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“Has he been hitting on you?” Dana’s voice was suspicious and eagerly curious.
“He hasn’t spent a lot of time looking at my face when we talk, if you know what I mean.”
Dana made a disgusted sound. “Gross.”
“I fully expect things to get weird. Looks like my car is here. I gotta go.”
“Fill me in as soon as you get back!”
Her phone had pinged with a text that the car had arrived. Hurrying downstairs, she met the attendant in the lobby, signed the paperwork, and got the keys. She followed him out to look at the car, a ridiculously small smart car barely big enough for half a person, let alone her whole body.
“This isn’t a mid-size economy car.”
His face scrunched. “Sure it ‘tis.”
She gestured to the Ford Taurus his coworker had driven over to give him a ride. “That is a mid-size economy car. This is a clown car.”
He shook his head like she was an idiot. “Wecareabout our air quality around here, unlikeotherplaces. A single person gets a car for one person, so you’re not wasting resources. Or you could just take an e-bike like everyone else around here.”
“I can’t really ride a bike all the way to a castle, so…”
Ignoring her, he got into his waiting ride. “If ya keep in mind to watch yourself on sharp corners and remember she sticks a bit in third, your clown car will be grand.”
She watched the car pull away, fuming… and then it hit her. Sticks in third?
No. Oh, no.
Flinging open the door, she squeaked in horror. The clown car was a stick shift, not an automatic as she’d requested. Her father had forced her to learn to drive a stick when she was fourteen. He’d driven them to the Florida-Georgia line to visit a man he’d met online who claimed to be a victim of alien experimentation. Kimber quickly realized the only experimentation going on was seeing which of them could get drunk first, and she’d learned quite hastily—and very badly—how to drive the manual truck home in the wee hours of the morning. She hadn’t driven that truck in over ten years now.
Shit.
“Wait!” She waved a hand at the retreating Ford Taurus, but it was too far away to notice her.
Wet and chilled from the rain, Kimber hugged herself and ran back inside to her room. Thinking of her father had dampened her mood more than the stupid car had. She’d been so eager to see if the Dingle lights were real last evening, running out onto the lawn like a crazed superfan while the rest of the pub watched from inside. They’d all figured out the lights were from a fishing boat while she was still digging for her cellphone and opening the video app to catch some “evidence.”
She’d embarrassed herself. In front of Ethan, too. Scoffing, she stepped into the steaming shower and sighed under the soothing heat. She couldn’t put her finger on that man. Something about him piqued her interest and rang a little bell in her head. There was something drastically different about him. The quick and insistent attraction she felt toward him was certainly new and potent. When was the last time her heart had raced like it did when he was around? Her skin heated and tingled, every one of her senses ready to explore him. His scent. The sound of his voice. The way his skin tasted.
The sexy richness of his kiss.
Goosebumps raised on her skin beneath the water. He’d tasted so damn good. Like whiskey and sex. It wasn’t just the taste of him, but the feel of him. Almost as if she could feel what he’d been feeling in that moment, too. Longing, heady desire. Possessiveness.
Mine.
She felt the word ripping through her skin, but it wasn’t her feeling that way. It was him, claiming her subconsciously through the sweep of his tongue and the press of his lips. How was that possible?
Her nipples hardened at the memory. Running soapy hands over her body, Kimber closed her eyes and lathered her chest, her palms slicking over the needy peeks of her breasts. Sparks of pleasure danced through her as she circled her palms lightly over them, her lips tingling with the phantom feeling of Ethan’s mouth on hers. He’d fucked her with just a kiss.
Oh, God. The way her entire body had lit up with deep sexual pleasure, as if he’d been touching her everywhere and driving deep into her body all at the same time. Rubbing her, stroking her.
Kimber panted hard as one hand smoothed down her belly and between her legs. Her eyes popped open. What the hell was she doing? She had things to do, and getting off to the memory of one kiss wasn’t on the list.
What was happening to her? It was just a kiss. She’d had a hundred kisses. Her ex-fiancé, past boyfriends. Random one-nighters. Frustrated and needy, she rinsed off under the showerhead. She’d nevereverhad a kiss like Ethan’s. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t here for an Irish fling. Dana’s warning about Jim’s professionalism expectations played to her mind. Ethan wasn’t her interview subject. He had nothing at all to do with her job. But she still had an obligation to her employer to be the utmost professional, and kissing strange men on the beach under a stormy sky didn’t fall into that category. Dingle was a small town. What if Pel saw her kissing Ethan and reported back to Jim?
Ugh, it was drama she didn’t need, and it wasn’t good for her career. Besides, Pel was just the type to do something so juvenile.
She needed to stop thinking about Ethan. Period.
Finishing her shower, Kimber ignored the lusty thrum in her body as she dried her hair and got dressed. Keeping her makeup simple, she pulled her hair into a ponytail and curled the ends.
