Wild Irish Envy (Copperline #2) Page 5

  And the whole time, I sat there thinking about her, all alone in the hotel. Should I have given her more of that bleedin’ NyQuil? She had slept like the dead on the plane. Feckin’ hell, what if something happened?

  Jaysus, what if the hotel caught fire? Would she be able to wake up after I’d drugged her up and left?

  This swirling cesspool of questions was driving me mad. All this uncertainty reminded me of that elusive and forbidden attraction for her that never seemed to fade. The touch of her warm lips at Trent’s funeral. Of the guilt I felt for wanting her when my friend wasn’t even cold in his grave.

  “Denny,” my ma repeated, pulling me from my thoughts, “did you hear me?”

  “Sorry, ma,” I replied. “I didn’t.”

  “How long are you planning to stay?”

  Good question, since I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to go back. Ever.

  “Not sure exactly,” I shrugged. “I just bought a one-way ticket because of nanny here.”

  The old bird had the balls to just flash an innocent smile and take a bite of her cabbage.

  “Well,” Ciara narrowed her eyes at me, “how long is your girlfriend here for?”

  “A couple months, I think,” I said without thinking, then frowned back at my sister. “And bloody hell, she’s not my girlfriend.”

  Ciara just smiled like my nanny, who was smiling even wider by that point. I raked my hands over my face and massaged my temples. I loved my family, but there was a reason I’d moved clear across the Atlantic Ocean.

  “Are you alright, son?” my da asked.

  “You must be exhausted,” my ma answered for me, “and worried about that girl of yours. You said she was sick, right?”

  “Ma, really,” I groaned.

  “What?” she asked in response. “I said your girl, not your girlfriend. I wasn’t implying anything.”

  “Right,” I muttered.

  “Does she need to go see a doctor?” my nanny asked.

  “I think it’s just a bad cold, but I would like to go check on her. She was right feverish on the way here.”

  “I’ve got some 7-Up you can take her,” the old woman smiled, and I nodded in thanks as she stood to go get it. I rose and pushed in my chair, then grabbed my plate to follow her.

  “Will you be coming back tonight?” my ma called after me.

  “Of course I’ll be coming back tonight.”

  But I didn’t.

  When I got back to the Grafton, Fliss was still fast asleep and still feverish. I began to wonder if I should maybe take her to a doctor like my nanny had suggested, but then figured I’d wait and see how she felt in the morning. So I poured a glass of 7-Up and stirred the bubbles out, then roused her enough to get her to take a few sips along with the ibuprofen I had brought from Montana. I wet a washcloth with cool water and swiped it slowly across her forehead and cheeks until her fever seemed to fade some.

  Then I lay down on the bed beside her, exhausted from the long trip, the long day, and the eternal afternoon with my family. Before I knew it, I had fallen fast asleep.

  And like so many other times, I dreamt about another memory of Fliss.

  April, four years ago

  She had been dating Trent, more or less, for almost two months. More that he had laid claim, but he still fucked around with everything he could get his hands on. It wasn’t right, but who was I to tell on him?

  “Shit,” Justin hissed as he looked across the crowd. “I need to go find Trent.”

  “What the hell for?” I asked.

  I looked across the crowded Copperline bar and saw the familiar dark-haired beauty standing on her tiptoes looking around the room.

  “Because Felicity is here, dammit,” Justin replied. “And Trent just went out back with some chick.”

  “Maybe he shouldn’t be fucking around on her then,” I grumbled. She didn’t deserve that. I certainly wouldn’t have done it. Especially not to her.

  “I don’t even know for sure that’s what he’s doing,” Justin said. “He was scoring some pot from her, but he likes to show his thanks. I just want to make sure he’s not doing it with his dick. Go stall her while I warn him.”

  “You know I’m a shitty liar, right?”

  “Just go stall her.”

  “Why the feck should I?”

  “Because Trent would do it for you, you fucker,” Justin retorted as he started through the crowd, then looked back at me and pointed over towards her.

  “He wouldn’t feckin’ have to,” I shot back in frustration.

