Sheer Luck (19 page)

Because I was shaking, I slammed the glass
back and hissed at the burn.

“Yes, I knew.” He sighed. “I didn’t want you
to read too much into it. You were finally starting to come
around.”

A growl rumbled my chest. “
The curse is
gone
, you said.
When are you going to start dating
again
, you said.
Why not Sierra
, you said. When all this
time you sat back and watched me put her in the crosshairs. All
this time you knew it wasn’t over.”

“It is...” Declan cursed and went back in
the kitchen. He returned with the bottle of whiskey and traded it
for the glass clenched in my hand. “Sit down. Calm down.”

“Don’t fucking tell me to—“

“I’d never hurt Sierra. Hell, man. I’d never
hurt you.” My brother’s green eyes, lit with fury and frustration,
bore into me. “It’s over. Do you really believe I’d pressure you to
move on if I didn’t know it was true? After watching what Amy’s
death did to you...” He grabbed the bottle from me, took a healthy
chug, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Damn, Aiden. You all but
died, too.”

I snatched the bottle and moved to the
couch, dropping onto the cushions. Swallowing more than three
fingers, I relished the burning path to my stomach. “I loved Amy
and all it got her was six feet under and a generic tombstone. And
as if I didn’t know better, I fell in love with Sierra. There’s a
special place in hell for guys like me.”

He sat on the other end of the couch and
faced me, arm draped over the back. “You’re a good man, Aiden, a
good father. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong. You’re human.”

“Human.” My laugh was so dry sand spit from
my mouth.

I downed more whiskey, but it only amplified
the guilt churning in my stomach. I set it aside and leaned
forward, palms shoved into my eye sockets. Just hours ago, I’d been
happy. Free. Thinking about a future. Christ. How fast things could
go damn sideways. Upside down. All wrong.

I’d had Sierra in my arms. She was embedded
in my heart. Extracting her would be impossible, but I had to.

Declan sighed. “You don’t have to do
that.”

I hadn’t realized I said anything aloud, not
that it mattered. “Yes, I do.” I had to keep her safe, away from
me. The alternative was too horrific to contemplate.

Instead of meeting at her place tomorrow to
sneak in a little fun before work, talk about plans, I’d be
amputating her from my life. And that was...unimaginable.

Damn it. I’d promised her she’d always have
us. She had little to no one else and we’d been her family for all
Liam’s life. Perhaps we could work out a custody arrangement until
emotions weren’t so raw. Which would be in about, say, a
millennium.

My brother sighed. “Dad met and married
Cathy in a day.
A day
. In Vegas. She’s twenty years younger
than him, never mind moved away from her whole family to come here
on a whim.” He leaned forward. “Try to look past your panic to see
the situation for what it is—two people who just aren’t compatible,
who made a mistake.”

I rolled my shoulders. His argument had
merit, but I wouldn’t risk Sierra because my brother had a point.
There was no proof he was right, and aside from him handing me
something concrete, it appeared the past six days of paradise was
all I’d get. More than I deserved.

Declan picked up the bottle and stared at
it, his gaze contemplative. “Not so long ago, it was you coming to
my place because I was in a similar situation with Lily. We got
shitfaced on whiskey.” He set the bottle on the table. “Neither of
us knew what to do, and it wasn’t until I walked into your pub that
the answer smacked me upside the head.”

His serious gaze met mine. Held. “Love is
the ultimate risk, especially for O’Learys. It’s also the only true
reward. I made the right call choosing to be with Lily. My sun
rises and sets with her.” He glanced away. “Sierra could be hit by
a comet tomorrow or pass away in her sleep in eighty years. None of
us knows what’s going to happen. Curse or no curse, you know better
than anyone how fast life can be taken away.”

He rose and walked to the door. Hand on the
knob, he turned. “I can’t tell you what to do, Aiden, no more than
you could for me. But...” His eyes shone with unshed tears. “You
have no idea how good it was to see you with her, to see you
happy.”

