Chapter 13

“You don’t like getting wet, Doc?” Dinner had finally ended, and they stood near the pool as the evening wound down.

“Only in the shower.”

The corner of his mouth twisted into a wicked grin. “Not even a hot tub?” He waggled his brows and winked.

She shivered and backed away from the pool. “Not even a bathtub.” She jerked her gaze away from the sparkling water and stared up at him.

“You don’t swim at all?” He cocked his head to one side, curious about her reaction.

“No. It’s odd, especially given that my brother and sister swim like fish, but...” A delicate shiver shimmered through her body. “I’ve always been terrified of water.”

The chill of déjà vu wrapped around him like an ice pack. A memory, as nebulous as a dream, hovered in stark contrast to the woman standing in front of him. “Any traumatic event as a kid involving water?”

She shook her head, quite adamant in her denial. “None. My mother says I would never even go near the wading pool, and she bathed me in the kitchen sink because I’d freak out in the tub. Keegan and Nessa teased me unmercifully, but I didn’t care.” Her gaze slid from his, inexorably drawn to the water just a few feet away.

Delaney’s chest rose and fell as if she struggled to breathe and the hair on the back of his neck prickled. Not for the first time, he wondered if someone walked over his grave. He didn’t believe in déjà vu or reincarnation—none of that New Age bullshit. But something weird was happening. Something he couldn’t define and didn’t understand. Rory curled his fingers into fists to keep from reaching out and touching Delaney. Everything that made him who he was screamed that she was his—that he needed to protect and cherish her.

“Do you believe in soul mates?”

Rory couldn’t breathe for a minute. How did she know what he was thinking? He shook his head but didn’t speak.

She looked pensive and dipped her chin in a gentle nod. “Me either. But sometimes…” Her brow furrowed as she considered what to say next. Unable—or unwilling—to look at him, her gaze remained riveted on the ripples glittering on the surface of the pool. “Sometimes, I feel like I know someone, like we’ve met before even though I know there is no possible way.”

“Like when we met Connor’s family tonight.”

Delaney nodded, the motion absent-minded. “Yes. Like that. And…” She glanced up at him then. “You felt it, too?”

Was it time for him to ’fess up? “Sort of.” That was a wimpy answer. He cleared his throat. “I know it sounds weird, but I felt like I knew his parents, especially his dad. Like we’d been friends for a long time.” He wasn’t about to admit the feelings she engendered.

“It is weird.” She held up a graceful finger. “It’s weird because…I felt very close to them. I felt closer to them than I do to my own parents.” She laughed, the sound forced and a little choked. “I won’t describe my classically dysfunctional family. Suffice it to say that I was always the odd duck. But when I met Kieran and Becca, I just…I wanted to crawl into his lap for a bedtime story, like I was a little girl or something. Talk about weird! I never felt that way about my own father. Ever.”

His chest burned as a bolt of jealousy seared his psyche. She’d sit in no man’s lap but his own! Then the gist of her words cooled the flames. Bedtime story. Like a little girl in her father’s lap. Kieran had to be in his early sixties, though he looked fit and trim. As a former Irish Army Ranger, the man would be. Even though he was old enough to be Rory’s father, Kieran felt like more a peer. Unsettled, he reached for Delaney’s hand and snagged it. Lacing his fingers through hers, he pulled her a step closer.

“I only believe what my senses tell me—what I can see, hear, smell, taste, and touch, Delaney. But here, lately? I’m beginning to wonder if there’s not more out there. Stuff that makes no sense, stuff that can’t be explained away.”

She stepped closer and leaned in. While he continued to hold her hand, he also wrapped his other arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. This...this felt…right. She belonged in his arms, her body pressed against his. He rested his chin on the top of her head. Somewhere in the distance, a voice crooned a love song. Something vaguely Celtic sounding. He couldn’t make out the words.

He didn’t know how long they stood there, the music sheltering them from the world around them. People walked past, laughing and chatting, but the sounds remained faint echoes. Like before, inside the house earlier in the evening, a bubble seemed to surround them, muting the outside world, narrowing focus down to just the two of them. Rory tilted her chin up and dropped his head so their lips met. A gentle kiss, exploratory, almost innocent. Heat would come later. Heat generated by their bodies rubbing together until flames erupted. He deepened the kiss, gratified when her hands slipped around his neck and she rose on tiptoes to meet his kisses.

Later, when they both needed to breathe, Delaney stepped back and cleared her throat. “I…uhm…little girl’s room.” She offered a slightly embarrassed smile before darting away through the crowd.

Rory found a darkened corner where he could watch without being seen.

