Page 5 of Wild Irish

“Yes.” I cross my arms over my chest and tilt my chin up.

His eyes widen just slightly, and I can’t tell if he’s impressed or horrified.

“Ye running from someone?” Another accusation. I see his right eye twitch.

“No.”Am I?In a way, I guess I am. Running from myself. From my parents. From my ex. Even from the memory of Maeve. I shake my head. “It’s complicated.”

He mumbles something incoherent under his breath, but I make out enough of it to know he thinks I’ve got a few screws loose in my head. And right now, I’m wondering if he isn’t right. Because instead of sitting here arguing with him, I should be figuring out a way to get out of this mess.

“If I can borrow your phone, I’ll call a tow truck. I’ll have the driver take me to the nearest car rental center.”

“Ye won’t be finding a rental place round here. Even if there were, it’d be closing by now.”

A small noise that sounds like a mix between a laugh and a sob escapes my lips.

What am I going to do?

Tears blur my vision, but I blink them away. Losing my cool isn’t going to help. And I’m not going to let this guy see me cry, no matter how easy it would be right now.

The man lets out an irritated breath, and roughs his palms over his face and scruff.

“Come on.” He opens his door.

“Where?”

He grunts. “Ye can come back to my place.”

My mouth drops open.

Alone with him?

Not a good idea, my brain warns.

But what are my other options?

This trip is about trying new things. The old Delaney would never get in a car with a stranger, let alone go home with one. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

When I don’t move, he adds, “Unless ye’d like to sleep here with the sheep.”

Something tells me that would be a lot less dangerous.

But not half as exciting.

Chapter 2

Cillian

Istart up the hill, half expecting the woman to stay in her car. Half hoping, too. I don’t need this shit. Not today. I was wanting to stay off the radar for a few more days. But even if I could lose the American, I can’t ignore the damage to the fence. It won’t take long for Davie’s sheep to sniff out the escape route.

Agitated, I drive my fingers through my hair, then pull out my phone and make the call that will announce my return. Because as good of a mechanic as Tommy O’Flynn is, he’s an even better gossip. I’ve no doubt the whole town will know I’m back, five minutes after I get off the phone with him.

“Hey Tommy, it’s Cillian.”

“Cillian Gallagher.” There’s shock and a hint of reverence in his voice. “Jaysus, it’s good to hear yer voice. Ye back now?”

“Yeah. I’m over here at Davie’s, and I’ve got a bit of a problem. Damn American ran off the road. Going to need ye to tow the car. And can ye let Davie know he’ll have to come and fix his fence. She put a good sized hole in it.”

“That’s a fret.”

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