Page 40 of Wild Irish

If I don’t have Maeve’s list, then what do I have? No job. A pile of student debt. Parents who are too wrapped up in their own grief to even remember my birthday. Even my friends back home have pulled away, or maybe I pulled away from them, hating the look of pity in their eyes.

But those things won’t change if I’m here chasing a ghost.

I tuck the smaller piece in my pocket and stand, clutching the rest of the list. A thousand memories push to the forefront of my mind, and I realize that I’ll never make another one with her no matter how much I want to.

With a shaky breath I fold the list, then lean down placing it under one of the rocks. The small bird is still perched on the rocks above, watching me. I chuckle when I think about what Maeve would say. She’d find some spiritual or significant meaning in its presence. Right now, I wish I could be as willing to believe.

“Goodbye,” I whisper.

As if in response, the bird chirps then flies off, just as a ray of sun breaks through the clouds hitting my face with a sudden burst of warmth.

I sigh, allowing myself to accept the small illusion.

Goodbye.

Cillian holds out his hand. I can’t read his expression, but at least it’s not pity I see.

I take his hand, and let him lead me back to the path. My ankle is throbbing now, and every step I take is excruciating. “Are you sure you don’t want to carry me?” I joke.

He stops and looks at me, frowning, one brow drawn up, then sighs. “Fine. Get on my back.”

I chuckle until I realize he’s serious.

“I was just kidding.”

“I’m not.” He removes his backpack and kneels. “I’d like to get back to the car sometime today, and the way ye’re hobbling along, I don’t see that happening.”

I know the gruffness in his voice is meant to convince me that he hates the idea, and that he’s only doing it for selfish reasons, but even so, as I climb on his back, I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips.

Wrapping my arms over his shoulders, I whisper in his ear. “Thank you.”

He grunts, but I feel his muscles tense, and the small tremble that races through him when I kiss his neck.

“Don’t thank me yet, love. I have an idea of how ye can make it up to me tonight.”

Chapter 16

Cillian

Imoanedand complained most of the way down the mountain, but honestly, I didn’t mind carrying her. I also didn’t mind her opening up to me. At least I know the truth now. And I was right about the damn list. It wasn’t hers.

But something has been nagging at the back of my mind. If the list wasn’t hers, if she’s been doing all these out-of-character things just to grieve the loss of her sister, then what the hell is she doing with me?

Was it just to prove something? Is that all this has been to her?

I’m not sure why it bothers me so much.

I’m the one that set the rules. The one who built the walls. But if she’s done with the list, then she’s most likely done with whatever this thing is between us.

A few days of her, and I’m already hooked. Desperate for more.

She’s not like any other woman I’ve ever met. And I’ve known all types. From backstabbing bitches like my ex, to stubborn, insanely devoted women like Emer.

But Delaney...she’s odd and strangely prone to accidents, but she’s unique…special.

It’s like I know her completely and intimately, and yet she’s a mystery at the same time. Something sacred to be cherished and protected.

Get a grip, Cillian. She’ll be gone in less than a week. Don’t make this about anything more than it is.

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