Page 37 of Taming Irish

“Wow,” I say breathlessly, stopping to take in the rolling green hills that surround us, the purple heather, and sheep that seem to roam wild all aroundus.

Underneath a large oak tree, near the edge of the water, there’s a small stone building that looks like something a Hobbit would live in. It’s all uneven stone, with a wood rood, covered with wild vines and moss, and it looks like it’s ready to cave in onitself.

Shane marches down the path towards it, taking out a key and using it to unlock the wooden door. It creaks when he pushes it open, exposing a small one-roomcabin.

“I haven’t been here for a while, so I don’t know what critters might belurking.”

“I’m okay with spiders,” I say, hesitating before following him inside. My eyes immediately go to the bed that’s pushed against one wall, close to the stone fireplace, and little tingles of anticipation skate across my skin. “It’s snakes I’m terrifiedof.”

“Ye won’t be finding any snakes here.” He grins at me. “There aren’t any snakes inIreland.”

“Really? I thought that was just a myth. So, that St. Patrick thing istrue?”

He chuckles. “Thatis probably a myth.” He shrugs, and places the basket Tommy gave him on the small, rectangular table beside a medieval-looking stove. “We just don’t have any native snakeshere.”

The moment he says the words, something small scurries across the floor, and I let out a smallshriek.

“Easy, love.” He’s behind me, my back to his chest, and his voice tickles my ear when he leans down and says, “It’s just a field mouse. He won’t hurtye.”

No, but this man just might if I keep letting him get under my skin the way he’s doing right now. But hell, I want him more than just under my skin. I want him on my body. In mybody.

I lean back, resting just slightly against his chest, and let out a shakybreath.

“My cousins used to torture me by putting garter snakes in bed, and my shoes,” I say, hating the ridiculous phobia that I’ll always blame them for. But with Shane this close, my panic washes away just as quickly as it came. Heat radiates against my back, and even though we’re barely touching, I swear I can feel his cock growing hard against my ass. “I-I…” Shit. I stutter as I say the words. “Never really got over thefear.”

Just like I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the fear of having my heart broken again. And yet, here I am, pushing something that I know can neverbe.

I feel his heavy breath before he takes a step back, breaking ourconnection.

“Ye have a lot of family back home?” He asks, moving across the room, opening the two mildew-covered windows, letting in fresh air andlight.

“More than I liked when I was younger. But, we’re all pretty closenow.”

“Siblings?” he asks, opening cupboards like he’s looking for something, then grinning when he pulls out a large mason jar full of dark amberliquid.

“Nope. Just me. More cousins than I can count, though. I think you’d get along well withthem.”

“Why’s that?” Unscrewing the mason jar lid, he pours some of the liquid into two tin cups, then hands meone.

“Because they’re a bit…” I try to think of the right word, but only one comes to mind.“Wild. Like you.” I sniff the liquid and make a face at the powerful aroma. “What isthis?”

“My dad’s homemade whisky.” He drains his glass, and I watch his throat bob as he swallows. His eyes are filled with humor when he looks back at me. “Ye think I’mwild?”

“I don’t think, Iknow.”

His dimples deepen when he smiles. “And ye think that’s a badthing?”

“Not bad. Just…dangerous.”

He lets out a small sigh. “Maybe. But there’s a whole lot of fun to being able to let go of rules and reservations.” He holds my gaze. “I can show ye just how much fun, if ye let me.” He doesn’t move toward me, and I’m not even sure it’s sex he’s talking about, but the heat when he looks at me is there -always.

Fun isn’t something I’ve ever been much good at. I’ve never been able to justlet go. It was one thing Chad always complainedabout.

You’re too damn uptight, Makena, he’d say.Someone needs to pull that goddamn stick out of yourass.

Maybe he was right. Maybe it’s time I loosened up. Throw my reservations to the wind and let the pieces fall where theymay.

On a shaky breath, I lift the tin cup to my lips and drain the contents. It burns going down my throat, and I cough. “That’sterrible.”

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