“That’s a New Age way of thinking, but yes, the comparison stands.” Father Rowan hummed under his breath. “I’m not going to assign penance for this. Not yet. I want you to think about how you can take this temptation and turn it into something good.”
“Huh….” I tapped my heel on the floor. Suddenly, the idea of coming to confession didn’t seem like such a chore. This man was almost like therapy. Not that I trusted him, but the relief trickling through me was almost overwhelming. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me about that,” I said honestly. “I never thought of it that way.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” The smile in his voice was audible.
It was tempting to tell him that this conversation was freeing. But I decided to keep that revelation to myself. I’d spilt enough secrets today.
Chapter 19 – Liam
“And that’s all she did?” I asked, still speaking in Gaeilge.
Connor shook his head. “After confession, she took a roundabout way home, walking down Flintwood Avenue. We stopped once so that she could tie her bleeding shoe, but then we just kept walking back to your place.”
I sat back in my chair, ignoring the grizzly looks from my lawyer. Amanda sat in the corner, at a desk we’d had brought in for when she worked from the office. Since she’d started working here a few weeks ago, she had a handle on matters and only came to the jobsite once a week.
The fiery blonde hated when I spoke with my men in our ancestral tongue.
“Was she looking around?” I asked.
Connor’s brows drew together. “Who?”
“My wife,” I snarled. “Was she looking around?”
His response was the zip of electricity before lightning struck. “When?”
“At the park. On the walk. When she stopped to tie her fecking shoe.” Something about the deviation from her routine struck me.
At this point, Tuesday mornings in the Bay Front Park were a consistent pattern. I would clear my schedule to follow Gabriella next week. She wouldn’t know, and neither would my men. If she suspected I was onto her, she might deviate to throw me off the scent.
But I was certain there was a point to her ritual.
“I don’t know, mate. She was smiling and giddy, a real pain in the arse.” Connor brushed a hand over his hair in frustration. “I suppose she did watch the people in the park and on the street. I don’t think it was to assess for a threat.”
The overwhelming feeling threatened to strangle me. Gabriella was interested in that park for a reason. Why else would she go there, so far away from her neighborhood? If she just started walking there after we married, I wouldn’t have thought much about it. But she’d returned. Carried out her morning ritual.
She hasn’t rendezvoused with anyone…yet.
I’m going to find whoever it is. I’m going to drive a blade through his fecking eye, pluck it out, and make him eat it before he bleeds out.
If my wife thought she could write about her mysterious obsession on my turf, because yes, the park was onmyturf! I fucking ruled this place. I would burn if it had to find the truth.
“Betty!” I raised my voice.
When the decrepit hag slid her chair into the open doorway, she was scowling at my tone. “What’s the craic?”
I pursed my lips. “I want a list of all residents on Flintwood Avenue.”
She snorted. “Sure, and I want the goose that lays golden eggs.”
“Drop everything else. That is your priority,” I bristled.
“I feel a smoke break coming on.” She yawned. “Might have to call it a day. There’s a storm brewin’ in here, and I don’t feel like tolerating the chill much longer. Me old bones can’t take it.”
She didn’t have to give me that stern look. I understood her point. She was talking about me.
“Please, Betty,” I ground out. “Please make this your top priority before the day is over.”
With a wink, she chirped, “Now that’s better, lad. Sun’s comin’ out after all.”
