Page 56 of Chance of a Lifetime

Now what? He just had to waste a few more hours until early morning when it would be safe enough to take her home. He slowly walked down the flight of stairs and past the ancient motel pool. His phone beeped, and another angry text message popped up on his screen. Cora had tried calling him a couple of times during dinner, but he’d ignored her.

Thanks for sticking me with Finn and not even bothering to show up.

Liam crossed the street to the convenience store and slumped on a bus stop bench. It was as hard and unyielding as the final text from Cora.

Don’t bother asking me for any more favors.

She seemed to have given up on him. He couldn’t blame her. If only she understood what was at stake. If only he could tell her. By tomorrow, he’d have two women mad at him: Cora for abandoning him to the dullard, and Margaret for coercing her into a terrible dinner followed by a drunken crash in a cheap motel. Sooner or later Margaret was going to realize he’d never actually said he wanted to get back together with her. All he’d promised to do was explain things. He’d been purposefully evasive about their relationship, and the only reason she didn’t call him on it was because she’d been knocking back those drinks, and her mind had been fuzzy.

Cursing under his breath in frustration, he jerked upright on the bench and ran a hand through his hair. A fine kettle of fish he was in, and all because the angels had to be vague and secretive. He stood, pacing back and forth on the street, brooding, until he finally stretched out on the cold metal bench and tilted his face to the sky. No stars were visible. They were no match for the ambient city lights.

A sharp, bone-deep longing for home gripped him. He missed the cool, crisp air from the fields back in Ireland. The loamy scents of damp earth and woodsmoke and green things growing. He missed twilight when the fields and forest were bathed in shadows and everything, even the harsh realities of the dilapidated cottages and failing crops, appeared softer around the edges. Those moments at the end of the day, right before the evening shattered into a million stars, were Liam’s favorite. He would sit on the crumbling stone wall and imagine what it would be like to be anywhere else. To be someone else...