  Which was absolutely true. If she was mine, the last thing I’d do is cheat on her.

  I took a deep, bracing breath and made my way through the crowd.

  She was turned away as I got close, craning her neck towards the bar to search through the crowd.

  “I don’t think you’re old enough to be in here, young lady,” I said in a mock authoritative tone.

  One of the girls with her, a lanky beanpole of a blonde, jumped and spun around, blathering on about how she left her ID at home, but she really was old enough.

  But at the sound of my voice, even with me trying to sound as American as possible, Fliss grinned and looked up at me, eyes sparkling.

  “Ah, feck off,” she laughed.

  Her other friend, a nondescript brunette bird with thick glasses, gasped. “Felicity!”

  Fliss turned to her. “This is just Denny, lead singer of the Bangin’ Mofos,” she explained. “He’s not going to get us in trouble.”

  The blonde practically swooned. Our little bit of fandom was slowly growing, and apparently, she was one of them.

  “Ohmygod! Denny! You’re Denny?! Oh em gee!”

  Fliss leaned in and murmured up to me. “She’s a bit of a fan.”

  “I see that,” I replied.

  “Are you guys playing tonight?” the blonde asked.

  “We are, just taking a break at the moment.”

  “Awesome,” Fliss said. “I never actually get to see you guys on stage.”

  “Well, now is your chance,” I grinned.

  “That’s why we came,” she shrugged.

  “And to see Trent of course, right?”

  An odd expression passed over her face at my reminder. She looked down for just a moment, and then glanced back up at me.

  “He probably won’t really like that I’m here. He doesn’t seem to like a lot of things I do these days.”

  “He’s actually been kind of a dick to her,” the bespeckled brunette said, then quieted when Fliss shook her head in a slight warning.

  I’d actually heard that, though. Trent was being kind of a dick to her, and really didn’t seem to have the faintest idea of fidelity. He was my friend, but that didn’t mean he was a good guy. I sure as feck wouldn’t want him dating my sister.

  I really didn’t want him dating Fliss either.

  He had done a lot for me and the Mofos, though. Enough to instill a sense of obligation in me. And he was right possessive about what he thought of as his.

  I.e., Felicity Williams.

  “So, is he around?” Fliss asked, “I don’t see him.”

  “Um… yeah.” I really was a shite liar. “He’s around somewhere. Maybe I could get you a drink while you’re waiting for him to show up. What would you like?”

  “Sex on the Beach,” the tall blonde cooed, with every innuendo of her request written all over her face.

  Fliss looked somewhere between mortified by her friend’s behavior and amused, screwing her eyes up at me in a way that made me laugh out loud. Her blonde friend seemed oblivious to the whole thing as she eye-fucked me into the next week.

  “I will just have plain water,” the little brunette said through her glasses. “I’m the designated driver tonight.”

  She spoke as though she deserved a medal for the job. And, the way the blonde acted, maybe she did.

  “Why don’t you ladies go find a table,” I choked, trying my damnedest to put on a straight face. “I’l
l go get your drinks before I have to go back up on stage.”

  The blonde sighed heavily with a huge smile, like I’d just made her feckin’ year. I swear she had little hearts floating around her head, like when someone fell in love on the Sims.

  “I’ll come with you, Denny,” Fliss piped up, then looked back at the other two. “There’s a table right over there, just off the stage. Why don’t you two go grab it?”

  As we walked away from her friends, I leaned down to Fliss.

  “Your friends are a touch scary,” I said. “The little brunette looks like the most man-hating bird I’ve ever seen in my life. And, Jaysus, I think the blonde wants to eat me for supper.”

  “Phoebe isn’t a man-hater,” Fliss laughed. “She’s just very studious. She’s my smart friend, super serious. And Jillian, well, she’s kind of a friend of a friend of someone I know in class, so I don’t know her too well. She seems a bit, well… you should probably stay away from her. She gets around… a lot.”

  I felt a little elated surge in my chest that she was warning me off the blonde. Like maybe she had other reasons for not wanting me with her.

