Chapter Eighteen

 

Ian clutched the magazine he purchased early this morning as he strolled into the kitchen. His granddad and Reece ceased all conversation. Their gazes locked on his every move, anticipation so thick in the air it buzzed in his ears. His lips twitched as he did his best to ignore them. He knew what they wanted, but he wasn't about to discuss what Aubrey and he did last night. Not that they did anything he couldn't share.

God knew he wanted to do more. It took all his self-control not to take Aubrey in his arms and ravish her. When he walked her to her room, there was no mistaking the passion in her eyes, the way her gaze slid over him like a silky caress. He could have made a move, but in doing so there would be no going back for him. He wanted Aubrey at his side for always, but she needed to figure out if that's where she wanted to be, too. Her walking back into his life awakened a part of him that hadn't been alive in years. He didn't want a one-night stand or whirlwind romance to pass the time until she boarded her plane back to Seattle. He wanted a chance to date her and find out if their relationship could turn into something more.

Ian glanced at his granddad, stirring the oatmeal cooking over the stove top. His impatient huffs grew louder each time he exhaled. Finally, his granddad lost his cool completely and whirled on Ian. "Well, are you going to be telling us or not?"

"Telling you what?" he questioned innocently. He opened the cupboard over the counter and reached for two coffee cups.

The kitchen was warm and friendly with oak furnishings. The small table for four stood at one end where his granddad, Reece, and he spent many meals together.

Reece piped up, not knowing what the word subtle meant. "Granddad wants to know if you kissed Miss Jules."

Ian poured coffee into the cups and tried not to smile as he heard his granddad snort with impatience.

"It's no business of mine." The older man was silent for about a second before he slammed the spoon down on the stove. "Dab blasted. Did you or didn't you kiss her?"

Ian glanced over his shoulder to look at his granddad and then to Reece's eager face. "A gentleman never tells." With a satisfied grin, he tucked the magazine under his arm and strolled out of the kitchen, holding two cups of freshly brewed coffee. His grin widened when he heard his granddad slam the lid on the simmering pot.

Ian spotted Aubrey on the patio, lounging on one of the cushioned patio chairs with one foot tucked under her. The light aqua sweater hung loose and comfortable. Blue jeans covered her long legs and she sported a pair of running shoes with pink and white shoelaces. Her hair shimmered gold as the rays from the sun danced upon the strands she pulled back in a braided ponytail.

His brows furrowed as he caught sight of the open laptop on the table next to her, but she didn't look interested in typing. He followed her gaze to where a couple sat locked in a passionate embrace. A slight smile curved Aubrey's lips as if the happy couple snuggling close with whispered caresses, pleased her.

He took a step toward her. "Doesn't the computer work better if your fingers are dancing upon the keys?"

She turned and shielded her eyes from the sun when she looked up at him. "Good morning, Ian." Her dazzling smile nearly blinded him.

He handed her a cup of coffee. "A splash of cream and a spoonful of sugar. I hope you still take it that way."

Her hands greedily accepted his offering, bringing the cup to her lips. "Mmm-hmm, perfect." She leaned her head against the chair and breathed in deeply. "You're a Godsend. I needed some caffeine to jump-start my brain this morning."

He nodded toward the couple. "Wasn't their lip-lock action helping?"

She grinned sheepishly and cleared her throat. "Caught me, did you? They seem so... into each other." Her finger lazily traced the rim of her coffee cup.

"You doubt they truly are?" He glanced at the couple taking their time as they enjoyed their kiss. "They're giving a good imitation, don't you think?" He pointed with his thumb at them.

Her actions stilled and she gave him a direct look. "I'm sure they believe they're in love right now and I hope the feeling lasts for them. It would be a shame if they lost the magic."

He raised a brow. "So you're a cynic when it comes to love."

Her lips twitched and she gave him a small smile, but she didn't quite keep the doubts she harbored out of her gaze. "I've learned love is complicated."

Her words made him realize how little he knew of the woman she'd become. He didn't doubt her love when they were together in Ireland. Her gaze would travel over him with want and the way she clung to him when he kissed her—told him her heart belonged to him and him only.

They hadn't laid eyes on each other for ten years. Hadn't she experienced passion with someone else? First loves were never forgotten or so everyone says, but a person moved on...eventually.

His gaze slid over her features: long dark lashes framed her beautiful summer green eyes and her lips… He sighed with longing. Her lips presented a temptation that made him edgy with the need to take her in his arms and indulge. His heart sped up at the thought. His response only proved as a reminder that he hadn't forgotten his first love.

He looked away before he acted on the impulse because he knew he wouldn't stop at kissing her lips.

Her computer drew his attention. "Are you experiencing a bout of writer's block?" He slid a chair over so he could join her.

"You could say that."

He remembered the magazine he'd been holding and plopped it on the table.

She glanced at it before looking at him. "You actually bought an Unbelievable Finds magazine?"

"Of course."

"And what did you think of it?" One finely shaped brow lifted, her eyes bright with anticipation.

"You have a talent, Aubrey. You could make a disbeliever doubt his convictions. Werewolves…or should I say moon shifters are living among us. You know my father used to talk about the wolf clans of Ireland. Swore he saw one of his relatives shift into a wolf."

"You're kidding me."

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug and flashed her a wicked smile. "Well, it could have been just a story. It was Halloween and I begged him for a scary tale."

Her rich laughter made him chuckle, too.

He enjoyed reading the articles in the magazine. They were well written, revealing the legend without sounding condescending. But this was only one issue out of many. Were they all written in this style of believe or don't, your choice? "I know you have to prove if the magic box works or if it's some kind of parlor trick. I get that's your job." He leaned forward resting his forearms on his legs. "You'll be careful when you speak about my granddad in your article, won't you? It would break his heart if you made a mockery of his box."

Her eyes softened when she met his gaze. She leaned forward, placing her hand on his knee. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt your grandfather. Our magazine doesn't work that way. We tend not to be biased. We state the legend or myth with the pros and cons to believe the legend or not to. It's pretty much up to our readers to decide."

"I thought as much, but I had to make sure. I hope I didn't offend you."

Her full lips slid into a smile and she waved her hand in dismissal. "Not at all. If a reporter wanted to interview my grandfather, I'd grill her, too. In my family, we watch each other's back."

It was nice to know family was important to her, too. He sipped his own brew then looked over the rim of the cup, meeting her gaze once more. "May I suggest something that may break your dry spell?"

"I'm open to suggestions?"

"I'm not a writer, but when I need to clear my head, I usually go sailing."

"Hmm, I don't believe I packed a sailboat in my suitcase."

He placed his cup down on the table. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to own one. Can I convince you to play hooky for a few hours?"

Her eyes lit up when she smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."