Page 14 of Beneath the Quiet

“Of course not.”

“You’re staying at Eliza and Hugo’s cottage, right? Rose Hill?”

“Yup, that’s the one. You know them?”

“A little bit. I don’t think they’ve been here more than a few times since they bought it.”

I come close to accepting his tempting offer. I even open my mouth, the word “yes” on the tip of my tongue, but the sound of Little Miss letting out a loud meow stops me. I know that the sensible thing would be to accept his offer, but I don’t want to be a bother. I can take care of myself.

I shake my head.

“No, thank you. But…” I raise the mug and walk back towards the entrance we came from. “Thank you for taking the time to give me this. I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“No rush.” Aidan runs a hand through his hair, making the ends stand up, and I bite my lip at the adorable sight. “I’ll be out all day, working the land.”

“Of course. I’ll just leave it by the door for you, then?”

“That’ll be good.”

“Okay, then. Well…goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Maeve.”

Aidan Lynch

My gaze lingers too long on the pretty backside of my sudden visitor for the night, and even though I know it’s wrong, I can’t wrench my eyes away. I ball my fists at my sides and hold back a groan, biting down on my lip, when Maeve bends to scratch the damn cat behind its ears.

“Pretty Little Miss.”

Maeve’s whisper sends a pang of unexpected longing through my chest. No sooner has she straightened her back and left the kitchen than my breath leaves my burning lungs on a loud exhale. The torment on my raging libido ebbs away.

“Fuck,” I whisper to the now-empty room. “What the actual fuck?”

The silence is deafening and the scents of sawdust, peppermint, and paint are my only companions now. Somehow, this evening ended differently from what I’d planned, and I hardly know what to do with myself until tomorrow morning when Katie gets back from her night at my parents’ house.

Ah, well. Might just have to make myself come to get the itch scratched.

It’s partly Maeve’s fault that I ended my night in Cork early and came home instead of leaving with a willing lady. All through the evening, my mind kept wandering back to the events of the day, especially to the part when I pulled an attractive, auburn-haired lady with fiery, moss-green eyes from the ground. It felt like my skin burned when we shook hands, and I felt dizzy the longer I kept staring into her gaze. Even with mud and dirt in her hair and on her mouth and cheeks, her confidence and air of authority intrigued me. The longer I was in her company, the more attracted I became, and that’s inconvenient.

Not to mention dangerous territory given the fact that she’s a new member of my village. So, instead of staying home, my mind circling back to Maeve, I got ready for a night at my favourite pub in Cork. It’s been so long since I lost myself in the willing arms of a stranger, so finding someone to take my mind off her should’ve been exactly what I needed. Even though the sex will always be better if you have a connection with the person you’re with, I’m no saint. When I need a release, I get it.

The pub wasn’t that busy, but that's not unusual for a Monday night, but I hadn’t been there long before the urge to leave instead of finding a fun fling was so strong that I couldn’t ignore it.

I started the drive home, and the closer I got to my home, to my village, the more settled I became, and peace the likes of which I haven’t felt in years settled inside me as I turned my old Land Rover down my lane and saw the welcoming lampposts come closer.

But now, the peace has disappeared again, and I’m left with an aching hollowness in my chest. I rub my knuckles over my heart and wince. The pain has dulled over the years, but it’s still there. I push it back to the far corners of my mind, only letting it out at times when I have the strength to handle it. Tonight, I’m not strong enough.

Instead, I focus on my walk with Maeve, and curiosity settles in my gut. Even though I walked fast, I quickly realised that she couldn’t keep up with me, and I did my best to slow down without letting her know I did it for her. She might’ve been out of shape, as she said, but even so, she shouldn’t have been as out of breath as she was.

She’s both trouble and mystery wrapped up in one shiny ribbon.

A ribbon I fear I’d like to untie bit by bit.

“Meow.”

I look down at the only female company I have left for tonight. The cat blinks slowly once, twice…then moves back on her haunches before she launches up, claws out. I hiss when they catch on my jeans, the fabric a poor defence against the feline’s talons. Before she sends even more pain shooting up my thighs, I bend and snatch her up to settle against my chest.

“Bad cat,” I murmur, but there’s no real heat behind my words.