  I brushed that off, reminding myself, again, that Fliss was Trent’s girl. No point in getting worked up about anything with her.

  “She’s more Justin’s type then, hi?”

  “Exactly, except she’s an engineering major and probably his student. So you might want to warn him to stay away from her, too.”

  I got a bottle of water for Phoebe, the Sex on the Beach for Jillian, and a bottle of Bud for Fliss. It pleased me more than it should have that she liked beer. I loved beer. The fact that she did, too, just ticked one more box on my perfect-woman list. As we headed back towards the table, I saw Justin and Trent heading back in the back door, and I waved them over to the table where Fliss’ friends sat.

  “There’s your fella,” I murmured to Fliss, and she looked in the direction I had nodded.

  An odd play of emotions crossed over her face. A little bit of a sad smile, but mostly confusion and concern. I glanced back over at my friends making their way through the crowd and noted Trent was scowling. Justin must have interrupted him in the midst of something hot and heavy, and Trent looked none too pleased. I felt Fliss grow apprehensive as he drew closer, and she went stiff, arching away slightly, when he threw his arm around her shoulder. There was an odd light in his eyes, something menacing and… chemical. I wondered just what he’d been doing to go off his face like that. It certainly wasn’t just pot. He had a weird glint to his eyes, and his voice was sharp when he spoke.

  “Felicity, you shouldn’t be here,” he frowned. “You know you shouldn’t be.”

  “We just wanted to hear the guys play,” she said in a small voice.

  “I’m working,” Trent lied. “I don’t have time to babysit you, and the fuckers around this bar will be all over you girls.”

  “I sure hope so,” Jillian murmured, casting her eyes again in my direction.

  Trent looked back over at Justin and me. “You guys need to get on stage.”

  “Relax your cacks,” I grumbled over my shoulder as we headed towards the stage, “we’re going.”

  “That was close,” Justin said, following me up the stairs. “The fucker had his jeans around his ankles and the chick on her knees.”

  “He wasn’t just doing pot back there,” I said. “What the feck is he on?”

  “I dunno,” Justin shook his head. “I’ve not seen this chick before, and she had a wide variety of things to choose from. Tried to get me to take something, too, but he was already so fucked that I figured I’d pass.”

  As we climbed up on the stage and took our places with instruments in hand, I looked through the lights to see Fliss standing next to Trent like a scolded child. Phoebe was right. Trent was being a dick to her. I hadn’t really seen this side of him before, and it annoyed and worried me. He didn’t even realize what he had in Fliss. Not in the slightest.

  As the night wore on, the tension between them remained. I became more and more cheesed off at my ‘friend’ and the way he treated Fliss, and ended up doing a few shots to take the edge off. Then I did a few more, wishing it was me beside her. Or that I could at least stand up for her without raising suspicion about my true feelings for this girl.

  But it got worse when Trent started getting all touchy feely. Apparently, he’d forgiven her for showing up and ruining his fun out back. Or maybe he figured on having her finish the job. Fliss didn’t seem too into it, but clearly tried to get over it. At the very least, she quit pushing him away as he brushed her hair back and started kissing down her neck and shoulder.

  She had been watching me sing when he started that, eventually closing her eyes. I wanted to think that she was imagining me there instead of my friend, but it still planted a sickening jealousy in my gut.

  When we took another break, Fliss’ friend Jillian all but sprinted across the bar to plant a determined kiss on my lips, and I kissed her back. I was angry and frustrated and envious… and just drunk enough to think she might be able to wipe all those traitorous thoughts from my mind.

  So I took everything she gave me. I brought her back to the house, to the after party that Trent and Fliss skipped out on, and I allowed her to distract me from the raw pain I saw in Fliss’ eyes. From the sad longing I’d seen on her face after coming up from Jillian’s kiss in the Copperline Bar.

  Present day

  Fliss shifted in her sleep, jolting me awake. I’d completely zonked out, and it took a bit to get my bearings, remembering the flight and the visit with my family. I lay there for a while listening to the rain outside and wondering what life had in store for me at this point.

