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“Cool beans.” Sadie pops off the wall and pretends to have wings, sailing into the living room, where her favorite show blares from the tele.
“How was your day?” Ewan asks me.
“Good. I didn’t mention to my boss yet that I was leaving. I’m sorry. It was busy.”
“No problem. I didn’t book the flight yet.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any rush.” I lift my nose and inhale. “What’s that delicious smell? Is my mum back already?”
“No. I didn’t hear anyone mention what’s for dinner. So, I stopped at the market, grabbed a nice piece of beef, cut up some onions and carrots, and let it sit for a few hours in a pot I found. I figured with your ma gone, your da and you would probably be too tired to cook.” His smile stops my heart.
Tall.
Gorgeous.
Great in bed.
And can cook?
Why is this man single?
“Where did you learn to cook?” I can’t get over the smell and feel jealous of whoever is lucky enough to be this man’s wife.
“When Norah got sick, Ma couldn’t…” His words trail off. “I learned, so my family could eat.” His depth floors me.
“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.” I glance at Sadie, then back at him. “At least your mum still has you. You have three other brothers, right? And another sister?”
“Aye. I had to take care of meals for everyone. Norah could usually only keep down broth and crackers. It broke Ma’s heart not being able to feed her sick daughter her famous stews.”
“James can be a dosser, but if something happened to him…” My brain goes hazy for a moment, considering how that loss would destroy my parents.
“You’d want to die yourself.” Ewan’s face darkens. “But… My sister was selfless. She wouldn’t want us falling apart. I go on for her.”
“I like that.” Feeling my skin chafe from the wet clothes, I say, “Thank you so much for watching Sadie. I’d give you a hug, but then you’d be wet, too.”
“Not sure I’d mind,” he says and then covers his mouth. “I mean… Aye, get changed into something dry. Whiskey?”
“I’d love some when I get back down here.” I hurry up the stairs and hear that familiar eerie sound from the ceiling, leaking in my parents’ bedroom. Theirs is the first to start dripping when these rainstorms roll in. Each year, they get worse.
I change my clothes and put my hair into a clip, even though it’s still damp. I stare at the cat tattoo on my wrist, knowing the minute Ewan sees it, he’ll remember me. I should have said something immediately. Why have I kept this secret from him? And how long will I?
Ah, the Lord, what a mess I’ve made!
In the kitchen, Ewan sits there with a laptop and a plastic rod sticking from the side.
“Did you get your router?” I ask him.
“I did.” He hands me the glass of whiskey and clinks his to mine. “It works great. Connects beautifully. I’ll leave it here for your parents and keep paying the bill.”
The burn in my throat reminds me of how he set me on fire that night. “Are you sure?”
“It’s no trouble. I have plenty of money. Don’t worry about that, and don’t worry about the doll clothes. Or the food.”
I smile over the rim of my glass and say, “I’ll let you and my dad work that out. You’re both proud and stubborn. May the best Quinlan win.”
He sips while staring at me and then puts his glass down. Next, his hand trails up my arm, the tattoo sitting just under my sweater cuff. The devilish look in his eyes makes me think he’s figured out it’s me and wants more of what we had that night.
Yes, please.
