Page 11

11

S omething changed between us during our argument on the beach. I can feel it as we walk together back to my parents’ house.

The sun has given Roan a deep tan. Despite his best efforts, I have a light sunburn. I’m just that pale.

I notice it in his manner. Roan is more relaxed, as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. I can’t make sense of it, but I like it. It really does feel like being with family.

Once we get back to the house, I take a quick shower, then head into the kitchen to wait while Roan showers in the guest bath and Dad uses the master bath.

“I hope they hurry,” Mom says, looking at the time on her phone. “We don’t want to be late to the restaurant.”

“I’m sure Roan will be down in just a minute,” I say, staring out the window at the gentle surf.

She gives me a questioning look. “How were things at the beach? You guys seemed…happy when you got back.”

I just shake my head. “It was fine. It does feel like there is something different, but I don’t know what.”

Mom smiles. “You’ll find out.”

I groan, leaning against the counter. “Men are complicated.”

She chuckles. “No, not really. As women, we just tend to read things and motives into their actions that aren’t there.”

I raise my eyebrow at her. “You’re letting men off the hook awfully easy, Mom.”

She shrugs. “No, men do the same thing. They look for things that aren’t there. They assume that women are more complex than they are, which isn’t usually the case. We just express our emotions differently. And those differences can lead to trouble.”

“If you say so.”

“It’s okay if you don’t see it now. You’ve got all the time in the world. If you’re interested in my opinion, your Roan is one of the good guys.”

“He’s not my Roan.”

“You know what I mean.” She looks at me. “You mentioned yesterday that Dad never liked any boy you brought home when you were younger. That doesn’t just apply to your father; it applies to me, too. I thought they were all awful.”

I look at her in surprise. “You never said anything. Why didn’t you like them?”

She wrinkles her nose in distaste. “Because they always made you feel like there was something wrong with you. They never gave you enough time to fall in love with them; they rushed things because they were afraid you might get tired of them. And you let yourself be taken along, maybe because you thought it had to be that way.”

She gives me a gentle smile. “You’re a go-getter in many ways, Jenna, but not when it comes to your heart. You need trust; you need time, and you need patience and understanding. But what you definitely don’t need is a man who is afraid that he won’t be able to keep you and therefore rushes everything.”

“Hmmm,” I say, chewing on my lower lip. Is my mom right about this? Have I always chosen men who tried to rush me into love?

“I’ve had a lot of time to study you.” She squeezes my arm. “You’re a great girl, a great woman, who I’m incredibly proud of. Don’t let yourself be bent into something you’re not, but also don’t be afraid to open your heart to someone if they deserve it.”

I don’t know how to open my heart, I want to tell her.

But before I can speak, Roan comes into the kitchen, his thick, auburn hair glistening with water from the shower.

“That rain shower is amazing, Meryl,” he says, smiling at my mom. Then he sees the look on our faces. “Everything okay?”

“Everything is great,” I say too quickly. “We’re just looking forward to dinner.”

Dad comes in a few minutes later, wearing a short-sleeved button-down shirt. “Shall we?”

“We’re just waiting for you,” says Mom with a smile.

“How lucky am I?” He reaches for her hand, and I let out a sigh. They are just so sweet.

The restaurant is only a few blocks away, so we decide to walk, enjoying the lingering heat.

“Your parents are cute,” says Roan as we walk slowly a few steps behind them.

I smile wistfully. “I know.”

“I like the way they treat each other,” he continues. “They are affectionate, they have fun together, but they aren’t afraid to have different opinions. You don’t see that enough anymore. People are so concerned that everyone thinks the same way as them. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? It doesn’t change anything, for example, that I hate avocado, and you don’t.”

I give a gasp of mock-horror. “You don’t like avocados? Now that I think of it, you didn’t touch the guac the other night! That’s it. Friendship over.”

He nudges me lightly with his shoulder. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.” His eyes return to my parents, who are holding hands as they walk down the street. “But seriously, you had a great relationship role model growing up.”

“What about you?” I ask. “What are your parents like?”

“They’re both great on their own, but the fire went out of their romantic relationship years ago. They’re more like roommates than soulmates.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say in a gentle tone.

He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s not that bad, really. They’re friends, good friends. But they’re no longer a real couple. I think I didn’t really notice until now because my uncles’ marriages are either also like that or already broken. I never saw anything better when it came to love before this.”

“They have to work on their relationship too,” I say. “Mom told me.”

He nods, shrugging. “Well, of course. Relationships are work. No matter what kind. Love relationships, friendships, everything. When you start to take the other person for granted, the end is near. But when you’ve found the right person, they’re worth showing you how important they are to you every day.”

“I think that’s a really beautiful attitude.”

He gives me a lopsided grin. “Beautiful? Really?”

“Yeah, you’re right. We live in a throwaway society. If something is broken or takes too much effort, it’s thrown away. We aren’t used to trying to fix something or to look past something that isn’t perfect.”

