THE NEXT THREE WEEKS, I focus solely on my job. Sunny sends me a new phone, and Bridget helps me get it set up with a local plan. Having my phone back almost makes me feel human again.
It doesn’t do anything to ease the discomfort and awkwardness after the drunk encounter with Callum. Work becomes work, and he goes back to staying at the rectory more often than the house. Our conversations stay safely in the realm of work talk, and I almost never meet his sobering gaze when we are together.
We don’t talk about the time I almost kissed him. We don’t even get close to talking about it. And honestly, I try not to even let it cross my mind. I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t even like Callum. I was purposefully putting myself in the path of rejection, just for fun. What kind of masochistic shit is that?
We are just too different. He’s devoted and spiritual, linked to some higher power that makes me feel about two inches tall. Meanwhile, I’m some sort of lost lamb who purposefully ignores sage advice and walks right into trouble around every turn.
Plus I’m not attracted to Callum, not like that. I go for younger, more laidback guys. Trying to kiss him was just a way for me to test my control in the situation, to see how far I could make him sin. It was stupid. And I regret it so much I can’t even bear to think about it.
The hotel has been busier these days. It gives me more time in the house with Bridget, helping her clean rooms and cook. Less time in the barn with Callum where working without looking each other in the eye becomes unbearable.
When I come down one afternoon after cleaning the second floor common bathroom, there is a group checking in. They are young, American if I had to guess by their accents. There are three guys and two girls. For a moment, I think of Clint and his friends, and check the girls for signs that they could be victims of the same thing I was. But the guys pay and they all seem pretty familiar with each other. One of the boys, with rusty-hair, tattoos up his arms and neck, and a heavy backpack loaded on his back, finds me with his crystalline eyes as I come down the stairs.
“We do serve dinner as well in the dining room at seven,” Bridget says with a chipper smile. She offers dinner to all of the guests. They rarely accept, and the Americans never do. Breakfast is a comfortable quick meal they can take to-go or grab for the road, but dinner is intimate, and I’ve tried to explain to her that it’s just not comfortable for Americans who value their privacy and standoffishness. Still, she tries.
The blue-eyed boy smiles politely at her and gives her a nod, which I know to mean he won’t be joining us for Guinness stew tonight.
As I get to the lobby, I smile at the group and grab the duster from behind the counter to take to the dining room. The guy finishes paying and keeps his eyes pinned on me as I move toward the next room.
I should just bite my tongue and move on, but he’s too cute with those eyes that look like trouble. He puts pride in his appearance, like a groomed show dog who is a champion of the mating ritual. And I can’t fucking help myself. The rest of his group looks paired up, standing to the side and mapping out their plan.
“Welcome to Ennis,” I say cheerfully as I pass him through the wide doorway. It’s all he needs to approach me.
“You don’t sound Irish,” he says with a mischievous smile.
“That’s because I’m from California.”
His eyes light up. “And how did you end up here?”
“Same as you, but I loved it too much to leave.”
Judging by his curious smile and slow head nod, he’s invested. There’s a special moment when you’re talking to a guy when you can suddenly tell that he’s not leaving this conversation with a number, a kiss, or a plan to see you again.
I did this on purpose. As much as I promised my sister I would be good and focus on myself, I need a distraction from what happened with Callum. This boy is too pretty to pass up.
“Suddenly, I don’t think we planned enough time in this town.” His teeth are so white, I want to lick them with the tip of my tongue.
“Well, what do you have planned while you’re here?”
“Some hiking today, then a pub for some live music tonight.”
“Sounds perfect,” I answer with a brighter-than-normal smile. “Keep in mind we have supper at seven here, and Bridget makes the best stew you’ve ever had. Perfect for something after your hike.”
I see the way his eyes widen, subtly scoping my face down to my neck and breasts. “Oh, will you be at the dinner?” It’s not coy or subtle. We’re flirting with each other, and the vibe is real.
“I’m here every night,” I answer with a smile.
“You live here too then?”
My heart pitter patters in my chest. I bite my lip. “Third floor.”
With a careful nod, he tries to ease back his smile but struggles. His friends call him, and he has a hard time looking away from my face. “I’ll see you at dinner…”
“Cadence,” I smile.
“I look forward to it, Cadence.”
After they leave, I’m filled with a confusing mixture of excitement and shame. I would normally have loved moments like these, the anticipation for what’s to come. Meeting someone and every moment of buildup until that first kiss then the excitement in every moment that comes after.
But right now I’m feeling a little disappointed in myself. As I turn back toward the desk, I stare face-to-face with Bridget who is clearly blushing and looking at me like I have a wild secret.
