Page 67 of Twist of Fate
Aisling
PAST
“Oh, honey, I really should have made you buy a better jacket before we left.” My mom gives me a once-over and huffs.
I look down at the rain jacket I’ve had since high school. It’s basic, black, and keeps me dry. I don’t see the problem here. “What’s wrong with it?” I ask as nicely as I can because, quite frankly, my mood is sour as shit this morning.
It has been ever since I hung up on a certain ex of mine last night.
It pains me to say this, but I really should have listened to her and ignored the asshole’s call in the first place. However, there is something about Theo that always makes me feel…weak. I really hate admitting that.
She looks out onto the fjord in front of us and sighs. I had no idea Ireland even had fjords. “If you think it’s windy now, you’re going to be blown away—no pun intended—by how windy it gets when we’re on that boat.”
I frown. “Now you tell me. I could have brought an extra hoodie or something.” Then I just wave her off. “Whatever, I’ll be fine. I’m from the Midwest. I’m built for cold weather.”
Thirty minutes later, the fjord proves me wrong as the wind lashes around the boat like a cold tyrant. My Midwestern ass is freezing, and I’m about ready to cry.
“You sure you don’t want to go inside?” she asks for the tenth time.
“No.” I shake my head. “We already went inside. You can barely see anything.” And even though my teeth are chattering as I speak, the view is breathtaking, and I would rather be cold than stay in the heated cabin and miss it.
“Okay.” She pats my thigh, snug and warm in her insulated jacket and fleece beanie. “I’m going to get us coffee then. That should help.”
“All right.”
She rises from the bench we’ve been occupying and disappears around the corner, leaving me by myself. I take a deep breath, stand up, and walk to the railing that overlooks the water. It feels about twenty degrees colder here than it did under the roof, but the sun is shining on my face, and when I look up, I can see the whole mountainside from this viewpoint.
“Did you know your nose turns red when you’re cold?” I hear a familiar voice say from my left.
I turn and see Finn standing there, appearing much warmer than I am in a hoodie and jacket, even though neither is zipped.
“I did know that,” I tell him with a tiny grin.
“Goes well with that blush you always seem to have when I’m around.”
That blush he’s talking about makes an abrupt appearance, and he laughs. I roll my eyes but can’t help the grin that slips out. Or the shiver that quickly follows.
“Here,” he says, starting to shrug off his jacket. “Take that off for a minute,” he adds, pointing to mine.
“I don’t know how things work in this country, but removing clothing is not usually how we get warm in America.”
“No?” His eyes darken. “Didn’t you know that skin-to-skin contact is the best way to conserve body heat?” I nearly choke on my own spit as an image of our naked bodies tangled together is thrust to the forefront of my mind. “I’m giving you my hoodie,” he clarifies with a knowing smirk.
“Oh.” I bite my bottom lip to suppress a laugh. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to get cold.”
“I’ve been on this cruise more times than I can count. I’m used to the wind, and I’ve lived here my entire life.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve endured twenty-four Midwestern winters. You’d think I could handle a little boat wind, but here we are.”
I watch as he does that sexy man thing, grabbing the back of his hoodie and pulling it over his head. It tugs at the T-shirt underneath, and I catch a glimpse of bare skin. I try not to drool.
He hands it to me, and I thank him before quickly pulling it over my head because I’m so cold. But then the scent hits my senses, fresh and woodsy, and I nearly groan.
Oh god, this man smells good. Is that aftershave? Soap?
Don’t smell the hoodie. Don’t you dare sniff the hoodie.
I manage to pull it all the way down, and by all the way down, I mean the thing hits me mid-thigh. I reach for my jacket but catch Finn in my periphery.