  And wondering why fate kept tempting me with Fliss.

  The rumble of motorcycles from the street below must have woken her. I could feel the gradual change in her awareness, the careful taking in of her surroundings. She stiffened with a faint indrawn breath, perhaps realizing she wasn’t alone, then rolled to her side away from me and pushed up to sit on the edge of the bed. Her hair seemed to be a thick dark veil around her shoulders, hiding her from me in the gray early morning light.

  “How are ya feelin’?” I finally asked.

  She looked back over her shoulder at me, her arched brows drawn together, looking vulnerable and despondent. “Why are you in bed with me?” Her voice quavered, making her sound fragile and lonely.

  “Not really in bed with you as much as just layin’ here beside ya,” I replied and sat up on the bed. “It was either that or the floor.”

  She swallowed and pensively bit her lip. “But why are you here at all?”

  Reaching across to her, I touched her cheek with the back of my fingertips, relieved that her skin felt much cooler to the touch. Her fever must have broken sometime in the night.

  “You were sick,” I replied, pretending I didn’t hear the catch in her breath or see the startled and wistful look in her eyes. “I was worried about you all alone with that fever ya had.”

  “You gave me more medicine,” she said warily.

  “I did.” Her trepidation seemed a bit contagious, and I found myself becoming edgy and unsure as well.

  She rubbed her eyes and looked across the room, as though she was slowly recalling the past day or so. “Wait, what about your grandmother?”

  “She’s made a miraculous recovery. I called my da when we landed, and she’d already gone home. It would appear that she just wanted me back on Irish soil for a bit.”

  “She was faking it? I thought she was dying.”

  “So did I, but when my da told her I was halfway across the Atlantic, she opened her eyes and said she ought to get home to make some bacon and cabbage.”

  “Bacon and cabbage?”

  “Was always my favorite food as a young lad,” I explained, “and hers was the best. She wanted to make it for me.”

  “What the fuck?” she uttered, shaking her head, making me smile. Fliss had the ability to make a sw
ear word sound like poetry to my ears. Strangely melodic. “So she was in the hospital about to die, and then she just got up and went home to cook for you?”

  “Pretty much,” I replied. “The docs didn’t think she should leave, but the stubborn old woman did it anyway. Had my da drive her home. By the time I got you checked in here and went to see her, she had supper all ready and waiting.”

  Fliss stared at me for a minute, clearly befuddled by this. She finally shook her head in wonder and stared across the room again, quiet for another moment.

  “I need to pee,” she murmured and stood, swaying ever so slightly after being down for so long, to stumble into the bathroom.

  I stretched out and walked over to look out the window at the small courtyard below and had to smile faintly at the scene below. A few folks were sitting at the tables just inside the iron gate, drinking coffee and talking on their cell phones as the rain pissed down around them. That was something you’d never see in Montana’s arid climate. Yet here in Ireland, you could wait an eternity for the rain to stop, so it didn’t seem to faze folks quite so much.

  The city was waking up, coming to life around us. A car zipped along the narrow street, then another. Behind me, I could hear the sound of water start and stop. The door opened and Fliss stepped out into the hotel room, still obviously unnerved by my presence there.

  She had a brush in her hand that she slowly swept through her long crimson hair, pulling it over her shoulder as she worked the knots out. Her eyes held a suspicious glint that made my heart ache a little, but I really couldn’t blame her. Aside from the flight, it had been donkey’s years since I’d been even remotely friendly towards her. It had been easier to be cold than to see her smile at me with that light in her eyes.

  Because that light always made me want more.

  “I’m still not quite sure why you’re here,” she finally said.

  “I’m not heartless, Fliss,” I explained, “no matter what ya think of me. You were all alone in the city and sick as hell. I couldn’t leave you to fend for yourself.”

  She pressed her lips together, sitting on the corner of the bed. “Thank you, I guess.” She looked down at the brush she now held in her lap and began to pull stray hairs from the bristles.