. Every nerve ending was affected, even those in my brain, as electrical currents fired and died and were resurrected.

I held her tight, afraid that if I let go, the enchantment would disappear. I wasn’t ready to let go of her.

Not now. Not ever.