Irish Dreams. Toni Kelly
Oh God, Elsie would be worried sick. “What time is it?”
“Four. You telling me you’re staying with Bryan Kelley over at Rose Hill House?”
“Four? I slept too long. I’m late. They’ll be back from Dublin Airport any moment now, if not already.” She pushed a few curls out of her face and slipped by him. The intensity of his gaze warmed her back. Her hands grew slick and she wiped one along the front of her jeans. She didn’t dare look up. Instead, she busied herself by setting her mug in the kitchen sink.
“Hello?” someone called from outside.
Maggie turned toward the front door as a gorgeous brunette knocked and entered. “Ethan?” the brunette said. She glanced up, locking gazes with Maggie. Her eyes moved over Maggie’s face, pausing on her lips. For a moment her smile faltered. “And you are?”
Ah, this was why he shouldn’t have kissed her. And maybe why the inside of his cottage looked good enough to photograph. Grabbing her phone from the counter, Maggie started toward the door. “I’m leaving. Don’t mind me.” Shoot. She lifted a hand to her temple then winced as she brushed her bandage. How was she going to find her way back from here? “Um.”
The brunette turned, one manicured brow lifted. “Yes? Forget something?”
“Do you know the way to Rose Hill House?”
The brunette’s smile widened, her perfect white teeth dazzling. “Sure. You walk out and turn left. Once you go over a hill, you’ll see border fence.”
“Thank you.”
“Wait. Maggie.” Ethan hurried after her. “I’ll take you there.”
Please no. She just wanted out of there. Away from him and Ms. Supermodel Girlfriend. “No thanks, I’m fine.” She didn’t break stride and exited through the open door.
“Ethan,” the brunette objected. “This is important.”
“I’ll be back, Kara.”
“No.” Injured head or not, Maggie would not be held responsible for some broken relationship. “Please don’t inconvenience yourself. I can find my way if I get lost,” she waved her cellphone, “I’ve got a phone.”
* * * *
“I believe I found the woman with whom I’ll be walking down the aisle.” Ethan grinned as Maggie marched–arms swinging–toward the neighboring estate, her bright red ringlets glistening in the afternoon sunlight.
“Given certain circumstances, do you think that’s a good idea?” Kara asked.
“Oh, Kara. Ever the lawyer. I didn’t mean it in a literal sense. She said she came over by way of the Kelley estate. Not to mention, the woman’s got an American accent. I bet you she’s Elsie’s best friend and maid-of-honor.”
“Ah, I see.”
“You have the papers?”
“Yes.” Kara rustled through her leather briefcase, pausing with a sigh. “Damn it. I thought I did. Appears I forgot them.”
“What? You came here with the intention of having me sign them.”
“I know. I must have left them on my desk. I’ve a lot on my mind.” She pursed her lips. “I’ve an idea. We’ll meet up for dinner in town in a couple nights. You sign the papers and we’ll have champagne in celebration of this being complete.”
Ethan frowned. “Bryan’s wedding is in a week. I’m sure he’ll need my help. You picked a really bad time.”
“I know, and I’ll make it up. I promise. Come on, you’re finally gaining your freedom back.”
Sometimes he swore Kara did these things on purpose, but he wasn’t in any mood for an argument. She had a point. A divorce from Miriam deserved a celebration. “Fine. You set up reservations and tell me a meeting place.”
“Great.” She lifted her briefcase. “By the way, have you a date for the Kelley pre-wedding party tomorrow night? I’ve heard it’s a formal event.”
Bryan hadn’t mentioned bringing a date. “No, although considering I’m not yet officially divorced, bringing another woman probably wouldn’t be the best representation.” Neither was the kiss with Maggie, but he’d leave that out of the equation right now.
“Yeah, right. Well, have a good evening.”
Ethan guided Kara to the door and let her out, releasing his breath in a sigh. She wanted him. Fair assessment or not, Kara reminded him of Miriam. Both were calculating, manipulative. Kara had more class.
He threw a couple logs into the fireplace, then lit them. Wood and newspaper scraps crackled, the embers burning sunset orange. Like Maggie’s fiery hair. He’d only spoken with her for a blink in time and yet he’d bet his life her personality would prove itself as fiery. A corker, as grandfather was fond of saying.
Ethan sat on the rug before the fire and smiled. Grandfather would get all worked up with the reliable Moore temper, but one of grandmother’s smiles was enough to have him sitting like a docile puppy. Even after grandmother passed, the old man refused other women’s invitations, and there’d been plenty. “I’ve loved the only woman who will fill me in this lifetime,” he’d say.
Ethan wanted the love his grandparents shared, or at least, he’d wanted it at one time. Now, life seemed to have chewed him up and spit him back out. Marriage to Miriam had been a fool’s desire, wishful thinking. He wasn’t sure she’d ever loved him.
Tossing one last log on the fire, he stood up and dusted his hands off on the front of his jeans. Marriage didn’t agree with him. Bachelorhood sounded far more appealing.
He opened a kitchen cabinet, pulled out a bottle of Jameson. Hell, two years with Miriam and he could accept life as a hermit. Amber liquid spilled over several ice cubes. Lifting his glass, he relished knowing she didn’t approve of drinking at home alone. “To life without a woman and impending freedom.”
He downed the entire glass, and enjoyed the burn coating his throat. Even as he set the empty tumbler down, his grandmother’s voice echoed, scolding him. She would have been right too. It was one thing to live as a bachelor, another, as an idiot. “Christ. I shouldn’t have let her go alone.” He grabbed his coat and Blackberry then headed out after Maggie.
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