Page 7

Lorcan

W hat was I doing? I had come here to purchase the old man saltbush, then leave.

The last place I wanted to linger was here, yet she intrigued me.

She stood almost five feet six, with soft, wavy, light brown hair that framed the smooth, luscious, sun-bronzed skin of her oval face—skin that spoke of countless hours outdoors, even though it glowed with a dewy softness I longed to feel under my touch.

Her brown eyes held both a lightness and a sadness that almost seemed to match my own; that of a family lost. Her lips, painted a deep wine red, rested softly together, with just a hint of space between them.

She moved with an effortless grace, drawing me toward her.

I hadn’t wanted to speak to anyone, yet here I was, fixated on a woman whose spirit was almost magnetic with a familiarity I couldn’t ignore.

The fire warmed my skin as we passed it, a sharp contrast to the chill of the night air, while the logs cracked and popped, sending tiny embers spiraling to the sky.

I kept my senses heightened, hearing every word from every conversation.

Several hundred years ago, if I were at a party like this, I would allow my senses to dull, relax, and enjoy the merriment with my brothers.

Inevitably, I would find some woman whom I could take away from the main group and enjoy the feel of her lips, but more importantly, the taste of her blood on my tongue. Gone were those carefree days.

The mingling scents of warm bodies, laughter, and clinking glasses grew oppressive, stirring something dark within me. The chatter blurred into an unsettling hum, pressing like a warning. It was a good thing I’d already fed today, or this might be a problem. My bloodlust was under control for now.

Why did Briar want me to stay for this party?

Why did I want to stay? Around me, the laughter swelled as more people arrived.

Every time I turned my head, it felt like there was more noise and more people than I had seen in a long time.

I breathed steadily. It wasn’t the party I didn’t want to leave. It was Briar.

I followed her quick stride down a path toward a glass structure nestled close to a fence.

The chatter didn’t diminish back here; the pathway was lined with people.

Another smaller fire drew revelers close while the sounds of vehicles driving by on the other side of the fence joined the cacophony.

Sound crushed me, reminding me I had never been an extrovert but merely more tolerant.

I wanted to retreat, to be alone. If my mother were here, she would chastise me. “ Lorcan,” she would say, “ you need to talk to people. I didn’t raise you to be inhospitable and sit by yourself.”

Of course, if my mother were here, I would listen.

When my mother was with me, my life was different.

I had my family—my brothers—and we would attend the parties together, carousing among the women.

The alcohol flowed freely, and so did the blood.

Those were times of joy and happiness. I would never want to forget them or change them.

If I had met her then, would Briar be one of those women? Or would she be the only woman?

Mine.

The thought gave me pause, making me blink. I had never sought any woman in that way. But he had. Before I could process it any further, the greenhouse loomed, and I hastened my pace to open the door of the darkened building for Briar.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice surprised.

“My pleasure.”

The building was larger than I expected for the location.

Several trees stood in the center, with native plants and herbs surrounding them.

Concrete pathways wandered through flowers and fruit trees.

The few remaining people in the building stood together, not moving.

The offending bar and ice machine occupied the only open space.

“Sorry, everyone.” Briar’s voice rang through the air. “We’ll get this fixed in a minute.”

I pressed my lips together. Aside from no power, a sharp, acidic aroma reached me. I watched Briar as she felt her way past the bar and started down the path to the right. “Watch out,” I called out as she approached a plant that had fallen across the walk.

“What?” She stopped and turned back toward me, but her eyes looked at an empty space to my right, making me smile. Without a light, she could see nothing. She started toward the back of the greenhouse again, creeping until her lower leg touched the leaves. “Thanks.”

She inched her way around it, then straightened.

“Lorcan? Did you bring a phone with you? I left mine in the office, and I can’t see a damn thing back here.”

I didn’t need the flashlight from my phone to help, but I switched it on for her, then joined her. “What’s the issue?”