“Make enough stew for our guests,” I say as I leave the lobby.
“Oh, I am.” She laughs.
When Callum walks through the door that night, the group is already back and the table is lively and full of conversation. Taron, Mr. Tattoos and Frank Sinatra eyes, sits next to me. His attention has been zeroed in on me since he came back with the group.
But as the six-foot holy man in black walks in, I find my eyes suddenly glued to him. I want to see his face when he notices Taron’s attention on me. Everyone quiets down as he makes his greeting, but his gaze lingers on me and Taron.
After washing up, he finds his seat between Bridget and Hannah, the bubbly American who I thought was attached to one of the other boys but has made it quite clear that she is not. She immediately pulls him into a conversation, maybe out of politeness. The way she turns toward Bridget less and less seems to suggest she’s talking to Callum more because he has those eyes that any girl would be glad to get lost in.
I just want to tell Hannah not to bother talking to Callum like that. She clearly didn’t pick up on his occupation because he came in without his collar on.
“So what is there to do around here after dark?” Taron’s voice pulls me from my envy-induced eavesdropping.
“There’s a great pub down the street. Had a little too much fun there the first night I was here.” I laugh, even though I can feel Callum’s eyes on me.
“Sounds perfect.” Taron leans toward me, placing his hand on the back of my chair. “You’ll show us where it is?”
As he finishes the question, our eyes meet, and I’m practically hypnotized by those eyes and long lashes.
“Of course,” I answer with a smile.
I don’t look up after I pull my stare away from Taron’s. I know exactly what I will find if I do…or rather who I will find, and I don’t need his judgement right now.
After dinner, I help Bridget clean up, and Taron meets me in the lobby. Callum is lingering longer than he normally does, but I wish he’d just leave. Without him constantly watching me and feeling the pressure under his stare, I could have a really good time with Taron.
I know it’s not forever, but it’s for tonight, and tonight could be really amazing if Callum would just leave. Instead, he approaches the rest of the group and asks where they’re going. I watch Hannah’s eyes light up when Callum offers to walk them to the pub.
Taron hardly notices anything. Instead, he places his hand at the small of my back and we walk together out the door and down the street. I’m too annoyed with Callum to enjoy the feel of Taron’s fingers on my bare skin or the delicious spicy cologne he’s wearing.
More than once on the short walk, I catch Callum glaring back at us. I feel like my dad is watching me on a date.
In the pub, we find two tables next to each other and sit down after getting our drinks. The band isn’t on yet, so we spend the first hour just talking. Taron doesn’t seem interested in group chatter. He keeps turning to me to ask about my life in Ennis and how I got here. He tells me that he’s from Modesto, and in an apprenticeship to become a tattoo artist. He bites his lip when he’s not talking, and it’s driving me crazy, but every moment that I get lost in his beauty, I see the dark green eyes watching me from across the table.
I keep my drinking slow. Last time I pounded back the beers, I tried to makeout with the one guy I’m not allowed to makeout with.
Just before the band starts playing, Taron’s hand lands on my bare knee and I don’t pull away. Sunny told me to stay away from guys, but she doesn’t know how bored I am here and how bad I just need a little attention from the opposite sex.
“You’re a priest?” a voice shrieks from the next table. Hannah is staring at Callum with a shocked expression, flavored with a smile.
He nods at her.
“A real priest?” The other two guys in the group are leaning in in shock too.
Taron looks at me for confirmation and I nod. “Yep. He’s a real life priest.”
I see the blush in Callum’s cheeks. Hannah doesn’t look any less interested now that she knows this, which doesn’t surprise me. That’s what women do. We go after the ones we can’t have. It’s a game to us.
After a moment, I feel Taron’s fingers pull me closer as he presses his lips to my ear to whisper so I can hear over the music. “I’m relieved. I thought he must have been your boyfriend with the way he was watching you.”
Like the way he’s watching me now.
Pulling back, I smile at Taron. “No boyfriend.”
It’s like a final invitation because he pulls me closer by the arm and presses his soft lips against mine. Once his tongue is in my mouth, right at the table with his friends, I know we’re having sex tonight.
And I suddenly feel anxious and restless for it. I need it now. And not in a horny, fuck me now sort of way. I need it now because the sooner I get Taron into my system, I can get other guys out. I don’t want Clint to be the last guy I fucked. And I don’t want Callum to be the last guy I almost kissed.
“You want to head back?” I ask when our lips part.
Taron’s eyes go wide and a smile lifts the corners of his lips. “Fuck yeah.”
