Page 15

Briar

I t wasn’t quite dusk yet, and I wasn’t ready to close, but Amy had brought over a bottle of wine, and after the day I’d had, I needed it.

We sat in the Adirondack chairs while the fire in the pit snapped softly, sending fragrant wisps of smoke into the cool evening air.

The aromas of cedar and salt blended with the sweet fragrance of flowers and wine, creating an intoxicating perfume.

After meeting with Amy in the coffee shop, work had consumed every minute.

Even now, I feared a last-minute customer would appear on the path.

The idea of selling the necklace still lingered in my mind.

My throat tightened, the fear I would fail my mother hollowing my stomach.

I sat forward and set my wine on the stone ring of the firepit as footfalls reached my ears.

“Time to head back to work,” I said, throwing Amy a quick eye roll before I stood and straightened the band of my black pants.

A smile tugged at my lips as I looked up when Lorcan emerged between the trees lining the path.

I took a step toward him. “It’s good to see you again.” My heart fluttered as I tucked a stray hair behind my ear.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided smile, making my stomach clench. “Hopefully, seeing me with my clothes on is okay.”

Heat flared in my cheeks, and I struggled not to glance away from his steady gaze.

“What?” Amy sputtered. From the sounds she was making, she had almost choked on her wine at Lorcan’s statement.

I waved a hand to dismiss the memory, but couldn’t contain my grin. The image of his body came to mind, causing a stir between my legs. I spoke to her over my shoulder. “Lorcan was having a swim when I dropped the bush off, and I may have rocked up at the wrong time.”

“Well, that sounds like a story for later,” Amy said.

“Oh God, where’s my wine?” I gave her a playful glare through my eyelashes, lunging to retrieve my glass from the edge of the firepit before returning to Lorcan. “I’m sure you didn’t come over to discuss that.”

“Not really.” He lifted his hand so I could see the leather-bound tome he grasped.

I wanted to shriek like a schoolgirl, but pushed it back down in my chest. He found it! I gestured toward the porch with a nonchalance I didn’t feel. “Amy can watch the fire. Would you like a drink?”

He shook his head. “No, thank you. I can’t stay.”

Disappointment flickered through me, though I tried not to let it show. The memory of him kissing my hand in the doorway flooded my mind, making my heart race.

I led him to the two rocking chairs on the veranda of the office, painted white to contrast with the wooden exterior. I sank into the one farthest from the door, the chair rocking back as I sat. The sensation brought a sense of calm that conflicted with the knot in my stomach.

“I told you I would bring this by.” He held out the journal. Streaks of age ran through the brown leather. A strap wrapped around it, holding it closed, and the edges of the cover worn to a shade lighter than the rest.

My glass clinked as I set it on the table between the two chairs before I took the soft leather into my hands.

I opened the book and ran my fingers across the yellowed pages, taking a deep breath to counter my rising heart rate.

I wanted there to be something, anything, in this book to tell me where to look for records on Lady Isobel.

I raised my gaze to Lorcan’s eyes, remembering his words.

He wasn’t proud of his O’Cillian heritage, yet he had just handed it to me so I could learn my family’s story.

“Thank you,” I whispered, resting the closed book on my lap. “I know how hard this must have been for you.”

Lorcan nodded before studying his shoes. “You’re welcome.”

I ran my finger along the cover before moving the journal to the table.

“I’m sorry for asking you to share an unwanted history.

Can I ask why something that happened generations ago is so bad?

I mean, Lady Isobel murdered someone, and here I am, trying to learn.

” A thought flickered in my mind, and I swallowed.

“Of course, I couldn’t imagine what would happen if I ever met Ashdowne’s descendants. ”

I rested my gaze on him as he clasped his hands together. “The Clan O’Cillian wasn’t quite what I thought they’d be.”

“Why not?”

He let out a long sigh, shifting his focus to the horizon. His words were soft, with a feeling I couldn’t quite place. “I thought they’d be kind and generous, caring for each other and their family. But it turned out not to be the case.”

“How so?” I probed for a preview of the journal.

The edge of his shoe caught on the porch wood, the scraping sound filling the silence as he bit the inside of his cheek. “It was just some reading I did later about the family. There seemed to be a falling out. They weren’t as close as even that journal portrays.”

“That’s it? I don’t think—”

His jaw tightened as he stared at his hands, clutching each other, his knuckles white. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I looked at the flames rising over the stones, picking up my glass again, tracing the stem with my fingers, the silence between us making it difficult to breathe.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him rock back, placing his hands on the arms of the chair. “Well, I should—”

“Lorcan, when you get back—”

He abandoned standing, his eyes snapping to mine, softening. I could have sworn there was a flicker of regret before the clear ocean blue became cloudy. “I’m not coming back, and you shouldn’t wait for me.”