I strode towards the exit signs with an air of confidence that I truthfully didn’t feel inside. I crossed the automatic double doors and every nerve in my body jolted to life. I felt his presence before I saw the face that haunted my every thought.
I drank in every detail. A football shirt sculpted his broad shoulders, dark jeans hugged his waist. He was as handsome as I remembered. Not in an obvious, in your face kind of way, but in a subtle understated way.
He had class, an air of quiet confidence, and he radiated an almost intimidating assertiveness. Like he knew exactly what he wanted, and was willing to work exceptionally hard to get it.
Those huge oceanic eyes snapped to mine. The draw was instantaneous once again, a physical pull I couldn’t deny. ‘Welcome to Ireland,’ he stepped forward, and brushed a tingle inducing kiss over my cheek.
‘Thanks.’ Nerves crept in as I drew in a lungful of Irish air.
John took my hand reassuringly and led me out to the carpark and over to a gleaming black A5.
‘I had no idea you were an Audi Wanker.’ I teased.
‘I’ve been called many things before in my life,’ he sniggered. ‘But never before have I been called an Audi Wanker.’
‘Seriously! It’s a real thing!’ I assured him. ‘Google it and you’ll see everyone complaining about Audi drivers, although maybe it’s just a British thing.’
‘After the week you’ve had, you’re in no position to be judging other drivers, regardless of their choice of car.’
It broke the ice. We were still laughing as we pulled out of the airport.
Within minutes, he had me at ease and conversation flowed naturally.
John was everything I thought he was and more; funny, witty and sharp. And gorgeous, did I mention that he was absolutely gorgeous?
I kept stealing tiny glances in his direction, trying not to get caught, but it appeared he had the same idea. The draw between us was magnetic.
John expertly parallel parked his wheels into a tight space outside a tiny café in a little village in the outskirts of Dublin. I specified I did not want to go anywhere near the city centre for fear of meeting someone I knew. It would only take bumping into a patient on a weekend away or a friend of a friend away on a hen or something similar. Not a situation I needed to be in. My nerves were shredded enough as it was.
Plus, I wanted to be somewhere quiet with him so I could enjoy him all to myself for the few short hours that we had. I wanted to savour every detail.
He was a drug.
And I was addicted to those pesky chemicals.
We found a booth and the owner of the café arrived to serve us herself, making polite conversation about the weather. It dawned on me that I still had my wedding ring on and she probably assumed John was my husband. It was a lovely thought.
I ordered tea and a scone and he ordered the full breakfast. I couldn’t eat a lot even if I wanted to, my stomach was fragile, torn between excitement and the guilt of what I was doing.
‘What would you like to do, Lucy? Is there anything you want to see while you’re here?’ I couldn’t help but notice his deliberate innuendo, a glint of suppressed laughter in his turquoise irises.
‘I just want you to myself for the day. I put my trust in your capable hands.’
‘These hands are certainly capable.’ He winked.
‘Very funny, smart arse.’ I laughed. ‘What have you got planned for me?’
‘If we leave Dublin before one o’clock, I could have you back in the wild west by four, which would leave a full hour alone with you at my house before the girls need milking.’
He joked about stealing me away but the truth was I would throw caution to the wind and go willingly, in other circumstances.
‘The girls?’ I nearly spluttered a mouthful of tea through my teeth.
‘Sure, you know how it is. You didn’t think you were the only female in my life?’
Laughter lurched from my throat and a smile lifted my lips at the thought of him working the land, tending to the animals.
Our lives were a million miles apart.