I stared at the door after he’d left, a
complete mess. Fisting my shaking hands, I rode out the adrenaline
crash. Shock settled in and I tried to prepare myself for what came
after. Pain. Regret. Loss. Feelings I’d lived with for too long.
Thing was, I wouldn’t have Sierra this time around to pull me
through.

The downshift of emotions over the past few
days were jarring. Brutal. And worst of all, Liam was going to be
affected, something I’d done my damndest through the years to
avoid.

Rising, I walked to the fireplace mantle and
glanced at the photos. To remind myself or punish, I wasn’t sure.
For Liam’s sake, and because she should be remembered, a picture of
Amy, smiling, eight months pregnant, was right next to a picture of
Declan and I the day my pub opened, arms around each other. There
was a photo of my mother, who’d died in a car wreck a year after
delivering my brother. A few shots of my dad, all with Liam.

And there...last one on the right was
multi-frame with Sierra. One of her feeding Liam baby food in a
high chair, strained peas coating her hair and dripping from my
kid’s cherubic face. The other was the two of them asleep on the
couch from a couple years back. Liam had the flu and I’d come home
to both of them curled on the sofa, zonked out, Liam’s head on
Sierra’s shoulder and her arms around him.

Without taking my eyes off the picture, I
pulled my cell from my pocket and dialed Declan’s home number. Lily
answered after two rings.

“Hey. Are you all right?”

“No.” Sierra’s grinning face kept me
riveted, awash in a hell I’d created. I’d never be okay again. I
cleared my throat. “Can I talk to Liam?”

“Sure.” There was some fumbling on the other
line and Liam’s voice offered a greeting.

“Hi, kid. I’m sorry about before.” I ran my
hand through my hair. “I got some bad news and didn’t handle it
well. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay.” I could almost hear his
shrug.

“Do you want to come back home tonight? I
could pick you up...” My gaze shifted to the whiskey bottle and I
recalled how much I drank. “In a couple hours.” After I had two
cups of black coffee.

“Naw. Uncle Declan’s gonna take me to school
tomorrow. I’m helping Aunt Lily feed the twins. She promised me
cake after dinner.”

I laughed, and the noise got caught in my
throat. “I’ll make it up to you this weekend. We’ll do something
fun.”

“Awesome. Can Sierra come, too?”

I flinched, slamming my eyes shut.
“I’ll...ask her.”

“Oh, gotta go. Meagan’s crying. Did you know
she can eat two whole ounces more than Donovan?”

My smile fell flat. I remembered that bottle
phase with Liam. Sierra used to hum and rock him as he ate. I shook
my head. “I didn’t know that. Listen, brush your teeth and shower
tonight, okay. I’ll pick you up from school tomorrow and go in late
to work.”

“Okay.”

I wished he was here but, with my mood, he
was probably better off in my brother’s hands tonight.
And the
worst parent of the year award goes to
... “Love you, kid.”

“Love you, too.”

As silence wrapped around me, I felt at an
utter loss. I couldn’t hold onto a tangible thought. Finally, I
gave the hell up and snatched the whiskey off the table. I headed
for the bedroom and one night of oblivion.

Except the whiskey couldn’t erase the scent
of Sierra on my sheets.

W
ith the hangover
from hell, and on the one day of the year I despised with the ice
of a thousand glaciers, I knocked on Sierra’s apartment door. St.
Patrick’s Day would forever go down in my mind as not just a crappy
holiday for my family, but the fucking worst holiday in the history
of existence.

My gut turned over as I waited for her to
answer, my prepared speech rambling in my mind. Christ, I despised
myself right now. She would too in about five minutes.

The door swung open and she stood at the
threshold, wearing jeans and a loose green sweatshirt with a
shamrock on it. Damn it all to hell. Her grin blinded me. Grabbing
my hand, she pulled me inside and shut the door.