“Is that what you do?” Roan asks, eyeing me shrewdly.

“Do what?”

“Throw people away.”

I pause to consider. “I don’t think so. Maybe my ex-boyfriends felt that way when I broke up with them. Maybe one or two of the guys I hooked up with, too.”

“But did you intentionally throw them away after you were through with them?” he persists, pinning me with his gaze.

“Does it make a difference if I meant to do it, if that’s how they felt?”

“Probably not for them, but it shows me what kind of person you are,” Roan says simply.

Up ahead, Mom and Dad stop walking to chat with another couple. I stop, too, out of earshot of their conversation, and look up at Roan.

“I leave no doubt that I’m only interested in casual sex, as you know,” I say indignantly.

He crosses his arms, smirking. “Sure, but you only told me that after we’d had sex.”

I open my mouth, then close it again. “I was busy before that. But the way we met should have left no room for doubt.”

“It’s all good, you know. I didn’t feel thrown away.”

“So, what’s the problem? If a man reads more into a one-night stand than he was supposed to, then I’m sorry, but that isn’t my fault.”

“Is that what happened with your ex-boyfriends?”

“You want the whole messy story?” I ask. “Fine. I’ve had two major relationships. Each of them lasted a few years. My first boyfriend wanted to get married right after high school, have kids, all that suburban crap. I felt tied down by the relationship because he insisted, we had to see each other every day, and he didn’t like me spending time with friends. And there he was, talking about having our first kid when I was eighteen. I just couldn’t imagine that. I always knew I wanted to go to college.” I sigh. “He gave me a ring for my sixteenth birthday. I thought it was a promise ring. Turns out, he thought it was an engagement ring.”

“And what happened when he found out you didn’t think you were engaged?” Roan asks.

“After that, it didn’t work anymore. He wouldn’t or couldn’t give me any space. He was offended when I took any time for myself. And he was so passive-aggressive; he would give me the cold shoulder for days, sometimes weeks, and never bother to tell me why.”

“What finally ended the relationship?”

I wince. “Okay, it was probably assholish on my part, I’ll admit. I applied to a bunch of colleges without telling him. That wasn’t fair, but I was afraid of his reaction. The acceptance letters came, and then we graduated from high school together. The day after graduation, he asked when we were going to get married. I was totally blindsided. I blurted out that I’d already accepted a spot at university in the fall. He said he didn’t want his wife to go to college. I finally told him I didn’t want to be his wife at all. I finally realized that even though he loved me, he confused love with possession.”

I bite my lip, wondering if I should continue. No one, not even my mother, knows the next part.

“Then he slapped me in the face.”

Roan’s jaw tightens, and his whole body goes rigid.

“It wasn’t a particularly hard slap, but I’d never been hit before in my entire life. I was so shocked. And then I just thought that I had to get away. Away from his room, away from the relationship. Just away. He tried to stop me from leaving. Grabbed my arm. I panicked. I yelled that I’d kill him if he touched me again. He let me go, and I left,” I finish lamely.

“That is absolutely not okay. I don’t know this fuck-face, but I’m going to kill him,” growls Roan.

I pat his chest gently. “I saw him a year or two ago. He was out with a woman who I assume was his wife and three children. He looked very happy; his children were very well behaved. Super well-behaved. His wife, too. It was all very Stepford Wives . That’s when I realized what a bullet I’d dodged. And I wasn’t even mad at him anymore. I was just relieved.”

Roan is still scowling. “I can’t believe a man hurt you like that. If I’d been there…”

My parents have finished their conversation with the neighbor, and continue walking down the street toward the restaurant, but Roan and I hang back.

“So, you’re not the aggressive type when you’re angry?” I ask lightly, trying to defuse the tense situation.

He gives a short shake of his head. “Never, at least never to women. I’ll beef it out with my brothers and cousins from time to time, but…” He still looks upset. “And I’m also not the passive-aggressive type. I’d rather we argue in the heat of the moment than have someone not speak to me for weeks.”

“I can be a bit quick-tempered,” I admit sheepishly.

“I’ve noticed that,” he comments dryly before grinning. “It’s all good. It fits.”

“Okay.”

“And the other boyfriend?” he asks.

From up ahead, Mom calls out, “Are you coming?”

“Yes!” I call back, and we start moving again. I let us walk a moment in silence before beginning again.

“The other relationship was in college. It was kind of the same thing, only different. He wanted us to move in together really fast, but then he never wanted to go out or do anything. He tried to keep me from my friends. He tried to act like it was because he was too mature for the college crowd, but now I realize he was just super controlling. But for some reason, I stayed with him for almost four years until finally, I woke up one day and realized I couldn’t do it anymore. I didn’t want that kind of life. And I don’t want another relationship like that. I don’t want to be controlled. I need space. And at the moment, that means having fun and not being tied down.”

Roan nods in understanding. “That makes sense. And how did you break up with him?”

