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Liam O’Hanlon
That was it? NoYour Soulmatein parenthesis orIn Cahoots with Sorcha the Ghost. He hadn’t expected to meet her yesterday, so his chill approach made sense.
She unlatched the box and lifted the lid.
Three cans of spray paint were tucked into the box—all in her brand of choice. Her heart soared with delight as she touched them reverently before raw terror ravaged her. She pulled out a chair as her knees gave out. He knew! OMG!He knew!
Rage kicked in. So much for him not doing his woo-woo thing to learn more about her. That liar! Only two other people knew her secret, and she’d only shared it after researching their trustworthiness and hearing from others that they never betrayed a confidence.
“Liam is more than trustworthy,” a familiar voice said from behind her. “Believe me.”
She spun in her chair and stared at Sorcha, who was standing in her kitchen. “And to think I was going to thank you for sending him my way yesterday. Dammit, Sorcha, stop interfering in my life.”
“You’re only fighting with—”
“I don’t care.” She stood up and shoved the chair out of the way hard. “Liam said his dad told him he could banish ghosts by stomping his foot. Well, this is me telling you to go. Now.”
She slapped her boot to the ground, the sound echoing in the kitchen. Sorcha only crossed her arms, her gaze thoughtful.
“I know you feel exposed right now, but I hope you’ll settle down after you talk to Liam. You can trust him, Taylor. For the same reason everyone does. Not only because he’s your soulmate.”
She picked up the blanket and hurled it at the ghost. Sorcha vanished in a blur, but her disappearance didn’t do anything to calm Taylor down. Air. She needed air. Pressing a hand to her heart, her chest heaving, she closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down. Losing her mind wasn’t going to help anything. The sound of boots on hardwood snapped her into focus and she spun into action. Picking up the blanket, she laid it over the box, concealing the spray paint from view. Wilt’s job was to see everything, and wouldn’t he wonder why Liam had given her such a gift?
“You okay in here?” Wilt asked as he came into the kitchen.
“I was just killing a really nasty spider and giving him the business,” she lied, breathing shallowly.
“It’s the damp, I’m told,” Wilt answered. “Why spiders are so common here. Funny how you can handle Malcolm and his detail, but a spider—”
“It was hairy!” She gave a playful shudder as Linc walked in. “I’m adding protection from spiders to Wilt’s job description.”
“Is that what all the ruckus was?” Linc asked, carefully looking around. “I hate them too. Sugar, can we make you some calming tea? Bug spray?”
There was no mistaking Linc’s syrupy drawl. “I just need a minute. Are you finished?”
“I can’t imagine how stressful this whole matter has been for you,” Linc continued, his boots echoing in the kitchen. “Is there anything more we can do besides extermination services?”
She heard a motorcycle then and bit the inside of her cheek. “No. I just need some space. If there isn’t anything more…”
Linc tucked his hands in his pockets. “Of course. Wilt and I can see Officer Hart out. Wilt mentioned you two had talked about added security. I’ll check in with you later if that’s okay.”
“That’s fine.” He was a nice man, thinking she was in the grips of a delayed reaction to yesterday’s showdown. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank us yet,” Linc said, inclining his head to Wilt, who murmured a farewell.
They left the kitchen in tandem, and moments later, she heard them talking with Liam in the front yard, Officer Hart’s voice among them.
She took a few more cleansing breaths before setting the blanket aside and picking up the box Liam had probably made for her. Her fingers itched with the need to look at the spray cans again. She’d seen the colors in a flash, but she wanted to confirm it. Had he really chosen her favorite spray paint brandandher favorite colors of tangerine orange, white, and ultramarine blue?Welcome to woo-woo central, she thought, setting it on the kitchen counter. There was no way she wasn’t going to confront him about blindsiding her.
She heard cars driving off. A polite knock sounded on the door. Nice of him, that, since Sophie had told her the Irish didn’t knock—they just walked in. Unannounced visits were not her style. But he’d know that, wouldn’t he?
“Come in,” she called because her legs were still trembling. “I’m in the kitchen.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and locked her muscles in place. When he appeared in the doorway, the punch of attraction and an insane joy rocked through her before her other emotions won out. The smile on his face instantly faded, and he closed the distance between them in a heartbeat.
“What happened?”
When he cupped her arm, she wanted to jerk it free, but the warmth in his damn green eyes held her. She remembered what Sorcha had said. That she could trust him. And in that moment, she wanted to. Which was crazy. There must be some uncanny power in his eyes because she couldn’t look away.
