Chapter Seventeen
Aidan
“Take care of her, will you?”
“I’ll be fine.” Cara kisses Yaz and hops into the front seat of my car.
“We’ll be on our best behavior,” I say out the window with my hand up in a solemn swear.
“And you,” Yaz says, pointing at her future bride. “One, I love you, and—”
“Love you more.”
“Two, don’t let Naomi chew poor Danny up and spit him out. We need him on Saturday.”
I groan and drive back to mine, where everyone will gather before the festivities. Naomi has always been the wildest of Cara’s cousins, and a few drinks in, I’ll have to protect myself from her wandering hands. I wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong impression.
“Ready for one of your last nights as an unmarried woman?”
“Absolutely,” Cara says. “Can’t wait to see my favorite people before this weekend. It’ll be good, yeah?”
“The hen do?”
“No, the wedding. I’ve no doubt about tonight, it’s Saturday I’m thinking of.”
Cara can’t mean she’s considering backing out. But my unflappable best friend may have nearly reached her limit, and it’s my responsibility to remind her why all this stress is worthwhile.
“You told me after your third date with Yaz that you would marry her,” I point out. “There was never a question that you’d end up here, so how could it not turn out amazing?”
“A lot of ways, Dan. I still have plenty of time for a massive zit to pop up on my face. The food could taste terrible. It could rain. Gran will be there, so who knows what she might utter under her breath during the ceremony. This weekend is essentially hundreds of people coming to see me on one of the most important days of my life.”
“It’ll be grand.”
“Thank you.” Cara blows the air out of her chest. I’ve never seen her this nervous—she’s normally so self-assured. “Not sure what I’d do without you. So what’s happening tonight?”
“Surprise.”
“Oh, c’mon.”
I pinch my thumb and forefinger together and run them along my lips to zip my mouth closed.
“Christ. I told you to keep it simple. At least tell me you didn’t go with strippers.”
“How’d you know?”
“Danny!” She laughs and play-punches my arm.
Cara had the most nonchalant attitude toward her hen do—quite a surprise, since she arranged so many specific details for her wedding. I suspect she wanted to avoid inconveniencing me, but I’d do anything for her. She accommodates other people all the time, myself included. She deserves this night, especially after months and months of planning, and I stuck to her request and kept the plan as uncomplicated as possible.
When we walk into the house, June is teetering on the edge of a chair while taping up some balloons. She’s gorgeous, even with the crooked hair part and a sheen of sweat forming on her forehead.
“Looks good.” I swallow, my throat coated in sand. “The decorations.”
“Thanks. You left the list out on the counter, and I figured setting up was the least I could do.”
“I appreciate it.”
She steps down and stares at me almost expectantly, but I’ve no clue what to say.
“You two’re acting strange.” Cara waves a pointer finger between the two of us as my heartbeat stalls. Am I that obvious? “June, be honest, is nudity part of the plan?”
“What?” She bubbles out a laugh.
“How about you stop trying to guess what I planned for tonight and just relax and enjoy? No exotic dancers. Promise. ”
“Fine.” Cara purses her lips into a little pout. “Seriously, if all we do is sit around and drink here, I’ll be ecstatic. This is already such a special night.” She waves at the minimal decorations and pulls us into a group hug, kisses me on the cheek, and then does the same to June before grabbing the last of the balloons to blow up.
I take a vegetable tray from the fridge while June sets out plastic cups for drinks. We maneuver around each other like a dance, with me clumsy and unsure of the steps. I’m trying to ignore this person who I simply can’t ignore. There’s a charge in the air between us, an electric shock waiting to happen. Deciphering flirtatious interactions has never been a strength of mine, and I need to remind myself that those glances, coy smirks, all of it—they don’t mean that June wants a replay of the other evening, no matter if she liked our kiss or not. She said herself that she doesn’t do commitment, so the flirtation might be enough to satisfy her.
As the first guests arrive, I push away visions of satisfying June the way I’d really like to. It’s Elisa and Thom, who work at the restaurant that employed Cara until she opened her own place. Behind them comes Marta, Cara’s mentor from college, who has a cast on her right arm but told me that wouldn’t stop her from attending. And then, of course, Naomi appears. She glides in and undresses me with her eyes, an uncomfortable move nobody misses except for Cara’s other cousin, Ingrid. Ingrid is nineteen and disinterested in pretty much everything, save for her mobile.
