No Time to Cry (Nine While Nine Legacy Book 1) (22 page)

BOOK: No Time to Cry (Nine While Nine Legacy Book 1)
4.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

It looked very much like a Thomas
Kinkade
painting, the windows warmly aglow in the deepening
evening, welcoming, beckoning to me to enter and be warm and safe in its heart.

I was greeted by
a rousing tune by Mumford & Sons as I entered.

The interior was just as stunningly
appointed as it was outside, with polished, rich wood throughout. The floor was
made from the same grey slate as the sign outside the entrance, stating that
there was no
wifi
available. The bar was topped with
a counter of red granite, a heated footrest lay beneath. Gas lamps were
suspended from the highly decorative,
carved ceilings
of vines and
leaves.

 Fires burned at each end of the
large room. Two private enclosed booths, sat at the front, near the
entrance—snugs—private rooms that originally were for patrons who preferred not
to be seen in the public bar.

Sometimes it was ladies who wished to
enjoy a private drink in a time when it was frowned upon for women to be in a
pub, or it might be occupied by the local police officer in for a quick nip, or
perhaps the parish priest for his evening whisky.

Or my favorite—lovers in search of a
quiet spot for a rendezvous.

I thought more places should have them.

On either side of each fireplace was
another such booth, but each of these had a secondary door that could open up
to view the fire. The snugs all had etched and
stained glass windows
featuring
mystical creatures, ravens,
fleur-de-lys
, and Celtic
symbols, and were inset at above average head height into walls of intricately
carved panels of perhaps mahogany or cherry wood. Scattered across the rest of
the room were tables, counter seating, and cozy, vintage leather armchairs
arranged in front of the hearths.

This might very well become my new home
away from home, where I would not have to worry about running into any
Bháis
. As I settled into the comfortable chair in
front of the fire, I decided Na Sciath Snug could become my perfect little
hideaway.

I could come here for ales and pub
nibblies
in the evenings, keeping it simple with writing in
longhand in notebooks. There was not a single television screen in the entire
establishment. I liked that even better than the welcomed absence of internet.

 

 

At
least an hour had passed, and I’d just started on my second ale, when I felt
compelled to raise my head from the book I was enjoying.

He stood there, next to the door of the
semi-private booth, dripping not with the rain from the storm outside, but with
what I could only call his old-world grace and allure. Gideon.

My heart did a little trip-hop…I wished
it would stop doing that.

He was leaning, so nonchalant, shoulder
against the carved wood column, arms folded, watching me. How long had he been
watching me, just standing there like that? And why was he here? This was my
find. My sanctuary. I regarded him grudgingly for a moment, before expelling a
sigh and dropping my book to my lap.

I was actually thrilled to see him; I
just hadn’t wanted any of them knowing about this refuge. And why did he have
to look like that? So…so…mouth-watering. And why was I even thinking such a
thing? I had to stop that. But then I remembered last night’s dream. Should I
tell him anything about it? I didn’t know what any of it meant, or why
currently there rested in my pocket a pendant, which I’d been told by a woman
I’d never seen before, to have him put on me. Oh…and hadn’t he kissed me on the
top of my head before he left last night? Or had I dreamed that as well?

There was an ever-present sensuality
about him, in his dark blue eyes, in his mouth, in the way he stood. He was the
kind of man, that in my old life, never in a thousand years, would I have
flirted with. Yet right then, in that moment, I felt myself sit up straighter,
look at him from under my lashes, and move my hair away from my neck so he
could fully appreciate the length of bared flesh. I just couldn’t help myself.
It was completely involuntary. I swear.

A smile curved his mouth and he waved me
over to him. No words.

I sighed again, resentfully giving up my
repose. But the compensation was time with him, so...

He conducted me into the charming
enclosure and as I passed by him I inadvertently brushed against him ever so
slightly. He didn’t shift whatsoever to move away from the subtle contact.

