Page 37 of Bracing The Storm

Patrick mumbles something in response.

My brain registered the question too late to catch Patrick’s answer. What did he say about who I am? I’m desperate to find out, but I can’t just ask him to repeat it. He’d instantly know I care what he thinks of me when I’m not even surewhyI actually care.

“Lori,” I say by means of introduction.

“Sean.” The older man stretches out his hand, but instead of shaking mine he lifts it to his lips and plants a sloppy kiss on my skin. “It’s always a pleasure when a pretty face joins our little village. We don’t have enough of those.”

“Don’t get any ideas, ye old mug,” a female voice says a moment before a slender hand slaps Sean over the back of his head. He grimaces but there’s a glint of adoration in his eyes as he turns to face the blonde woman behind him. She smiles at him and then turns her attention to Patrick. There’s more hugging as Patrick is squeezed to her ample bosom that stretches the fabric of whatever that thing is she’s wearing.

I’ve never seen a dress so green or misshaped. It could almost double as a curtain and makes me think she might have tried her hand at tailoring before she realized it might not be her thing after all. Then again, with her bouncy red curls and countless silver jewelry adorning her hands and neck she can almost pull off a somewhat Boho-chic inspired look for which designers back home would probably charge a fortune.

“Fiona, this is Lori,” Patrick says when the woman finally releases him. “She’s?—”

I’m what?

WHAT?

I find myself holding my breath, waiting for him to finish the sentence. But he doesn’t. He just holds my gaze and something resembling a shadow crosses his face.

“She’s—” Fiona prompts, seemingly just as interested in him finishing that thought as I am. And then the penny seems to drop. “Oh,thatLori.”

ThatLori?

What is that supposed to mean? Did he mention me to her before? What did he say? Seriously, is the whole village talking about me behind my back?

It’s at times like these that I miss my life in New York, where I was invisible; just a no-name face in the crowd. No one gave a damn about me—and then everything went downhill.

“You’re gorgeous.” Fiona’s voice pulls me out of my dark thoughts. “Sourban.”

“Thanks.” I smile at her choice of wording. She must have picked that up somewhere because there’s no way anyone would ever think me urban dressed in skinny jeans and the kind of oversized sweater that would probably double as a small tent.

“How long are you staying?” Her green eyes pierce into me with the usual glint of curiosity.

I hesitate, unsure what to say. Lying is something I try to refrain from, but I can’t tell her the truth. I don’t want to admit that I’m only here to figure out what to do with the place. Selling, most likely, because I need the money to sort out my life back home. As soon as that’s done and the money’s in my pocket I can finally set things straight and redeem myself enough to return to my old life and career. Fiona might not care what happens with the estate, but Patrick’s probably not going to be thrilled to hear about my intentions. It is his childhood home, after all.

“Yes, enlighten us. How longareyou planning on staying, Lori?” His gaze settles on me and for a moment it feels as though he can see right into my heart. “As long as it takes to sell, right?”

I grimace, rattled.

He knows.

Maybe he overheard my conversation with Duncan or drew the conclusion himself. As much as I want to deny it I simply can’t lie to him.

Fiona and Sean seem to sense the sudden tension in the air because they mutter some hasty goodbyes and are gone before I’ve regained my composure. Before I know it, Patrick and I are alone again, staring at each other in what feels like a silent battle. The animosity wafting from him before has increased a hundredfold.

I try to break the ice first. “I’m sorry that?—”

He smirks. “It’s fine. I know it’s not personal so no hard feelings.” But the daggers in his eyes tell a different story.

“I’m not even sure that—” I stop in mid-sentence.

That what?

That I wish I could move here rather than sell his mother’s estate? That’s not an option though. I have no money. Besides, I can’t just start over in a foreign country and leave friends and my old life behind. I can’t just give up on my career aspirations, and build a new life across the ocean—in the middle of nowhere.I need the buzz of the city, the noise and the excitement, and everything that comes with it.

Looking at Patrick, I suddenly realize I haven’t missed any of it yet. I haven’t even thought about it.

“I’ll be heading over to the pub to catch up with some friends,” Patrick says. “I’ll pick you up in an hour. That should give you ample time to check out our retail highlights.” His gorgeous lips turn upwards into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s being polite and nothing else.

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