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“I can take you home if need be,” he told her, sipping his drink as well.
“No, I need my suitcase. After a transatlantic flight, all I want is a shower.”
He nodded, making sure to keep his thoughts clean. “Are you hungry? They serve some decent bites here.”
“My stomach isn’t flip-flopping anymore, so that would be great. I hadn’t thought about food tonight.”
“We did a little shopping for you. I should warn you. There are a few welcome gifts too.” His included. Not that he was going to say a word more. He wondered if she would. The idea had come to him in meditation, and it wasn’t what he’d call a normal welcome gift. It had surprised him, but he knew she wanted it. Would love it, in fact. He couldn’t wait to discover more about why. There was nothing about it on her social media pages.
The bartender came over when he beckoned him, and after securing menus, they ordered some food. Shewashungry given her order, which was encouraging. Of course, he’d done his best to calm her energy down when she’d taken his hand on the road. He’d always had that gift as well as his others.
“So…” She traced a long scratch on the table’s surface like she would a river on a map. “You have gifts. What’s that like?”
He kicked back and sipped his whiskey, soaking in her presence. She leaned forward as she waited for his response, so active and alive she was like the first punch of spring. He could see why she was a good journalist. “In Ireland, it’s not as strange as in the United States. I’m half-American, so I know how my mother’s family views it. Pretty weird.”
She nodded. “What do these gifts entail exactly?”
“I can see spirits like Sorcha and sense things. Like where someone died and how.”
“Trippy,” she said choppily. “That doesn’t scare you?”
He shrugged. “When I was a kid, it was a little weird to wake up at night and see someone in my room. My dad had the gift, so he helped me see there was nothing to be afraid of. And he told me if a spirit ever did seem threatening, I could stomp my foot and tell him or her to leave. Now I don’t need to. I have a better way of getting out spirits and negative energy. The place where I live—Summercrest Manor—used to be haunted. It isn’t now.” He waggled his brows, hoping to make her laugh.
She only continued to stare at him. “Incredible. I visited the cemetery in Sleepy Hollow, New York, one time and flipped out when I felt something touch my arm. I almost ran out screaming.”
An interesting experience, he thought, and not one every person had. “What did you do when you first saw Sorcha?”
She laughed. “I grabbed a knife and told her to get the hell out. Later, I fainted like a wuss.”
“After she told you we were soulmates.” His lips twitched.
She made a cute face. “Yep. Fainted dead away. In shock.”
“I’m glad you aren’t scared anymore, Taylor.” He looked up as the bartender brought their food. “Smells good.”
She sniffed the air after thanking the bartender, who gratefully didn’t use the opportunity to chat Taylor up about who she was. Ireland was Ireland, after all. Liam imagined the news would get around soon enough. It always did.
“All I can smell now is oranges,” she said, picking up a slider and taking a bite. “Sorcha’s way of telling us she’s around. Good thing the smell has a good memory attached to it for me. It reminds me of orange Life Savers candy that our doorman used to sneak me.”
Taylor’s story had him smiling. He could suddenly see her as a kid, adorable, of course, and kind and connected even then. “Like I said, she’s strong-minded. Not one to back down.”
“Has she ever been wrong?” she asked as she picked up a fry.
He was learning she didn’t always appear to be watching when she asked a very direct question. She feigned disinterest at the answer, but she was actually intensely interested. “No.”
She tried to disguise the audible release of her breath as she tapped a French fry against her lips. He was trying hard not to look at her lips, especially at her full and luscious bottom lip. Keeping things light at first seemed prudent. He hadn’t expected her to call out what Sorcha had told her, but taking a direct approach clearly helped her feel in control. She liked calling the shots. And she didn’t beat around the bush. He rather liked that.
“So what does that mean then?” She tapped her fry on her plate—this time until it broke in two. “I’m going to just fall in love with you instantly and want to be with you forever? Come on… You have to admit that’s pretty crazy.”
Since directness was something they both favored, he asked, “Are you really telling me you don’t feel anything for me? Not even attraction?”
She gave his shoulder a gentle shove. “Of course I do. I mean, look at you. Hot pirate meets yoga dude. Gold earring. Sandy hair. Body like a Greek god. Totally chill. Who wouldn’t want you?”
He bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. He hated to admit she had him pegged. “Then that’s where we start. If you want. It’s your choice, Taylor. Mine too. Even when a ghost says something.”
“It’s important to choose,” she said quietly. “It’s not that I don’t want to believe her. But it has to be my idea. And yours, of course. Otherwise, it’s never going to work. I’ll start feeling resentful and push back and…”
When she trailed off, he leaned forward. “And what?”
