Sign of the Throne: Book One in the Solas Beir Trilogy (17 page)

“Carpe diem,” Abby said, laughing nervously, less because she was worried about death by Australian fauna and more because of her
awareness of how close he was.

David nodded
, “Exactly.” He took yet another step closer.

Abby felt her breath catch—he wasn’t touching her, but she could feel him. It was as if some kind of warmth radiated from him, washing over her skin, drawing her to him like the pull of a magnet.

“David!” Moira called as she emerged from the hallway, Cassandra at her side.

Abby suddenly felt awkward about David’s closeness and prayed he didn’t notice the sly smile that Cassandra was giving her. She also hoped he missed the brief scowl Moira directed at Abby before turning her attention back to David.

“It’s about time you came to see me, boy,” Moira said.

“Hello, Aunt Moira.” David smiled and stepped away from Abby. “You look lovely as ever.”

“You are a
terrible
liar. I’m old,” Moira replied, putting her hands on her hips.

“Well, you’ll always look lovely to me,” he said.

Moira smiled—a genuine smile. Abby was shocked. The woman was so cranky around her and the Buchans that Abby would not have believed her capable of that kind of affection. The smile actually softened her and took about twenty years off her face. There truly was something special about David Corbin.

“So, did Abby keep you entertained?” Cassandra asked.

“Most definitely.” David shot Abby a grin hinting at conspiracy.

As Abby returned his smile, she couldn’t help noticing that the smile on Moira’s face vanished.
Oh well, can’t win ’em all,
Abby thought. At least she had made progress with David.

“And I hope you are staying for dinner?” Cassandra asked.

“I’d love to. Thank you,” he replied.

“David,” said Moira, taking his hands in hers
, “we have a great deal of catching up to do.”

“Of course,” David smiled. “Why don’t we sit in here and talk until dinner is ready?” He led Moira to a comfortable chair in the living room, and the smile returned to her face.

“Cassandra, I’ll come help you,” Abby offered.

“Thanks—that would be great,” Cassandra said. “Could you round up the kids and get their hands washed? The meal is almost done.”

“Certainly.” Abby was glad to have an excuse to be out of the way and doing something productive. She was happy David had decided to stay, but she was unnerved by Moira’s reaction to her. It was frustrating that the woman despised her so much for no apparent reason.

As she shut the Buchans’ door behind her, Abby thought,
Overall, dinner went well
. David seemed to have worked his charm on Moira, and she tolerated Abby during the meal. Or at least she pretended like Abby didn’t exist instead of glowering at her. At any rate, it was an improvement. 

Everyone else had a wonderful time. Ciaran had insisted that Abby sit next to him, and David teased him about having an older girlfriend, which made the little boy giggle shyly. The children wanted to hear about all the animals David had seen in his travels, and he proved to be kind, patiently answ
ering their endless questions.

As Abby watched David interact with the Buchans, she came to realize that he wasn’t snobbish, like Jon had said. There was a part of him that was guarded in initial encounters with people, but another part of him was unexpectedly open and charismatic when he was in a comfortable setting. He was smart and witty, and Abby found herself liking him more and more.

After dinner, David had insisted on helping clean up, and then he offered to walk Abby home. Cassandra couldn’t resist giving Abby a knowing look, and Abby blushed, embarrassed but thrilled at the same time. It was incredibly difficult to play it cool around David when everything in her was drawn to him. She thought she did okay, accepting his offer with a nonchalant shrug, but even if he didn’t notice how appreciative she was to get some time alone with him, Moira did. The fiery look in her eyes said,
I may be old, but I’m not stupid.
There would be no winning the woman over, ever.

Abby felt relieved to be away from
Moira’s watchful eyes when they left the Buchans’ house.

David held the gate open for her and then latched it behind him.

“Thank you for walking me home,” Abby said.

“My pleasure,” David replied. “So where are we headed?”

“My house is on Orange Blossom Drive, just off of Continental.”

“Okay.” David turned and headed in the opposite direction.

Abby was confused. “Wait,” she called after him. “I’m sorry—my house is in that direction.” She pointed toward the eastern gate of Newcastle Beach.

“I know,” he said, continuing west.

“Okay...so why are you walking toward the beach?” Abby asked.

David stopped. “I’m not. I was going to grab my bike. Continental is way too far to walk in the dark.”

It
was
a long walk in the dark. And thinking about things that could be lurking out there made Abby shudder.

“And,” he continued, walking back to where she was standing, “there’s a cool breeze coming in from the sea. Look, you’re already shivering.” He took off his leather jacket and offered it to her.

“Touché. Thank you.” Abby put the jacket on. It smelled good—a mixture of butter-soft leather and aftershave. She followed him several streets down to a large Tudor revival not far from the inn. “Wow—your house is gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” David was busy punching in a code for the garage door. The door rose and a fluorescent light flickered to life. Abby followed him inside.

“That’s
beautiful
,” Abby breathed.

David could tell by the awe on her face and in her voice that she genuinely
liked the bike.
And
I genuinely like this girl,
he thought.
He met her eyes and smiled.

She smiled back shyly before returning her attention to his bike
.

The motorcycle was a carefully preserved 1961 Harley with clean, shining chrome. The gas tank and fenders gleamed electric blue in the bright lights of the garage. The simplicity in the design spoke of power and freedom without apologizing or overcompensating for anything.

David took a cleaning rag from the workbench beside the bike and reverently wiped away a smudge near the gas tank. He could sense Abby’s eyes on him and felt the exciting tension that seemed to be suspended in the air between them. He wondered if she felt it too.

