Beers, Hens, and Irishmen (Warbler's Point Series) (8 page)

             
He was trying on a navy blue ski jacket when Murphy came walking back in.

             
“Sorry about that lad, how can I help ya tis beautiful mornin’?”

             
Booker pulled his hand from the jacket he was touching. “Not a problem. I was looking for some gear for the winter season and wanted to find out when we can start lessons.”

             
Murphy slapped him on the shoulder and said, “Ya came to the right place lad, I can fix ya up with some fine apparel but lessons will have to wait till we get some white on the ground.”

             
“Makes sense.” Booker said.

             
It took an hour of trying on clothes, boots, gloves, goggles, hats and much more until he found the right combination. He got a pair of grey snow pants, a navy blue jacket, a matching knitted snow cap with ear flaps and the best skis money could buy. He looked pretty good if he didn’t say so himself.

             
Even though he wanted to hate Murphy Ryan because of his nearness with the lovely…err, just regular Fiona, he couldn’t help but like the guy. Booker understood why Fiona must like the guy, he was charming, friendly and even though Booker was a guy he could appreciate good looks when he saw them. Damn. But it didn’t matter, he was not going to focus on Fiona, he wasn’t going to think about how she was a breath of fresh air he had been dreaming of, or her perfectly round whiskey colored eyes or long auburn hair, or curves that he dreamed of running his hands over or her sweet intoxicating kisses. Nope, he was not going to think about her at all.

                                                                                    ***

              Liam sat on his couch waiting for his wife to return home from dropping Catherine, their daughter, off at his wife’s parents. They were taking her for a couple of days to spend some quality Halloween time with her. They planned on going to a pumpkin farm and planned on carving pumpkins as well as taking her trick or treating on Halloween, thankfully since Liam had to work. A part of his heart hurt because he was going to miss trick or treating with his little girl but Liam thought the alone time was much needed for him and his wife.

             
He heard Neala come through the door and set her keys on the shelf in the entry way. She came into the living room where he sat. He noticed she had heavy bags under her eyes and she looked a little thinner than usual. When did she lose weight? Was he that busy at the pub that he wasn’t able to notice? She wore sweatpants that hung low on her hips and a thermal long sleeve shirt that hugged her figure tightly.

             
“Hey babe. Did Catherine take off alright?”

             
“Yea, she was really excited. She practically ripped herself out of her car seat and ran for my parents. You would think we torture the poor kid.”

             
Liam smiled at her and as she started to walk by him but he grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto his lap. Even though they had been married for six years, feelings between them felt awkward. He couldn’t pinpoint why though, was it because of their fight? He didn’t think it was that bad of a fight to make them feel like strangers.

             
She started to get up when he held tighter. “What’s wrong?” he asked while caressing her face.

             
She stopped his hand and said, “Please don’t Liam?”

             
“I’m your husband Neala, I should be able to caress your face.”

             
“I know you’re my husband, I don’t need a reminder every day.”

             
Struck by her harsh tone he asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”

             
She got up from his lap and went into the kitchen. He stormed after her, she was not getting out of this conversation that easily, she had some explaining to do. He had about enough of this tip toing around each other. He was going to get to the bottom of the awkwardness between them.

             
“What the hell is going on? Is this because I want more kids? I can wait until your ready…”

             
“That’s not it Liam.”

             
“Then what’s the problem.”

             
She was gripping onto the kitchen sink and staring out the window. She didn’t answer at first and he thought she wasn’t going to until she broke the silence.

             
“I want a divorce.”

             
She might as well have run him over with a hay baler. Where the hell did that declaration come from? He was so shocked by her statement that he didn’t even know how to respond. She started washing the dishes as Liam just stared at her in shock. When did his marriage turn so sour? He knew they had their differences but a divorce? Was that really necessary?

             
He stormed toward the sink, ripped the dish she was cleaning out of her hand, turned off the water and made her face him. He looked into her eyes and they were completely lifeless. There was no warmth for him, no love, they were just cold and bitter. He took a step back, trying to detach himself from her cold cold stare.

             
“Explain, right now Neala.” Liam gritted out.

             
She sighed and tugged on her sleeves, avoiding eye contact. “I can’t live with a man who’s bar comes before me, who wants me only as his wife who takes care of the house and his child. I’m more than that Liam and you fail to realize it, you have for years.”

             
“So you are just going to leave me? You are not even going to give me a chance to prove you wrong? Don’t you want to work this out?”

             
“Why would I do that if I know you don’t love me anymore?”

             
Liam literally had to shake his head from her foolish statement. “What the hell are you talking about? I love you more than anything. Where is this coming from?”

             
She jabbed her finger in his chest and said, “You know exactly where this is coming from and don’t you dare lie to me. I see how you look at her, I have seen your text messages. You love her, not me.”

             
Liam’s stomach dropped to his shoes. He never ever would cheat on Neala, that was not his style, he was the most loyal man in town. But he knew exactly who Neala was talking about. He knew where her sour feelings were stemming from. Sophie Michaels. Shit!

