“Niamh—” I said softly as she started pacing.
“I am such a fool. You’ve probably had a million amazing kisses because you’re an amazing kisser, and I’m projecting my feelings onto you. I’ve read too many romance novels and truly thought I’d chase after you and you’d realize how much you loved me back and we’d live happily ever after. Oh, I’m going to kill Harriet.”
“But Niamh?—”
She held up a hand. “Let’s forget this ever happened. Let’s get back to Fairwitch Isle, and you can run away again or continue guarding Cillian or live in your cabin chopping wood for the rest of your days, and I’ll leave you be.”
“Don’t you dare,” I growled, the thought of never seeing her again cracking me right open.
She stopped like she was just realizing there was another person with her, and I wondered if she’d meant to say all of that to herself. “What?” She blinked, rain trickling down the sides of her face, plastering her long red hair to her body.
“Niamh.” I grabbed her shoulders and squeezed gently. “I’m not good with words. You’ve probably realized that by now. I’m not good with people. I’m not good at much other than being alone.”
She swallowed thickly, any hope left in her eyes flickering out.
“But ever since I met you, I’ve wanted to be better at one thing.”
“What’s that?” she whispered.
“Deserving you.”
She let out a ragged breath.
“That’s why I left Fairwitch Isle. I didn’t know how to tell you all the things I’m feeling, so I thought I could show you. I wanted to go toyour tower and find your jar of firebugs, to bring them back so you’d never have to be cold again after you gave away the damn statue.”
“Oh.” She sucked in a shaky breath.
“I’ve messed up so many times, and I didn’t think my words, even if I could manage them, would be enough. I thought to seek your forgiveness, I needed to do something big, something romance worthy like in one of your books.”
Niamh let out a sob.
“This is why I don’t use my words.” I thumbed away a tear, but it didn’t really matter with the rain streaking down her cheeks. “Now I’ve made you cry.”
She grabbed my face and brought my mouth down to hers, kissing me hard. Warmth filled my entire body as her lips moved against mine, rain pelting us, her mouth wet and slick and tasting like roses.
“Happy tears,” she said between kisses. “They’re happy tears. You’d be surprised how good with words you are, Rafe Wolfgang.”
Hearing her say my real name did unthinkable things to my cock.
She kissed me again, and I wrapped my arms tightly around her, bringing her flush with my body, which still didn’t feel close enough.
Her lips slid against mine, both of us soaking wet, and I grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling it slightly to tip her lips up farther. When I’d kissed her last night, it had been a goodbye kiss, a kiss meant to end our story, but this kiss felt like a beginning, like hope.
Thunder boomed, and we separated as I looked around, realizing we were in the middle of a storm. I grabbed her hand, her fingertips blue. Fuck.
Wind and rain battered us, and I brought Niamh closer, keeping her wrapped in my arms as I leaned down and yelled, “We need to find shelter and get you warmed up!”
“I think I remember passing some kind of rock shelter a little way back,” she yelled. “It was small but should keep us safe until the storm passes.”
As the blue permeated her nails, I was more worried about warmth than anything else. We didn’t just need shelter, we’d need fire, and I wasn’t sure anything would be dry enough to accomplish that inthis kind of weather. But I’d fucking try. I’d rub sticks together all night if that was what it took.
She threaded her fingers with mine, pulling me forward through the slick grass. Our boots slipped and slid in the mud, slowing us more than I would’ve liked as we walked up a hill, fighting against the wind, the rain like sharp little knives grazing past us. The wind was so loud now, I couldn’t hear anything but the roar of it as it whistled in my ears.
After what felt like an eternity of trudging through the storm, Niamh pointed, and I squinted, trying to see through the downpour. “There!” she shouted, letting go of my hand and quickening her pace down the hill.
I followed and arched my neck, spotting several tall, thick rocks leaning against each other to create a sort of cone shape, almost like a tent. Bit by bit, we moved forward, wind fighting us every step, and finally we were in front of the structure.
Niamh hesitated before entering through the purple curtains.