He handed her a black helmet. “Here, put this on.”

“What about you?” Abby asked.

He tapped the side of his head. “Thick skull. Besides, if anything happens to you, Cassandra will kill me. Then your folks will kill me. Then Cassandra will kill me again. And I don’t see the point of putting my life in danger for no good reason.”

“Ha, ha. You’re not afraid of man-eating sharks, but a teeny little woman terrifies you,” Abby said, fastening the strap on the helmet.

“She may be little, but make no mistake—she could wipe the floor with me.” David straddled the bike and grinned. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” Abby slid the helmet’s visor down, and then settled in behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He could feel her warmth against his back. Having her so close to him, touching him, was electric. He just felt so aware of her, like the tension in the air had changed and become a tangible connection. David thought about her wearing his jacket and wondered if he’d still be able to sense her closeness later, when she gave it back and he wore it home. “Okay. Hold on tight,” he instructed. He started the bike and it roared to life.

Abby wrapped her arms around him tighter.

When he hit the gas, David felt her grasp loosen, like maybe she had been surprised by how powerful the bike was. For a second, he worried she would let go, so he placed his hand over hers, pulling her arms tight around him again. He didn’t want to let go of her hand—he felt a warm rush of heat where their skin touched. The connection between them grew.

David needed both hands to drive, so he squeezed her hand and let go. Abby responded by clinging even tighter to him, nestling against his back, her legs pressing against his thighs as she steadied herself. Heat washed over him in a wave. He felt his pulse race, and he wondered if he might catch fire. He didn’t think he would mind if he did.

He glanced back at Abby. She was holding him tightly, but she didn’t seem scared, so he cranked the throttle, taking things up a notch. He heard her laugh as the bike accelerated. Then she surprised him. She tapped his arm, pointed to the throttle, and gave him a thumbs-up.

He tilted his head back toward her so she could hear him over the roar of the motor. “Faster?”

“Faster!” she yelled, laughing.

David grinned to himself. As he turned onto Continental, he held the throttle down.

The ride was exhilarating—and over much too soon. Before he knew it, he was pulling into Abby’s driveway. She pulled off the helmet and set it on the back of the bike. She shook the tangles out of her hair, and then
stepped down.

David walked her to her door.

“That was fun,” Abby said. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Are you working at the inn tomorrow?” he asked.

“My schedule changed. I’m only there on weekends now,” she answered. “But I’ll be at the Buchans’ tomorrow afternoon, babysitting the kids.”

“Oh,” he said. “Well, maybe I’ll stop by.”

“I’m sure Moira would love to see you,” Abby commented. “The kids took a shine to you too.”

David thought about asking her if
she
had taken a shine to him as well, but that seemed too bold a move, considering she was talking about other people wanting to see him and hadn’t said anything about herself. It seemed like she had been flirting with him earlier, but he didn’t know her well enough to know for sure. Instead, he just smiled and said good night.

“I almost forgot,” Abby said. She took off his jacket and handed it back to him. “Thanks for letting me borrow this.”

“No problem,” David said. He watched her go into her house and shut the door. He slipped the jacket back on. He
could
still feel her. The jacket was warm, but there was more to it than that. It was
her
warmth, and her smell, light and clean, rather than heavy with perfume. He had to see her again.

Abby’s dream that night mirrored her time with David and spoke of things to come. She saw herself walking down a stone tunnel. There was something important she needed to do, but she couldn’t quite rememb
er what it was. She knew though that the tunnel led to a cavernous room with a cathedral ceiling where a large crowd had gathered, waiting for her to make an appearance on some kind of stage.

As she neared the tunnel’s exit, she saw David leaning casually against the wall, wearing his leather jacket and lookin
g intently at her.

“Come with me,”
he said. She took his hand, and he led her from the tunnel to the stage, then down steps into the midst of the audience. Abby hardly noticed the crowd surrounding her. Her eyes were on him, walking slightly ahead of her as he held her hand, weaving his way through the audience, guiding her through the crowd. A silver thread stretched from the center of his back to her chest.
Our souls are connected,
Abby thought, and woke up.

The next day, Abby was on babysitting duty again. Riordan was busy working on his book, and Cassandra had taken Moira shopping, so Abby was alone, watching the children. The afternoon was warm for autumn, and Abby decided to take the kids to the backyard to play in the sandbox.

Ciaran had knighted himself and Siobhan had proclaimed herself queen, donning a puffy pink concoction that resembled cotton candy fluff more than a dress, so Abby built them a sand castle. Unfortunately for them, Rowan had chosen to wear his dragon costume, and that spelled certain disaster.

There was little Rowan enjoyed more than destroying a freshly built sand castle, much to his older brother’s frustration. Ciaran was Rowan’s polar opposite—patiently constructing moats and walls, and painstakingly adding detail, inserting pebbles and sticks for decoration.

To keep the peace, Abby made up a game and recruited Ciaran to help her create a sand city so that Rowan and Siobhan could level it instead of Ciaran’s castle. Once Architect Ciaran declared the city finished, the two younger children became a pair of raging Godzillas, unleashing havoc. Siobhan’s dress and auburn ringlets became encrusted with sand, making her look like a grime-covered incarnation of the sugar plum faery. Due to his tendency to plow headlong into the buildings with a wide, open-mouthed grin, Rowan acquired a full, sandy drool beard, channeling his inner garden gnome.