“Why’s that?”
The corners of his mouth quirk. “I’m happy.Toohappy.” He shakes his head. “It’s got me thinking…I got you on a technicalitybecause I accidentally got you pregnant. Maybe it’s not a good idea to draw too much attention to this. Might be tempting fate.” He draws in a deep breath, his chest expanding, then he exhales. “Let’s keep our happiness on the down-low, babe. Just in case.”
“Oh, God,” I say, laughing. “In case of what? Who are you, my great grandma Reilly who always swore the fairies were stealing her keys? How old-school Irish are you right now?”
He shrugs, eyes still closed. When he speaks, there’s a touch of an Irish brogue infused. “Did you investigate? Maybe therewasan infestation of the wee folk. You don’t know.”
Still laughing, I sit up, marveling at his ability to sound so serious when he’s teasing. “I’m going for a swim. Don’t worry, I’ll watch out for mermaids.”
Scott’s fingers tighten around my wrist and pull me back down. “No, stay here with me. We’ll go swimming together when I get my second wind. No bride as beautiful as you goes anywhere alone.”
Rolling my eyes, I curl up against him, but I don’t actually mind the delay. We can afford to be lazy. The ocean will still be here in an hour and so will we.
Chapter
Seven
TRICK
The days pass too fast. Spending every day on the beach with Laurelyn turns out to be better than I could’ve imagined. We talk about the past and the future, we make love and we swim, and we count our lucky stars for the week we’re having. Hopefully we’ll have more weeks like this as the years go by because life doesn’t get any sweeter.
Laurel finds a book on sand castle construction, and we spend a whole day building them. It becomes a competition. She makes an elaborate castle from a picture in the book. I build St. Mary’s from Coynston, complete with the statues and the cemetery. She concedes that I won until part of my church falls down.
“I told you that you didn’t have the right water-to-sand ratio on those last few buckets,” she teases, pointing her finger at me. “And now…Iwin!”
My brow rises. “Careful. Gloating will get you in trouble.”
“I’m not gloating! I don’t gloat. That would be unsportsmanlike conduct, which is not allowed. My dad coachedmy softball team, and he drilled it into us. Gracious in victory, strong despite defeat.”
“Nice.” Her dad’s a good man. A part of me resents that he doesn’t think I’m good for her, but I can’t deny he’s got good reasons for his concerns. I’m still gonna prove him wrong, though.
She puckers her pretty pink lips, and I give her a kiss.
“So you won. What’d we bet again?” I ask.
“Come on,” she says, pressing my shoulder with a fingertip.
“Oh right. I promised to spend a whole weekend unplugged from technology at the lake house with you and our families. I wonder how that’s gonna go down. Ash and Monet together…” I whistle.
She smiles. “It’ll be fun. I’m glad they’re becoming friends, aren’t you?”
I nod, though deep down I’ve got reservations about it. Monet needs some steady, sober friends with healthy habits. Ash is a Patrick, which means wild is in her genes. I think about the wedding and press my lips together to keep from frowning. I told Ash it was all right to have a couple glasses of champagne at the reception, but to stick with soda the rest of the night. Then partway through, I saw Ash drinking a whiskey sour. I had a word with the bartender so she was cut off, but when I pointed her out, he knew her by name and was surprised to hear she wasn’t even eighteen yet. A pretty charmer can be an unstoppable force right up until the moment she gets in over her head. I pop my knuckles, feeling edgy when I think of it. Our dad died when Ash was three, so I’m the guy who raised her. She was my first baby, and I’m deeply invested in seeing her life play out with a minimum of strife. When she was young, all I wanted to do was protect her from the harsh side of the world. Lately though, I’ve come to terms with the fact that she’s going to be out there on her own soon, so I need to teach her to make smartchoices. It’s gonna be an education for both of us. Protecting my mom and sisters is second nature. Letting them make decisions without my input is extremely challenging for me.
“What?” Laurel asks, rubbing my forearm. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say, realizing I must have been frowning. “Just thinking about raising kids. It’s tough to figure out how much to tell them about the dark side of life. I don’t want to scare them, but I don’t want them so naïve that someone could easily take advantage and hurt them. It’s tough.”
“I suppose.”
“It’s fun when they’re really little though. I’m looking forward to that again.”
“Again?” she says, confused.
I shrug, and she squeezes my arm, encouraging me to continue.
The sound of the surf is all we hear as I try to decide what to say. I’m doing my best to open up to Laurelyn about the important stuff from my personal life. Since we’re sharing a life now, that’s what I expect from her. It wouldn’t be right for things to be completely one-sided.
“When my dad died, there was a time when my mom was mostly in bed, drugged up because she couldn’t cope, and Kathleen was in Ireland. It felt sometimes like it was just Ashling and me. She was three. I was only thirteen myself, but we kept each others’ spirits up. When I got home, she came running to the door to hug me. That smiling little face helped get me through some dark days. And my ‘playing toys’ with her was all it took to make her happy. She talked and giggled nonstop. Life was pretty complicated just then, so lying on the floor and making fairy dolls pop out of psychedelic mushrooms was pretty much the highlight of my day. Ash was hilarious. The mushrooms had a spring action platform inside, so I’d press the lever and the top popped up and a two-inch doll would go flyingout and land on the floor. The baby giggled uncontrollably every single time. Finally, I got grim and said, ‘Berry Hair fell down hard. She looks hurt.’ Ash looks at me and then at the toy, all serious, and says, ‘Ouch.’ She picks the doll up, kisses its head, and then gives it back to me. I don’t put it in the mushroom, figuring we’re done turning the fairies into projectiles, but no, Ash rams that little plastic body back into the mushroom launcher. At her urging, I send them flying like a hundred more times. Only now after the toy pops out and flies through the air with Ash laughing hysterically the whole time, she turns serious and saysouchand kisses the doll better before she gives it back. I was like, baby logic is totally psycho…but what are you gonna do?”