Kieran appeared a few feet away and his wife slipped up behind him but he gave no notice until she slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his back. “How are you feeling, darling?”

Kieran lifted his shoulders in a negligent shrug but the deep breath he sucked in gave away his tightly controlled emotions. “Becca, I never understood how it happened, you know. That bloody night has haunted me all these years. The accident was such a shock. Riordan could drive anything and he wasn’t careless. Not when he needed to be in control.”

Rory felt like he was intruding but he couldn’t leave. He sensed these people knew something—something important—and he wanted find out what it was.

She slipped around and fitted herself under her husband’s arm. “You are convinced then?”

“As are you.”

“Why now?”

A wry chuckle erupted from Kieran. “Why not now? They were never bound, Becca. Not like us. But the damned fae keep throwing them together. There must be a reason.”

Becca turned her head and Kieran followed her gaze. At the other end of the pool, Ciara and Connor held court at a table, Keegan and Nessa at their sides. “Abhean’s hand is all over this. He’s here, hiding somewhere.”

Becca brushed her cheek against her husband’s shoulder. “Yes. I heard him singing earlier.”

Kieran stared at his children. “They’re the reason, I think. Their lives are tied with hers somehow.”

“And his.”

He sighed at his wife’s statement and Rory caught a hint of remorse in the sound. “I am not a wistful man, Becca. But ever was Riordan at my side. Always. Until that terrible day thirty plus years ago.”

Rory caught a glint of light in Kieran’s eyes and wondered if tears formed there. The other man cleared his throat and continued.

“That telephone call in the middle of the night, the dispassionate voice explaining that Riordan’s Land Rover had been found crumpled on its top, my cousin’s lifeless body inside.” Kieran rubbed his chest, an unconscious gesture to ease the pain that still lingered in his heart. “He was so much more than just my cousin. Brother. Best friend. Conscience. Confidant. My life has been so much bleaker without his laughter to illuminate the dark corners. As much as I love you, Becca, as much as you are my life, my light, he still had importance.” The man rubbed his chest again and turned his gaze to his wife.

“Do you think he’ll finally find his place?”

“His place has always been by your side, Kieran. And you both felt it tonight. The easy camaraderie, the way you both fell into old habits. I knew him as soon as I looked in his eyes. They haven’t changed. His looks might be different, though I admit I like the way he fills out that tux.”

He growled and she laughed. “There’s no man for me but you, Kieran MacDermot, though you can’t blame a girl for window shopping.”

“Of course, I can.”

She laughed and stretched to kiss his cheek. He turned his head to kiss her lips and hugged her tightly. She pushed away to gaze at him, her demeanor serious. “Whatever game Abhean plays, there’s nothing we can do, love. Be glad we’ve found Riordan again. Be glad that maybe, this time around he’ll find the other half of his heart.”

“And this time you can be bloody sure I will teach him the binding vow.”

****

They moved off but Rory remained in the shadows, mulling over that conversation. When Delaney reappeared, he stepped out of the shadows and strode to her side. He pulled her close and kissed her, unsettled by the conversation he’d overheard.

Delaney offered a bemused smile.“Well, I guess you missed me.”

“I did.” He circled her waist with his arm and tucked her into his side. Rory didn’t care that Connor’s parents stood in the shadows nearby and watched him with Delaney. Nor did he care that Connor, his sister, and Delaney’s siblings occupied a table near the pool drinking and laughing like they’d been friends all their lives. He did care that Delaney gazed at the quartet with something akin to hurt in her eyes. Or longing. She wanted to belong to that group, to be included. She wasn’t—and never would be. The four of them closed ranks the moment they all met, shutting out Delaney and anyone else. He controlled the outrage he felt on her behalf.

“You’re three times the person any of them are, Doc.”

She jumped, as if he’d hit her with a jolt of static electricity and rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms. “But they look so…happy. So…complete. Like they own the world.” She sighed. “I know I’m petty.”

“Petty? You?”

She breathed a couple of times, still watching them, her expression melancholy. “I’m jealous. That’s pretty petty if you ask me.”

Rory laughed, his amusement bubbling out. “Jealous? Of them? What the hell for, Doc? When I look at them, I see a bunch of self-absorbed, smug asses. They have nothing on you, Delaney, and frankly, I think they’re fools for ignoring how wonderful you are.” She blushed, and he could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks. He softened his voice. “You are, you know. Wonderful. And beautiful. Sexy.”

She sputtered. “Sexy? Me? Not likely!”