I took a seat on the cushiony leather
bench. He stared down at me and for a split second I saw an utterly unshielded
look in his eyes, but just as quickly as it had shown up, it vanished. Had I
really seen sentiment there?

 He closed the door behind him. Our
door had an etched picture of two ravens. They faced each other. In their
talons, they held a triskele…I felt incredibly unsteady.

My hand reached into my pocket and
wrapped around the necklace. It was cool and soothing in my hand and settled me
some, but not all the way.

Why was the exact same symbol that was
on my pendant on this pub door?

“I hear things went better today,” he
said in a voice I couldn’t decipher, as he sat down across from me. Was he here
to hand out a reprimand, another warning, because I’d left Liam to do the
second cull? Liam had been acting like a complete jerk.

“Sure.” I was suddenly glad I’d left my
leather jacket on, I wasn’t ready to explain the tattoo…not that I should have
to anyway, but I just never knew.

It had been
hours of intensely odd pain, somewhere between a hard and steady scratch and a
burning sensation, a searing and tedious burn as he carved the ink into my
flesh. It was worth it. It was gorgeous and even the remnant pain felt kind of
strangely nice, kind of sexy, very worth it.

“Liam wasn’t very pleased that you left
him to finish up.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be,” I countered.
I glanced around the inside of the booth, taking in the décor on this side of
the door, avoiding Gideon’s stare. To one side of the door there was an antique
bell system, I presumed for alerting staff.

He laughed. That shocked the hell out of
me. He laughed a deep, rarely used chuckle, one full of gentle amusement. It
affected me in a way I would not have expected, so strongly, something in my
heart lifted and warmed and wanted to move to him. He brushed an errant
spiraling curl away from my face and that slightest touch made me shiver.

I pulled my gaze from his, my heart
beating too quickly.

“How long have you known Liam? How long
have you worked together?

“No questions. I came here to see that
you were alright. Michael said when you left you were upset, that you looked
unwell.”

“I’m fine. Liam was just…” he’d been a
creep, but I didn’t want to cause him any strife with Gideon either,
“upset…still upset over the flubbed up cull, I guess.” Was that it, or was it
because we had fought about not being together? Did that bother him at all, or
was it just about the cull I’d screwed up on? I didn’t want to discuss either
tonight…again…or ever.

There was a light rap on the door and
Gideon opened it, admitting the server with two plates of food and fresh
drinks.

“Shepherd pie,” Gideon informed me as he
laid out his cloth napkin over his lap.

I narrowed my eyes at him, my hands not
moving to my food as a thought entered my mind. “Is this place yours too?”

He laughed again. “No, Draghail, it’s
not.” He drank from his frosted ale glass.

 “So, it’s just a complete coincidence
that you just happened to show up here, that you found me here?”

“Of course not.”

I sighed.

He smiled. I wished he’d stop doing
that…sort of.

“My friend, Bellamy, is the owner of The
Shield.”

“The what?”

“Na Sciath Snug is The Shield Snug. I’m
sure you can see why we would favor such a place considering the accommodations
offered. In our profession privacy can be of the utmost importance. This is
our
snug.”

I barked a sharp little laugh. I didn’t mean
to, it was on the unflattering side as far as I was concerned. I sounded like a
baby harbor seal. I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle any further such
noise from trying to escape me.

Figures I’d become totally infatuated
with an establishment owned by a friend of his.

He laughed again, this time at my bark.
“Now, no more questions. Eat.”

I was nothing but questions. It wasn’t
as if I wanted to tell him about making a new friend today, for all I knew that
was just as taboo as wanting to be with Liam. If I didn’t ask, I couldn’t be
told no. Childish? Yes. Effective? For now. I wasn’t about to tell about the
tattoo either, just to be on the safe side.

It was hard to have a conversation when
questions were forbidden. I told Gideon that.

“Let me rephrase for you. No work
related questions.”

“Well, that doesn’t leave me with much.”
I sighed, dramatically, just for him. “Okay. Where are you from? What is that
accent?”