She had moved a few potted plants and now crouched in front of a fuse box, her brow furrowed. I sat on my haunches next to her, her soft perfume filling my nostrils and making my heart quicken.

“I think a switch has tripped.”

Her hair brushed my cheek as she leaned to the side, and my skin tingled at the touch. I closed my eyes, taking a calming breath.

She snapped a switch, and immediately, the fairy lights strung around the building threw a silver hue over the plants.

“Is everyone alright?” Briar stood.

I followed her back to the main group. There, she touched arms softly, ensuring all her guests were comfortable. Why did I feel like I had seen her do this before, although I had never met her? I stood back, memories lingering just out of my grasp.

After ensuring the last group of people was fine, she walked back to me, running her hand along the dark bartop as she approached.

“How did you see that plant?” She barely finished the question before she turned to see the damage.

“Oh, no. Not the Mount Blackwood Holly.” She ran to it, kneeling beside it to lift it.

“Be careful of the glass,” I said.

The large bush lay on its side, its spiny green leaves creating a dramatic backdrop for the scarlet flowers. Beside it lay broken glass from where the ceramic pot had smashed a wine bottle, the liquid now soaking the soil.

“My mother gave this to me as a gift when I first opened the center. If I leave it like this, it’ll be damaged.

” Briar’s voice rang with sadness. “I’m going to have to get a cart and get it back to the office to clean the roots and repot it.

Normally, I’d do it here, but…” She waved her hand, indicating the people who had ventured into the relit space.

She sighed, her eyes darting around. “Where’s the barman? I need to get this glass cleaned up.”

“Let me help you.” I started picking up the dark green glass littering the floor.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

I smiled. “I won’t.” I dumped a handful of glass into the bin next to the bar and returned to the task.

“I’ll get a broom.” She disappeared to the back of the space again, returning to clean the smallest shards I couldn’t get, before she returned the broom.

“Could you help me set this up, then I’ll go get the cart? Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” I said. “But why don’t you let me just carry it? We don’t need a cart.”

I stooped and righted the plant, the aroma of the wine washing over me, then picked the pot up. “Lead the way.”

I followed Briar back to the office. As we got near, she pointed at a bench running along the side of the building with a hose nearby. “I’ll clean it over there.”

I carried the plant to where she indicated and wrestled it from the pot, shaking as much dirt from the roots as I could as she turned on an overhead light.

She moved toward me, reaching for the hose.

I stepped in, stopping her hand. “Why don’t you let me?

” I glanced at her cream-colored shirt that accentuated her figure. “Your clothes.”

She smiled, handing me the hose. “Thanks.” She took a step back. “I appreciate it.”

She watched as I cleaned the soil from the roots and trimmed a few that had been damaged in the shock of the fall, then I rinsed the pot and replaced the plant.

I glanced around the bench and located a bin of soil.

In minutes, the plant sat nestled in new compost. I cleaned my hands in the water from the hose, the tang of the earth and damaged leaves vying with the soft perfume of her skin.

“Thank you.” Her voice was soft as she spoke, and her smile lit up her face. “I didn’t mean to put you to work.”

“I volunteered.” I stopped myself from brushing her arm with my fingers. She held a beauty I hadn’t seen in a hundred years, and my heart raced as I looked into her eyes, her pupils dilated.

“How did you know…?”

The corner of my mouth tilted up. “I came here to buy a plant. Remember?” It was the best I could come up with because the truth wasn’t an option.

“Well, um…” She broke away from my gaze. “Why don’t you go into the office, and I’ll get us a drink each. What would you like?”

“Irish whiskey?”

“Sure.”

Opening the door to the office, I let myself in and closed it behind me.

There was something about her, something that put me at ease even amid a crowd that overwhelmed me.

And here, her presence lingered like the sea fog that clung to the cliffs on éire’s shores.

Could I? I closed my eyes. Could I let someone into my life?