He arched a brow, glanced around, and then edged her deeper into the shadows. When he was sure no one could see them clearly, he reached for her hand and pressed her palm against his erection. “Feel that, Doc? That’s what you do to me. I want to kiss you. Touch you. Worship your breasts and bury that hard-on so deep inside you I can touch your soul. I want to make you come so many times you see stars. And then I want to sleep with you in my arms so that when I wake up, I can slip inside you again. I want to watch you wake up knowing you make me feel impossibly hard and it’s only for you.”

Her breath quickened and he pulled her against him, rubbing his erection against her tummy. “Come home with me, Doc. Let me undress you and worship you with kisses and touches. Let me show you how beautiful you are. How sexy you are. How you make me feel like the luckiest man in the world because you’re in my arms.”

His mouth claimed hers, his tongue tickling the seam of her lips until she opened to let him inside. He deepened the kiss, hungry to claim every part of her. YOURS. The word roared in his head and he let it wash over him as the thought sent even more blood south, swelling his erection until he thought the head would explode if he didn’t get inside her soon.

“Please.” The word was both plea and promise.

Delaney sighed into his kiss and he knew. He had her. But he had to get her out of there, away from her family, away from prying eyes so he could claim her. For once, Delaney’s anonymity worked to his favor. No one would miss them if they snuck out. He knew they could skirt going through the house by slipping around the outside corner. With luck, his keys would be in his truck, and he could bypass the valet parking attendants as well. He was about to whisper his plan in her ear when the soft clearing of a throat froze him in place. This was bad. Very bad. His job was to remain situationally aware, yet someone had gotten the jump on him.

“Easy, Rior—Rory.”

Kieran. He breathed again and plastered his cop face on as he turned to the other man. Something dangled from Kieran’s fingers.

“You’ll need these, Rory, to take the cailín home. As you’ve already scouted your way out, I’ll leave these with you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crisp white business card. “Along with this. I hope you’ll decide to stay in touch, Rior—Rory.”

He reached for both keys and card, staring at the print for a few moments though the hesitant light made the words difficult to read. He glanced away with a tilt of his head and then cut his eyes back to other man. “Who was he?”

His question caught Kieran off guard. “Who?”

“This Riordan guy.”

A momentary flicker of sadness touched Kieran’s expression, and he gazed at something over Rory’s shoulder for a long moment. The man cleared his throat before his gaze returned to focus on Rory. They stared at each other for several heartbeats. “My cousin. My brother. My best friend.”

“What happened to him?” Rory thought he knew from eavesdropping, but he wanted the other man to say it to his face.

“He died. Automobile accident in Ireland.” Kieran’s blue eyes bored into him. “Thirty-six years ago in April. And not a day goes by that I don’t miss him. That I don’t mourn him.”

Rory’s vision wavered for a moment. He saw a younger Kieran on a big red horse. And him on a gray. What the hell? He shook his head, fighting the double vision and forcing air into his lungs. What was happening to him? This was like some bad B movie. He didn’t believe in reincarnation or any of that bullshit. But something about this man called to him—reached out to him like a long, lost friend. Like Kieran before him, he had to clear his throat to speak. “He must have been very special.”

Kieran clapped him on the shoulder and smiled at Delaney standing behind him. “’Twas a pleasure to meet you both. Please don’t be strangers.” The corner of his mouth quirked in a wicked grin. “Not that my wife would be lettin’ ya now.” He turned and took two steps before he paused and glanced back, his eyes once more boring into Rory. “He is, Rory MacDermot.”

With that cryptic parting, Kieran rejoined his wife and they disappeared into the crowd of revelers. Rory half turned and gathered Delaney under his arm. “Let’s make a run for the border,” he teased, and was pleased when she offered a wink and a conspiratorial grin.

He led her around the house, using the mini-maglite on his keychain to guide her over the flagstone path. When she stepped off the path and her high heel sank into the grass, he simply picked her up, despite her protestations. He ignored her futile thumps against his chest and stopped walking for a minute so he could kiss her into silence.

“Hush,” he murmured against her lips. “This is easier.”

“Barbarian.”

“Yeah. I am.” He laughed and started walking again. “At least I’m not a caveman, otherwise you’d be thrown over my shoulder.”

He managed to find his truck—not that it was all that hard to spot in the sea of sleek luxury cars—and deposited Delaney safely on the passenger’s seat. Rory kissed her again for good measure and sprinted around to get behind the wheel. They’d made good their escape. While they waited for a break in traffic at the end of the drive, he turned to her. He didn’t smile. He couldn’t. He had to ask her one more time, and her answer had the power to kill him if he let it.

“You’re wearing your cop face again. Why?” She reached over and smoothed her thumb between his brows, as if to ease the furrow there.

“Will you come home with me?”