                                                                                    ***

              Fiona was picking up some groceries from the small and only general store in Warblers Point since she thought it would be good to actually have some food at her apartment for once. Her shift at the pub didn’t start for a couple of hours so she wanted to get some things done before hand, like laundry, grocery shopping, oh and making out with her ex in front of a guy she previously made out with the night before. Wanting to slap herself in the head with a can of kidney beans she just cursed herself for her stupidity.

             
Where was her self-control? Did she lose it when she played that darts game with Murphy the other night? She needed to stop falling at men’s feet and start focusing on what she needed. And she didn’t need some hunky Irish man driving her mad with his burning kisses and stinging touches. Nope, she definitely did not need him.

             
She was grabbing apples for the event they were having at the pub on Halloween when she picked the wrong apple causing the pyramid of fruit to start tumbling over its display and fall to the floor. Damn it. If she actually was paying attention to what she was doing instead of day dreaming about two gorgeous men this wouldn’t have happened. She struggled to catch the apples as they fell but only managed to save two from hitting the ground.

             
She was on her hands and knees cleaning up the apples when a very nice looking loafer found its way near her hand. She swallowed hard knowing the loafer probably belonged to an extremely attractive blonde male on vacation. She traveled her gaze upward, following the jean clad leg up to the tight crotch where she saw an impressive bulge and then the man squatted, relinquishing her fantastic view. When she looked up she came face to face with Booker. Just what she needed.

             
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you to not pick at the bottom of the pyramid?” Booker said with a grin while holding up one of the apple escapees.

             
She didn’t know what to say. Why was he being nice to her? Shouldn’t he be mad at her, not that they were dating but if she was in his place she would be mad. Interesting, was that because she liked him? Well of course she liked him, how could she not. He was refined, traveled, and beyond handsome. Plus he was soft spoken, sweet and caring.

             
“Uh…thanks.” Was all that squeaked out of her mouth as she gathered up the apples and just shoved them in her cart.

             
“Do you need help putting those in a bag?”

             
She looked back at him and shook her head no, trying to get away from him. God she looked like such an idiot right now. She needed to remove herself from his presence immediately and not make their encounter any worse than it was. As she turned to smile at him and give him a nice wave, she started to move her cart and ran directly into a box of pumpkins that occupied part of the vegetable aisle. The impact of the heavy box of pumpkins knocked her flat on her ass. She lowered her head in frustration. Real smooth.

                                                                                    ***

              Booker watched Fiona as she struggled with being uncomfortable around him. He thought if he ever ran into her again it would be extremely awkward but seeing her in the general store fumbling with apples only made his heart open up for her again. Damn it! He was going to forget about her, let her go but now seeing her flat on her ass with probably twelve dozen loose apples in her cart made him yearn for her even more. How did that make sense? He was used to woman throwing themselves at him wearing practically nothing and gyrating their bodies, not wearing jeans a heavy sweater and scarf running into cartons of pumpkins and spilling apples everywhere.

             
He went over to her where she was just sitting on the floor picking at her scarf swearing quietly to herself. He squatted down next to her and put his hand out to help her up. She just looked at him with those huge whiskey colored eyes that burned through his soul. At that moment he knew, he was not going to be able to get over her, she already took up residence in his heart.

             
She grabbed his hand sending a warm feeling through his arm that zinged through his body straight to his heart. Her hand felt so tiny in his but perfect, like they were meant to hold hands for the rest of their lives.

             
He helped her up and when she stood she was mere inches from him. She smelled like fresh laundry and flowers, making his heart beat even faster.

             
“Now what are you trying to do to those pumpkins with that deadly cart of yours?”

             
She laughed softly while continuing to hold his hand, sending blood rushing directly to his southern area. If she was any closer she would be able to feel the affect she had on him.

             
He shouldn’t be flirting with her right now. He should be accusing her for using him when clearly she was involved with someone else. He should be chastising her for leading him on and building up false hope, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t say anything mean to her, yell at her or make her feel bad. No he wanted to make her smile, he wanted to make her feel comfortable, he wanted to show her the world she so desperately wanted to see.

             
She interrupted his thoughts when she said, “Thanks for the help up.”

             
He just looked at her, studying her every feature. She was such a beauty. Her skin was so creamy and soft, her hair was a gorgeous auburn color that filled her head and cascaded over her shoulders. Her eyes were devastating to any man and her smile could stop a person in their tracks.

             
He caught himself staring when he saw her starting to get uncomfortable, so pulled herself away.

             
“Uh, yea no problem.” She started to brush off her butt when he said, “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

             
He knew she was probably hanging with her Irish stud muffin but he couldn’t give up that easily on her, especially after the way she kissed him the night before.

             
She looked at him with a bit of shock on her face. “I’m working tomorrow night, I work almost every night.”

             
“What are you doing after?”