Page 26 of Naughty Irish Fate
The siren call of the sea would always beckon him away.
Always leave me waiting at the dock for his return.
“Some people can’t be kept out, Bronwyn.” Sighing, I nod as I look away from Rooker.
“How could I even... begin to...” I shake my head at even considering it.
“Tell you how you begin to, Bronwyn. Stop holding on. To the pub. Your fucking mother and father. Only Paps and Grams deserve your devotion. You think those two would want you to shackle yourself to this island? To this pub or to the sadness you wear like an anchor?” Swiping my hand over my face, I shake off the tears my hand comes away with.
“No. No, of course not. Paps used... used to tell me to shove off. Didn’t even want me here to watch them....” Again, I shake my head and blow out a shaky breath.
“Paps adored you. Grams wanted better for you than her daughter had. You know this, Bronwyn. You know they didn’t expect you to sit life out.” Trudi is right, of course. Paps would be sad to see how I live now.
“Trudi... tell me what to do.” I am the strong one. Always have been, planned to always be the strong one. Right now, I am lost and uncertain and I need guidance.
“Let it go. Take that coin out, flip it, listen to it even it tells you to do something that scares you. Or flip the goddamn thing into the damn sea, lovie. Sell the pub. Bryan would buy it; he’s talked about it before, right? Hell set the place on fire. Paps would watch it burn with a smile on his face if he knew you were letting it go, Bronwyn.” I laugh. Deep in my belly, I laugh as tears stream down my face.
Because, once again, she’s right. Paps left me the Pub not to tie me to Shore Ridge or even to him. It was just something to get me through their loss, I think.
A few years after Paps died, Bryan did ask about buying me out. His family had been friends with mine and they loved the pub. I was not the only thing that brought him back so often. At the time the very idea of not being here where I felt close to my family had been impossible.
Now, it brought me pain and darkness. Anchored me to the same sadness that had weighted my mother down into the sea. Looking again over at Rooker, I wonder if I can manage to free myself. As our eyes meet, I realize I can’t do it for him if I do.
It has to be for me. Need to free myself for me, no one else.
Rooker comes back to me as patrons trickle in, country songs filling the air. Feeling him close with his clean scent filling the air, I can breathe again. Can focus and think for the first time since leaving the boat.
As if he knows I need him now, he never moves from his spot. Like that first night he draws me close every chance he gets. Walks his fingers over my skin, tangles our fingers together. Kisses my wrist with those eyes sparkling with want.
With Rooker beside me, clouding my thoughts, driving a need unlike any I’ve ever felt, it’s easy to imagine letting go. For me. But for him too. It’s easy to imagine sailing way on the seas with him and seeing the world like I once dreamt of.
Feeling the weight of it all, I pull out my coin. With a smile, I rub it at my tit and flip it into the air.
It spins end over end but we never look away from each other.
Catching it in my palm, I slam it down on the bar top.
“Heads.” We call at the same time.
Fate is for sure laughing at us.
