Page 3 of An Irish Hope

He turned away, but not before sneaking another look outside, catching a glimpse of the happy couple, kissing again.

Regrets chased him as he turned away. What was Greta doing now? Probably kissing her new husband, the new improved version she’d chosen after deciding the one she’d promised herself to for years wasn’t worth it after all. His heart wrestled with the ever-present temptation to wade back into the brokenness and the anger, or even the questions about what was wrong with him that she’d reject him so brutally. But no. He sucked in a deep breath, exhaled slowly. He’d spent too many hours with his therapist to wallow, and been reminded the only way to move forward was to let go of the past so he could embrace the future.

Wherever that was. Whoever that involved. No good would come of living in the past anymore.

He peeked outside one more time. It looked safe enough to venture downstairs now. And they’d been holed up here long enough. He glanced at Grady. “You ready to hit the walking trails now?”

“Are we walking the trails or running them?”

Andy tugged on his sneakers. “Running. Well, I am. You’re probably only going to jog them if history tells me anything.”

“Well, look who’s getting feisty at long last.”

Feisty? Please. He’d never been accused of that in his life. Maybe if he’d had more spirit then Greta—no. That was exactly where he wasn’t going to go again, remember?

He snagged his baseball cap and hurried down the stairs, determined to beat Grady—and the wedding guests. He wasn’t exactly dressed for mingling with the suits and gowns of the happy couple’s family and friends, and didn’t want to cause a scene. Especially not when he’d promised that he’d stay out of people’s way.

He reached the foyer, the thump, thump, thump of Grady hot on his heels behind him propelling him across the parquetry floor and out the main entrance. He rushed around the corner, then caught a glimpse of a woman wearing emerald green with startled eyes and red hair, before he slammed into her and knocked her to the ground.

CHAPTER TWO

Aisling struggled for breath, as she suddenly stared up at blue skies. What had just happened? “Blimey O’Reilly. What on earth—?”

Then a man’s worried face appeared. “I’m sorry. I’m such an eejit. Here, let me help you up.”

The man—the one from the window before—extended a hand.

She glanced at it, then him, then realised there was no real way she could stand up by herself without ripping her dress. And much as she didn’t want to, there was nothing for it but to accept his help.

She touched his palm, and sure enough, that same strange sensation she’d experienced before swept across her. But no. No, no. The man with whom she seemed to have an instantaneous bond couldn’t be so clumsy as to knock her down. That wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

He pulled her up, her too-tight dress protesting as a big ripping sound filled her ears.

“What the actual—?” She swallowed a word and glanced down—fortunately the bodice was still in place, but the side split had crept higher. Heat filled her chest. “You ruined my dress!”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Why weren’t you looking where you were going?”

His brown eyes studied her, he was biting his lip.

Well, so what if perhaps she should’ve been a little more careful too? “What are you doing here, anyway? The hotel is closed for a private function.”

“I’m, er, staying here.”

Great. So he was the mystery guest who’d cajoled Ash and Mam into staying while a family event was on. “Today is my brother’s wedding day, and you’ve just banjaxed it.”

“I’m so sor—”

“Sorry, I know!” she snapped. “Look, now I’ve got dust all over me!” She tried to brush it off, slapping it from her skirts, as clouds of dirt particles drifted into the air.

“Can I help?”

“What do you think you’re going to do? Beat the dust out of my dress while I’m still wearing it? No, you can stay away.” She stuck up a hand as he moved closer. “I don’t want you anywhere near me.” Her head started aching, and she touched the French roll which felt a lot flatter than before. Her breath hitched. “My hair!”

Another man came into view, glanced at her, glanced at the man. “You okay here, Andy?”

So that was his name. Well, if this man knew the klutz then he was likely equally bad. So she glared at him too.