Page 9

Briar

“ S hould we finish my order?” Lorcan lowered his glass from his lips. His brow furrowed over his darkened eyes. They were still handsome, but now stormy. All over a convict from generations ago?

Butterflies swarmed in my stomach, and I could hardly concentrate as I sat forward. I cleared my throat and pulled in closer to the laptop. “I’ll need your address and phone number.”

I keyed his information into the system. “Alright,” I said as I clicked the submit button. “It says it should be here next week, so I’ll call you when it arrives.”

Lorcan dipped his chin, pulling out his wallet. “Should I pay now?” He raised a brow, already unfurling a couple of notes.

“Cash?” A slight laugh rose in my throat. “It’s the twenty-first century. Who are you hiding from?”

His eyes danced with humor. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Heat coated my cheeks. “Sorry! It’s just something Amy and I say to each other. Can I blame the drinks for my lack of professionalism this evening?”

His lips curled at the corners, and his gaze bore into me, making my pulse race. “Just the drinks?”

I stared at him silently, hoping to pull him into another round of flirting… if it was flirting. I held my breath.

His lips twitched toward a smile, then he cleared his throat. He spoke with a note of genuine curiosity. “Why are you so invested in your mother’s project?”

I swallowed hard as my heart lurched. “My mother died. Two months ago. I promised to finish her work for her, and I’ve gotten nowhere.” My voice cracked. “It isn’t like I can just pick up and go to England. When you said you had studied the period, I was hoping…”

“Where would you look in England?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe there are records at the Old Bailey or the archives that aren’t digitized.

Or, I could find someone who is a family descendant who knows something.

Anything. I’m grasping at straws.” I took a moment to calm myself.

“I’m about to fail at my last promise to my mother.

” I blinked hard, my vision blurry from unshed tears.

Dammit, why did I start drinking before the store had closed for the evening?

His eyes fell to the journal between us before he stood, the chair creaking. “Maybe I can send you a few names. If all goes well, I might even dig up some resources in England—people you can contact to help fill in the gaps.”

I straightened in my chair, pressing my palms hard into the desk. “Any contacts or information you have would be helpful. Thank you.” I jutted my chin toward his empty glass. “Could I get you a refill?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “No. I should go.”

Disappointment flooded my chest. I guess he hadn’t been flirting after all. “Oh. Okay. Thank you for the order. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“Thank you, Briar. I look forward to seeing you again when I pick it up. And I’ll get that information to you.”

I smiled weakly. At least I would get to see him when the plant came in, and maybe, just maybe, he might know something useful that would help unlock my research.

I walked to the office door and held it open for Lorcan, the party instantly getting louder. As he stepped off the front porch, he looked over his shoulder, turned, and raised his empty glass. “Thank you for the drink. I had a lovely time.”

He held out his hand, controlled and businesslike, except when I took it, he drew mine to his lips and brushed my knuckles with them. My heart thundered against my ribs. This man…

“Goodbye, Briar.”

I followed him out and stood next to the firepit, the warmth of the flames licking at my cheeks, although my heart was cold. The strains of the folk singer echoed the melancholy I felt. I couldn’t take my eyes off Lorcan as he stepped away.

He walked over to a tray of empty glasses and deposited his glass with the others.

His shoulders rose and fell as he looked out beyond the edge of my house.

Why was he just standing there? If he wanted to leave, he should have gone.

My pulse quickened as he came back to me.

He stood close, the smell of the sea on his skin making my nerves jangle.

“You said this is a fundraiser tonight. Before I go, allow me to help.”

“What?” I tilted my head and looked into his eyes.

“When I pick up the plant, allow me to bring you five thousand dollars toward the garden.” His lips curled into a gentle smile.

I gasped. How could someone who didn’t even know me want to help so much?

I shook my head as my hand covered my chest. “That is way too much.” Truthfully, we could use it.

With the gathering having taken most of the money from the ticket sales, we risked not reaching our twenty-thousand-dollar goal, but we could always have another party.

He bit his lips together and shook his head. “It is a fundraiser. I insist.”

I raised my chin. “Two thousand and not a cent more.” I couldn’t believe I was turning him down, but he didn’t look like he had the money to spare.

His shoulders relaxed. “I will have it for you when I pick up the plant.” He held my gaze for a moment too long before his eyes darted to my lips.

I held my breath, lifting my chin a fraction.

He raised his hand toward my cheek before stopping and, with a heavy breath, letting it fall back to his side.

“I’m sorry I can’t do more to help you with your research, Briar.

There are just some things…” His gaze moved to the flames.

My heart skipped a beat. What did he mean? Did he know more than he’d said? What did he know that he didn’t want to share?

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. A resolute smile came to his lips when he opened his eyes again.

He nodded slightly, a polite gesture and nothing more.

“Thank you for your help, Briar. I’ll get you what information I can, and I’m delighted to donate to your cause.

Have a good night.” He turned on his heel, his shoulders hunching in.

I watched as he walked away through the black gates and into the night.

With each step he took, my heart sank. Walking away was a man who might be able to help me keep my promise to my mother, and who I found attractive after months of not noticing anyone.

But it was more than that; it felt like my future was walking out the door.

Amy came up beside me, handing me a drink. “Well, I guess that didn’t quite go how you wanted it to,” she said.

I took the Shiraz from her and took a sip. “No. No, it didn’t. I was hoping for a little more, but I guess not.”

Amy’s eyes opened in mock surprise. “What happened to the Briar I knew? The one who would chase him down?”

I chuckled, but it didn’t come from a place of joy. My stomach knotted. Maybe I had changed. Or perhaps he wasn’t the kind of man you could chase.

She pulled her brows together. “Did you ever figure out why he needs the old man saltbush?”

“He didn’t tell me. And it’s probably just as well. His business is his business—it isn’t something I need to worry about.”

Amy let out a soft scoff. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you look at somebody that way.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but stopped, the warmth in my cheeks betraying me. I took another sip of my wine, wondering if I could play off the flush as being tipsy. Maybe with someone else, but not with her. “And exactly what way is that, Amy?”

“You know—the whole flirting-with-your-eyes thing. He had you tongue-tied from the moment you met him. And I’ve heard John talk about what you can do with that tongue.”

“That would be why I’m no longer with John.” A slow burn rose in my chest. I brought the glass to my lips again, buying time, not wanting to continue this topic.

“But what about this guy?”

I shrugged nonchalantly, adjusting my tone so it was one of indifference. “Well, yeah, of course. I mean, he’s hot. Would I like to hook up with him tonight? Yes, but that isn’t what he wanted.”

“And you couldn’t even get him to stay for the party,” Amy teased.

I threw my free arm out, letting it drop to my side, the movement releasing the energy that had been bunching my muscles. I stared at the gates even though he was long gone now.

“He even had an interest in Georgian England.” I sighed.

“What?”

I turned to her. “Yeah. He saw my books, then said he’d studied the period extensively. What are the odds, huh? Hot and interested in history.”

But not interested in me.

Amy tilted her head. “Extensively enough to help you with your research?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.” A hollow laugh escaped. “Moot point.”

But something niggled at me. Some things he’d said. It felt like he knew something , something important that might help. If only Mum had been able to talk to him, she would have wrung it out of him. The weight of her absence pressed down on me.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” I mumbled.

Amy frowned. “What is?”

“That he’s not interested. I mean, the last of my family just died. How do I know I’m not just trying to fill the void she left?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

I took another sip of my wine. I was not chasing him. Not now. Not ever.