I shrugged, my shoulders sagging under the memory. “I went to him and told him that he just wasn’t right for me. He couldn’t understand at first; he tried to convince me to stay, but it was already over. I should have ended it a long time before I did. I feel bad now. But…” I sigh helplessly. “I didn’t want to hurt him because he kept telling me how much he loved me. I gave him false hope the whole time.”

Roan nods. “I mean, sure. That’s one way to look at it. But the way I see it, he could have noticed that you weren’t happy. He could have made some effort to change his behavior before it was too late. Maybe he should have tried a little harder.”

I give him a small smile. “Thank you for saying that. I still feel like I haven’t exactly earned a gold medal in relationships.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “You ended the relationship properly, you didn’t send a text, you didn’t call, you didn’t cheat. That shows decency and respect. People make mistakes in relationships. That’s just human nature. Now you know not to let yourself be taken in by men who are just looking to control you.”

“And if I can’t do that?”

“Of course you can. Understanding your past mistakes is the first step. Now you can build on that foundation. And now I know that I might have to help you to open up sometimes because you don’t trust people very easily.”

“Good luck with that,” I say wryly, but I can’t help but grin.

We arrive at the restaurant, where Mom and Dad are already waiting outside.

“Shall we?” asks Mom with a smile and a knowing look at Dad.

Inside, the waitress greets Mom like an old friend, which she probably is, and we are shown to an outdoor table at the edge of a marble terrace with a breathtaking view of the Gulf of Mexico.

I can understand now why my parents decided to move here. It’s perfect for when you need to slow down and enjoy life.

“So, Roan, why don’t you tell us about your family?” Mom asks him after we’ve ordered drinks and food.

Roan smiles, looking comfortable and confident as ever. It’s clear that he enjoys talking about his family, and I wonder again what it must be like to have such a big extended family.

“Well, I have two brothers,” he begins, leaning back in his chair. “The older one, Cian, owns the pub where I cook. The younger one, Eoin, is training to be a firefighter. My mother is a housewife, and Dad is a carpenter. Mom has two brothers, both of whom have their own kids. So, it was nine cousins growing up together, almost like a gang.” He chuckles at a private memory. “The O’Briens against the rest of the world. We tried to enforce our Walsh surname, but since the O’Briens outnumbered us, it didn’t quite work out.”

Our drinks are served.

“That sounds like a big family,” says Mom.

Roan nods, sipping his drink. “And that’s just the core. Dad also has siblings with children, and we get along with them too, even though we see them less.”

“Were there a lot of arguments growing up, with so many kids?” Dad asks. He’s an only child, just like me, and the complications of sibling dynamics are a total mystery to him.

Roan laughs. “All the time! Eoin and I fought constantly when we were kids. And now we live together, so we still fight. There’s always some kind of drama going on.” He grins. “But no, the only really serious arguments happen with people outside the family. Or people inside the family who seriously mess up.” He gives me a pointed look, and I understand he still hasn’t forgiven Cillian.

“Do you get along well with your brothers? I have two sisters who are my best friends,” says Mom, just as our food is being brought in. My mouth waters at the sight of my grilled swordfish.

“It’s the same with us. They are some of my best friends.”

“That’s nice. I always wanted that for Jenna too,” explains Mom, “but unfortunately it wasn’t possible. But thankfully, she has Nina. Have you met Nina yet?”

“Oh yeah, we’ve met all right,” says Roan with a laugh.

I grin. “Don’t say it like that.”

Mom looks from me to him and back to me. “What does that mean?”

I roll my eyes because, of course, now I have to explain that Nina met him for the first time while he was buck-naked in my apartment, which will lead them to believe that we are more than friends after all.

But I don’t want to lie either.

“Nina burst in when Roan was naked,” I say shortly.

“Naked?” mom asks, her eyebrows going up. “Why was he naked?”

Dad shakes his head, snorting in amusement. “Honestly, why do you think, Meryl?”

Her cheeks go pink as she understands. “Ah. I see.” She takes a dainty sip of her wine. “I thought you two were just friends.”

“We are,” I insist. “Ever since then.”

“So, the sex wasn’t good?” she asks.

I stare at her in horror. “Wow, Mom! Invasive much?”

She ignores me and looks at Roan. “No?”

“You don’t have to answer that,” I tell him, while he says, “It was spectacular. At least for me.”

I roll my eyes in annoyance, my cheeks on fire. “Mom, that’s enough. Really.”

She smiles at me and pats my hand. “I’m only joking.”

“Leave it, please.”

“Young people are pretty uptight these days, aren’t they, Bill?” she asks her husband.

“I can understand if Jenna doesn’t want to discuss her sex life with her mom,” he replies.

“Don’t worry. I don’t mind,” Roan says. I kick the rotten traitor in the shin, but he only gives me a cocky grin.

And I swear. Something in that grin makes my panties disappear into thin air.