“Okay everyone,” I announce. “Before the drinking, we’ve got to gear up.”
“Oh dear.” Cara’s elation overshadows the bit of trepidation in her voice as I pass out mystery bags. She opens up her tote and pulls out the attire with a delighted giggle. “Wow. Just…wow.” She puts the eggshell-white boilersuit against her body. “Industrial chic. Is this Ghostbusters cosplay?”
“They’ve our names on them,” Marta chimes in as Elisa wriggles the full-body suit over her clothes. “Such a nice touch.”
Cara’s is white, while the rest of us have—what else?—woodland berry.
“You said no typical hen party stuff, and while I know you would’ve been game for anything, these are, in fact, practical for tonight’s activities.”
With the driver arriving in ten minutes, everyone changes, and I top off the drinks. Elisa’s suggestion of the boilersuits was genius, and I tell her so. They add the right amount of silliness to a night that Cara asked us not to take too seriously. And although they are built for utility, my breath still hitches when June walks out in hers. Somehow she makes a unisex work suit unbelievably sexy.
We gather in the living room, cups prepared for toast.
“Cara,” I start. “You are exceptional. One of a kind. We are all lucky to know you and love you and watch you marry Yaz on Saturday.” A few hushed awwws pass through the group, and even Ingrid stops her scrolling. “And while you might be a bit mad for opening a business and planning the largest wedding Ballygrá has seen this century, tonight is all about the craic.” Cara covers her face with her hands in a poor attempt to hide her embarrassment. “We love you dearly. To Cara.”
All of us knock our glasses together with a cheer.
With a mellow glow from the alcohol—including the shots Naomi insisted we all take—we make our way outside where the car pulls up. June goes to grab something from her room while Naomi lingers by the door, eyeing me like a lonely cat looking for attention.
“All set?” I ask, hoping to prompt her to the car, but she reaches out to give my biceps a generous squeeze.
“Whenever you are,” she purrs. After taking in my blank expression, she cackles. “I’m joking, Danny. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my hands to myself, I promise. You’re just so easy to tease, it’s adorable. Can’t help it. And you look downright dangerous in this whole getup. Don’t you think?”
She directs the question not to me, but to June, who’s emerged from the hall. Her eyes bulge wide, like she’s witnessing a private moment between me and Cara’s cousin. I might crumble underneath June’s gaze, and I’ve no idea what to say to ensure she doesn’t get the wrong idea.
“Isn’t he a certified snack?” Naomi asks her while pinching my arm.
“Yeah,” she says as a rosy hue floods her cheeks. “You’re, uh, wearing the hell out of that jumpsuit.”
Before I can process a response or react to the painfully gorgeous way she’s biting her bottom lip, Thom approaches. “We’re all settled in. Anything else to bring?”
“No,” I reply.
“Alright then! Let’s go have a helluva night.”
The look on Cara’s face when we pull up to the ropes course tells me I’ve done a smart job planning. She yelps with joy and bounces in her seat. “I’ve wanted to do this from the day they opened!”
“Thought you might go for it.”
No more than thirty minutes outside of town is a private patch of land that someone purchased and turned into a high ropes attraction last year. The course zigzags through a lush canopy of trees, with intimidating platforms, cables, and nets hovering up high, but Cara adores thrills like this. The setup hovers at least ten meters above the ground, with an array of dangling bits and bobs. There are car tires, shaky ladders, and obscenely narrow walkways.
“This looks class!” Elisa remarks, keeping everyone’s spirits high, despite the quiver in her voice.
“It’ll be a little more interesting with this.” Naomi winks and flashes the leather-bound flask in her bag.
“Anything for our bride,” Thom says, swiping the container for a gulp.
Ingrid could not be more unenthused, smacking bubble gum while she’s plastered to her mobile in the backseat. June looks the opposite, her gaze glued to the treetops in awe.
“Oh, wait!” Cara cries out as the van driver parks in the gravel lot. “Marta, what about your arm?”
“Don’t mind me. I’ll enjoy from the ground. It’s your day, and like Thom said, anything for you.”
“Could you take photos?” Elisa asks.
“Is that our instructor?” June points to the strapping young man headed our way, who looks like a stallion. My face falls in disappointment while everyone else watches him, their mouths hanging open. It’s my luck we’d get paired with the fittest man in the country.
“Ooh, I will climb every one of his ropes,” Thom says with a gasp.
Almost everyone erupts into giddy laughter as the muscular man opens the sliding door.