“I grew up spending time between
Scotland and Ireland, even in Wales some bit. My accent would be considered
Ulster Irish, for the most part. And you?”

He’d answered. I was slightly shocked. I
paused on his question, that was a weird one for me now. “Before? Or
after
?
I scoffed at him.

“Ah…touché.”

“Born in Northern California, moved to
Southern California. Most recently lived in Long Beach, spent a lot time in New
Orleans. Very recently had to relocate to Seattle.” I looked at him pointedly.
“Accent would be So Cal I guess. My turn. What was your favorite food when you
were a child?” I feigned a gasp and a look of faux pas. “Oops, my bad. Were you
ever a kid?”

 I tried not to smile or giggle.
Actually, I kind of did wonder if he’d ever been a kid or was just always
this
.

“Yes, smart ass, I’ve been a child. And
my favorite food was pasties. Chicken, beef, lamb…made no difference. We’d grab
them from the cooling rack my mum would place them on fresh from the oven, and
take them outside to eat as we played. I miss her little meat pies. What was
yours?”

“Pizza. My mom made the best pizza from
scratch. She’d make one every Wednesday night. Most people seem to have it on
Friday or Saturday, but she always thought it made the middle of the week
special. We’d have a pizza, snuggle on the couch and watch old movies until we
fell asleep.” I smiled at the sweet memory. I missed her. She’d been gone
nearly eight years now. I mentally shook myself. No time for that. Not right
now. This was actually fun, sitting here sharing a meal and just being normal
with him.

“That sounds nice.” He smiled at me
gently, and then added solemnly. “I’m sorry we took you from her.”

I shrugged.

“What’s done is done.” I wanted him to
sting the way I still did. But I couldn’t hold him responsible for that. I had
to amend my words. I shook my head. “It wasn’t you. She died about eight years
before…well…before me. And my Dad…I don’t remember him really. No grandparents
either. But if it’s okay, I’ll keep blaming you for not having friends
anymore…or my car.” I smiled. It was a weak one, but still a smile. I added
softly, “And I understand it wasn’t you. Anyway…next question.”

He contemplated me, his eyes roving my
face.

“Favorite mode of transportation?” I
asked, ignoring his searching look.

“Walking. I don’t get to do it often,
but I prefer it. I miss walking to the village the way I did in my younger
days.”

“In Ireland?”

“Aye. We lived not too far from a little
seaside village. Every month or so my brother and I would take what money we
had saved and make the trek to buy some sweets for our mum. It was beautiful
countryside.”

I could see him traveling back to that
time in his mind. His smile at the thought was something else. It made my heart
skip lightly, made me smile too. It was a rare look that crossed his face. I
liked it, Very much. It looked wonderful on him.

“Your turn.”

“Well, used to be that I’d say flying,
but…I think that’s changed to riding a horse.” I thought of Eyvindur and what
bliss I was in when we ran, when we flew. “What’s your favorite time of day?”

“Sunset. You?”

“Four o’clock in the afternoon.”

“That’s rather exact.”

“Well, you know, right there around
four, in the fall. It’s that really magical time of day, when the sunlight
turns this amazing color. It’s softer, more golden, and everything has
this…time of being more hushed for like, half an hour or maybe just a little
more. As if the world has set this time aside for less harshness, the way the
sunlight hits the leaves on the trees, the way it shines down and casts shadows
differently, settles over everything in a different way at that time. It’s so
unlike any other time of day. I can feel it…” I placed my hand on my chest, “as
it draws near. There’s a calm that steals over me, through me, and it’s as if
anything could happen, anything is possible for that time.”

BOOK: No Time to Cry (Nine While Nine Legacy Book 1)
4.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Murder by Proxy by Brett Halliday
Come by Becca Jameson
Trapped at the Altar by Jane Feather
Sensations by Tessie Bradford
Veiled by Karina Halle
Athena by John Banville
Breathe: A Novel by Kate Bishop