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He kisses our joined hands. “Even if they couldDoctor Whome for being with you, I’d not care. You and I could open a cheese and onion pie shop and golf in the Irish rain. That’d be my Heaven.”
“And mine.” We kiss deep and slow for a long time. “I thought we happened too fast, and it was all about impulse, not reality.”
“What are you thinking now?”
I smooth a strand of hair off his forehead. “I’m thinking that right here in my arms is a person who is genuine, who I can trust with everything I feel and dream and want.” I drop a kiss on each of his eyelids. “You are loyal and loving. Jack O’Leary, you are the creative partner I’ve always wished for. I tell my stories with words, and you tell yours by becoming the story itself.”
“And it doesn’t bother you that my career is about lies and pretend, even if I’m not.”
I shake my head. “You’re wrong. Your talent is about finding the truth of every character you inhabit.”
He takes my mouth with such passion that I claw at his back to bring him closer. Jack breaks the kiss, leaving me wanting. When I move in to continue, he slides his hands up the sides of my face.
“I’m smart with my money. I’ve got the place in Sneem that’s all paid off. It’s not big, but there’s plenty of land to add on to the house.”
My insides begin to bubble. I want this to be going where I think it’s going. I wish with all my heart and spirit for Jack not to stop.
His thumbs lightly trace my cheekbones as he continues. “It’s for me the way it is for you, love. My future must be with a partner who values a creative life above all else.” His grip tightens. “I won’t have you working in a shop, but I will have you writing all the stories that I know are swimming around in this darlin’ head. I’ll read every one of them in front of a roaring fire with you by my side.”
Jack’s face shifts into soft focus through the sheen of tears coating my eyes.
With that crazy strength of his, he lifts me to my feet but stays on one knee before me. “I never believed love could happen in an eye blink until I met you. There’s nothing I’ve ever been so sure of as you. Share this life with me Gillian Bettencourt, my perfect partner. I love you beyond dreams, beyond hopes”—he nods up to the hawthorn—“beyond wishing. Will you marry me?”
I drop onto his knee and throw my arms around his neck. “You’re it for me, Jack. I’ll marry you in this lifetime and all that come after.” I lean back to look at him. “You will never have to chase me like Nieve. I will know you in every time.”
He pulls us to our feet. “Oh, but you are my Nieve. The woman I’d woo a thousand times to keep by my side.”
Even the heat of our kiss can’t compete with the freezing wind that slaps against our naked bodies.
“Bugger it,” says Jack, yanking a blanket around us. He gestures to the hawthorn. “I think we’ve given the good people enough of a show for now.” I keep the soft wool cover while he gathers our clothes.
“Come here, darlin’,” says Jack, holding his arms wide for me to fold into before he relinquishes my jeans. I press against him while he raises his cell and snaps a picture of the hawthorn, its leaves etched in gold outline from the rising sun. He nuzzles my neck. “I never want to forget this brilliant dawn.”
Once dressed, I lean against the lichen-covered boulder, hugging arms to my chest. “So, tell me, love, what will out loud look like?”
“Blazing normal. I’ve heard that down Wicklow Way, Daniel Day Lewis still puts his own bins out on Thursdays.”
“I’m talking about the read through this morning.” A giant shiver blindsides me. Only part of it is from the cold. The rest is anticipating the fallout when our bomb detonates inside The Clan.
Jack drops the pile of sleeping bags and blankets he’d gathered to come wrap me in a hug. “It’s going to look grand.” He taps his temple. “I see how it is up here. Trust me.”
I put my trust into a kiss that could get us in trouble very quickly. Jack lifts me off my feet and carries me to his Renault at the bottom of the hill. It’s damn sexy to be carried in the arms of a Celtic god. Not so sexy the way he dumps me in the passenger seat.
“You stay here and quit tempting me with your magic, Witch, while I bring our baggage down.”
I admire all the parts of Jack pressing against his jeans as he moves up and down the hill. All the parts that now belong to me. Visions of our lovely red-headed babies who will grow up to be poets, painters, and storytellers, and call Jack “Da” twirl in my head.
He dumps our campsite into the boot of the car and slides behind the wheel but doesn’t move. His knuckles whiten.
“What is it?”
Creases line his forehead as he presses his lips together. “I haven’t got a ring for you. I should have planned better.”
“Yet. You haven’t got a ring for me, yet.” I lean over to capture his mouth with mine. “And you could not have planned last night any better.”
He beams at me. “God, I love you.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” I say, repeating his line.