“Hello, and welcome to the County Kerry Ropes Course.” His bold Aussie accent and movie-star smile hush the van in a heartbeat. “Are you the five-thirty reservation for Cara?”
We nod, and he thrusts a fist to the sky. “Right on. I’m Roddy, and I’ll be accompanying you on the trials today. Let’s get rockin’ and rollin’.”
After watching a safety briefing and signing away our lives with the liability waiver, we suit up in harnesses. Marta collects everyone’s phones, much to Ingrid’s dismay, and juggles them as best as she can with a cast. Roddy explains the unique challenges we’ll face in the sky, starting with a skinny rope bridge, and then some more complicated ones, ending with a zip line. As a group, we ascend a staircase, which spirals around a thick tree trunk. When I reach the top platform, Marta looks like an ant down below.
“Okay, bride first. And remember what I said before: you’re attached to a harness, so if you fall, you don’t have to worry. We’ll all laugh at you, obviously.” Roddy recites his go-to script, but he does a decent job of painting the delivery with humor. “But once you’ve stopped swinging from side to side, I’ll come out and help get you back up on the ropes.”
Cara teeters across the narrow bridge of dodgy-looking wooden slats, and when she gets about halfway, Roddy motions for someone else to step up. Ingrid glides with the nimbleness of a squirrel, while Naomi wobbles and giggles every step of the way. Elisa waves down below, shouting for Marta to take her photo while she poses.
While adjusting her feet for the camera, Elisa missteps, and her body darts toward the ground. I can almost feel the rope as it jerks back up with an aggressive tug, leaving her bobbing and screeching while her legs wriggle and writhe.
“Ohmygod.” June’s hands fly to cover her mouth as she looks on, horrified. “Is she okay?”
“She’ll recover,” I say, giving June some comfort. “I’m sure it happens all the time.”
“I’ll be right there! Don’t panic,” Roddy yells, stepping into Superhero Mode. With lithe movements, he clips himself into the safety rope with his carabiner and jogs across the bridge to help her back up.
“Wait.” Thom gives the rest of us on the platform a sideways glance. “That’s what happens when you fall?”
“Not as bad as it looks, I’m sure.” I pat him on the shoulder. “She’ll be able to finish the course, no problem.”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Elisa calls out, sounding like she’s reassuring herself more than us.
“Oh, I will be more than fine,” Thom says.
I follow Thom’s eyeline to Roddy and Elisa. Roddy is a regular Tarzan, wrapping his ripped arms and masculine hands around her waist to hoist her up. She’s clinging to his body for dear life. When Thom’s turn to walk comes, he flings himself from the center of the bridge. As Roddy assists him, I look toward June, who has stayed mostly quiet since we got up here. Her eyes have gone all distant, and I catch her muttering to herself.
“Something wrong?” I ask.
“No. Maybe. Check back later.” She looks at me like a frightened rabbit.
“I’ll be right behind you.”
“Mhmm. Yup.”
“All right, we ready and rarin’ to go?” Roddy asks, floating onto our platform while clapping in anticipation.
Cara and the group Woo! from the other end of the bridge. June lets out an uneasy sound under her breath and takes three wary steps, like a toddler walking for the first time. Even from a distance, her knuckles turn white from their vise grip on the side ropes. Everyone cheers for her with each minor advancement, and halfway across, she becomes visibly more comfortable. Any major wobbles stop her in her tracks, but once she regains her balance, she continues.
The course progresses, and each section has Elisa pausing for a photo, Thom diving to require a rescue from Roddy, and Ingrid putting us all to shame. June must be dreaming of putting her feet back on the ground, and she takes twice as long as everyone else, but she looks pleased with herself every time she shuffles onto the safety of the next platform. After each round, she has these intensely red cheeks—perhaps from embarrassment, perhaps from sheer exertion—and I ignore how the sight makes my outfit tight in certain places.
We make it through all but the final rope bridge—a series of narrow dangling platforms that lead to the start of the zip line. Once June has gotten halfway, Roddy gives me the go-ahead, but I catch up in no time. She’s become a statue a third of the way from the end.
“Almost there,” I speak softly so as not to spook her.
“I can’t move my legs.”
“You’re doing great.”
“Has anyone ever died here?” Her voice rattles. “I don’t mean by falling. Just right here, this exact spot?”
“Unlikely.”
“Okay, well I’m going to be the first then.”