“I have the best news.” She bounced on her
toes. “The hospital just called. I got the job. Monday through
Thursday, thirty-two hours a week, full benefits. Can you believe
it? Best of all, I can still be around on Friday and Saturday
nights for Liam.”

I forced a smile and I think my face cracked
as a result. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations. When do you
start?”

“Next week.” Her blue gaze swept over me,
taking in my sweats, T-shirt, and sunglasses. I hadn’t shaved and
I’m sure my hair looked like a weed-whacker had assaulted the
strands. Her smile slipped, degree by degree. “What’s wrong?”

Yeah, that. Except words failed me and I had
to swallow a damn sob. I glanced at the ceiling, grateful for the
dark lenses hiding my eyes.

“Aiden?” Christ, that frenetic quiver in her
voice was like a razor.

I blew out a breath and looked at her. Damn
hard to do, too. “We...this relationship isn’t going to work
out.”

She froze. A barrage of emotions swam in her
eyes, there and gone too fast to keep up. After several
tense-filled beats, she whispered, “Why?”

Rubbing the back of my neck, I stared at the
floor, unable to stomach the way she was looking at me. “Dad’s
getting a divorce. The curse isn’t gone.” When she said nothing, I
peeked at her and found her eyes wet. “I can’t...I’m sorry, Sierra.
It doesn’t change anything else. You still have us, me and Liam,
but the romance end of things needs to end.”

And hell, the tears fell, trekking her
cheeks in tandem. “You’re scared, I understand that, but that’s no
reason to break things off.”

“You’re damn right I’m scared!” I pinched
the bridge of my nose and forced my tone back to normal. “I’m
scared to damn death of you ending up like Amy, my mother, my
grandmother, a plethora of aunts, and every other female who’s
crossed an O’Leary path.”

Unable to stop myself, I strode to her and
cupped her damp cheeks, made myself look into the eyes that saved
and wrecked me. “You mean everything to me. Please, try to
understand,
aingeal
.”

“I understand perfectly.” Her voice quivered
but, for the first time in memory, those warm blue eyes froze to
arctic. She stepped out of my grasp, and my hands slapped to my
thighs. “I mean, really. I was stupid to think, for once, things
could be different.”

I was pretty sure I’d need internal stitches
after that. For her to think she wasn’t good enough or that this
was about anything other than me trying to do the right thing...
No. “Sierra.”

She shook her head. Wiped her cheeks.
“Please, just go.”

Fucking hell. What was I supposed to do
here? “Sierra,
aingeal
.”

“Don’t call me that.” She covered her mouth
with a shaking hand. “Go, Aiden.”

I scrubbed my hands over my face and
conceded, walking out of her apartment. I don’t know how I managed
it. In a few days, I’d come see her again and try to get the
friendship back on track. If not for me, for her. For Liam. I was
the idiot who’d screwed up and couldn’t let them suffer because I
dared to...hope.

Climbing in my truck outside her building, I
stared out the windshield. We’d hit a warm spell, the temps
reaching the sixties and the sun blazing in a cloudless sky. Though
very early, spring was coming and buds were beginning to emerge on
the trees. A beautiful day, all things considered. It was as if the
universe was giving me the middle finger. I slammed my fist on the
steering wheel a few trillion times. My hand didn’t thank me. And
it did nothing to quiet the riot in my head.

With my mind in a fog, I headed to the
florist and ordered ten bouquets of pink lilies. I paused over what
to write on the card, and settled on,
Congrats on the new job.
We’re so proud of you. Liam & Aiden.
I paid extra to make
sure they’d be delivered to Sierra today.

I was an asshole and deserved every bit of
misery I was feeling. Like walking into my house and remembering
her, asleep on my sofa while waiting for me to get off work just
about every night. Or her holding my kid on his first birthday
while my family sang over a clown cake. Or the pictures she’d
colored with Liam that were hanging on the fridge. Or the blanket
she’d bought me two years ago for Christmas that was draped over a
chair. Or the kitchen table, shower, and bed, where we’d made love.
She was everywhere.