“How we doin’ out there?” Roddy calls from the deck behind us.
“Um,” I yell back, unsure how immobile June is.
“Please.” June begs from between clenched teeth. “I need to get off this thing.”
“Look ahead, and take tiny steps.”
“I can’t walk this on my own. The other ones, sure. But this one…” She makes a sound between a groan and a whine, and I’d wrap her up and carry her on my shoulders if I could. “This is impossible.”
Instead, I take a hesitant step toward her, getting so close that my toes brush up against her heels. The shift forces her to tighten her death grip on the ropes and crouch down in fear. Below, Roddy’s climbing up the stairs of the next tree to help from the other side. “We’ll walk together.” I place my hands over hers with enough pressure to say, Don’t worry, I’ve got you . The electric current of her skin hums its way up my arms and into my chest.
One vertebra at a time, she straightens, her back pressed against me and her line of sight glued on the grassy patch of earth below.
“Straight ahead,” I whisper to her. “You’ve got this.”
“Alright, Mr. Hero!” Cara yells, followed by an ow-ow! catcall.
“Me next,” Naomi shouts, and they all laugh.
“Not helping,” I call out to them, aware of how intimate June and I must appear, with me wrapping myself around her for protection.
“Is this a bad time to mention I’m afraid of heights?” She lets out a razor-sharp exhale and I squeeze her hands. “Ohmygod I’m so nauseous. It’s probably a bad time.”
“You didn’t have to climb up here if you didn’t want to.”
“Wish you’d said that sooner. Everyone kept saying anything for the bride , and I thought I could handle it.”
“You can. One step at a time.” I keep my voice quiet and soothing like it’s just the two of us and nothing else. “Don’t think about the end, just get through this and know that I’ve got you.”
We baby-step closer to the other end. I keep my breathing even and my steps in line with June’s, like we’re moving as one. I’m in tune with her, homing in on every movement of her body and every curve and line of her, and I’d love to rip this boiler suit off her and get more familiar with them.
“That’s it.” Roddy’s outstretched hand comes into my sight line, and I look up to see everyone in full view of this private moment of physical peril. He reaches for June while everyone else has eager faces clocking our every footstep forward. The second June’s feet hit the platform, they all burst into raucous applause. Sheepishly, she grins at them before looking at me to say thanks.
That undeniable pull from when we were at the castle roots me in place. I can’t keep toeing the line with whatever I feel between us. Her body near mine has made me lightheaded, and I catch myself overanalyzing her every word and action with me. But I don’t know what to believe, or what I’ve merely led myself to believe.
“Great teamwork there.” Roddy claps yet again with pure pep. He leads us to the other side of the platform. “So how’re we doing? Ready for something different? Zip-line time, baby!”
When we make our way down to the end, Cara stands near me as we remove our gear. She locks eyes with me, then darts her gaze toward June and back to me.
I shake my head, scowling. Don’t know what you’re on about.
One of her brows shoots to the sky, and my blood pressure spikes. Cara can see what’s going on—she’s known me for ages, and she knows what I’m like when I fancy someone. Of all the someones I could choose, I’ve engaged in a flirty back-and-forth with her new sister—during a time when I should be putting all my focus on Cara.
“Hey,” she whispers and nudges me with her elbow, which brings me down to earth. She gives me a nod of approval with one hand in a fist, the thumb sticking up.
I pause, making certain I understand her correctly. “You sure?” I whisper back.
Yes , she mouths. Then, for good measure, she quietly adds, “Don’t be an eejit.”
“Thanks,” I scoff. I roll my eyes at her, but my lips coiling up give me away. Cara’s essentially given me her blessing—which means I need to talk to June, and I can’t do it soon enough.
Marta returns our phones, and Thom and Naomi chat up Roddy. Cara and a few of the others go to check out the gift shop. Aside from Ingrid, who scrolls through her mobile on a bench as if this is any other day, we all seem to vibrate from the adrenaline.
“I’ll never, ever do that again.” June removes her harness and headgear. The helmet has given her this halo of frizzy, damp hair. “I think I’ll be nauseous for the rest of my life.”
“You did well. And you’ve got a little—” I motion to my head to mirror her.
“Oh. Thanks.” As June uses her fingers to style the strands into place, her expression flips in an instant from gratitude to something else. Her eyes widen, and her face drains of color. “Oh god.” Before I can ask what’s wrong, she twirls around, leans into a nearby shrub, and retches.