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EVEN AS HE said it, he knew he was opening himself up to Chloe in a way he hadn’t intended. But a part of him was ready. He needed to get out from under the weight of losing Maeve. Doing that meant letting go of anger he was never allowed to show.
“She made me promise I would never confront Cray with anger over what had happened,” he revealed. “That it would drive a wedge betwixt us that might not mend.” He shook his head. “I realize now I never should have agreed to such.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Chloe replied softly, understanding what he alluded to. “It’s not healthy holding in that kind of anger. And while I get that she was trying to keep you and Cray from hating each other, not confronting things can be just as harmful.”
“Aye, ‘tis becoming clear on this journey.” They started back in the direction of the others. “Though I realize now that Cray didnae steal Maeve from me, that he might have even tried turning her away, it doesnae lessen the pain.”
“I don’t imagine it does,” she said gently.
Chloe almost appeared angelic when her kind eyes met his. Sunlight streamed down through the moss-covered trees, illuminating her red highlights. A soft breeze made her heavy curls dance about.
“This, though,” she continued, “finally talking about it with me and maybe even Cray when you’re ready, will help tremendously.” She tilted her head in question. “Have you ever talked to Cray about it? Heard things from his viewpoint? Maeve only asked you not to confront him with anger. She never said you shouldn’t talk to him about it at all.”
“Nay, we havenae spoken about it,” he replied. “It’s only come up the past few days for obvious reasons.”
“That would be me, then?”
“Aye,” he said softly. “That would be you.”
He watched her out of the corner of his eye as they continued walking, more taken with her by the moment. Not just her beauty, but what blossomed inside her. Who she really was. Who she was always supposed to be.
He respected her request about wanting to be with someone who loved her and her alone. More than that, he liked that she desired the same for him. She genuinely wanted him to experience the sort of love he had shared with Maeve again.
But could true love happen twice?
“Maeve made me promise something else.” Needing to confess, he stopped, took her hand, and opened himself up in a way he never thought he would again. Or at least took a step in that direction. “She made me promise I would love again.”
Though he sensed Chloe was startled by his admission, more so the implication he might be ready to open his heart to her, she kept a level expression. While she blushed prettily enough, her words remained logical, her self-confidence growing with her magic. With her ability to see herself clearly rather than through the eyes of a man who had been nowhere near good enough for her.
“Why did you promise Maeve such a thing when you had no intention of seeing it through?” she asked. “Because when you and I first crossed paths, you were determined to remain devoted to her. Heck, just this morning, you were.”
She was right. He had been.
Not for the first time, it caught him off guard how swiftly his feelings for Chloe were progressing. Aye, it could very well be the magic of the Claddagh ring at work, but it almost felt like something more. As if in some strange way, his life had been a dream up to this point.
Now he was finally waking up.
“This morning, I was fooling myself,” he said bluntly. “This morning was before I experienced what ‘twould feel like with distance betwixt us.” He shook his head. “I didnae like it nor the sensation I felt when your life was in danger. ‘Twas...” Heart-wrenching? Soul-draining? Or mayhap so much more. “Near crippling.”
Her eyes widened a little at that, and she inhaled a shaky breath but didn’t act on her emotions. Rather, she remained focused and stood her ground.
“I get it. I felt the connection between us, as well.” She swallowed hard. “But was it enough to let Maeve go?” She searched his eyes. “To move on?” Her gaze narrowed as she thought about it, putting voice to what he’d been thinking moments before. “I guess the question is, do you believe true love can happen twice?”
“Do you?” He was curious where she stood because he sensed she had never felt love. Not the way she should have by now. “More so, do you think it can happen once?”
“I hope so,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. She cleared her throat and continued. “Honestly, if you’d asked me last week, I probably would’ve said no but now...”
When she trailed off, he reeled her a little closer without realizing he was doing it.
“Now?” he prompted.
“Now, I do believe it exists,” she murmured. “That it can happen.” She didn't fight him when he reeled her closer still. “Not just once but twice.”
Fully aware he was on dangerous ground, but eager to feel her skin again, he cupped her cheek, taken in by its incredible softness. Enchanted by how round her sparkling eyes could grow. How even before he kissed her, her lips pinkened as if in anticipation.
“You know I kissed you last night, aye?” he said softly. “That ‘twas not just a dream?”
She nodded, clearly having trouble finding her voice.
“What did ye think of it, lass?” He recalled how deeply he had sunk into that single kiss. “Did ye enjoy the kiss as much as I?”
“I think you know I did,” she whispered. Her gaze fell to his lips. “I’ve never been kissed like that before.” Her curious eyes returned to his. “Is that a wizard thing?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Nay, ‘tis a Hamilton thing.”
Her mouth curled up ever-so-slightly, and she began to say something, but he took the words out of her mouth with a soft kiss. Then another. Then, because he had to sample just a bit more, another. She tasted of wild berries and places he had never been before. Worlds he had never seen. She drove the shadows away and brought peace, where he had felt nothing but strife for so long.
Then he felt even more.
Not just a rush of desire but a level of excitement and arousal he wasn’t accustomed to. As if she felt it too, she pressed close and twisted her hands in his tunic, clutching him as though she feared them being separated. He understood because he felt it too.
“Chloe,” he murmured against her lips, needing to say her name. He cupped her cheeks and deepened the kiss. Lost himself. Their connection became a cord of sunlight in his mind's eye, wrapping around them, drawing their souls closer than their physical bodies could ever get.
Yet he wanted their bodies closer still.
He wanted to see if the rest of her was as soft as her cheeks. If she made the same little breathy moans when he kissed her elsewhere. When he tasted all she had to offer. He trailed his fingers down the curve of her back and cupped her backside, pressing her against his arousal with a need that was almost too much.
Where did she stand on intimacy before love? Even mayhap, without love?
Regrettably, she caught those thoughts and dragged her lips away. Winded, her heart beating nearly as hard as his, she rested her forehead against his chest and murmured, “I’m from the twenty-first century, Aidan, so I’m pretty open minded about sex before love.”
She sighed and met his eyes. “I am, however, opposed to it with no hope of love...especially when it comes to you.” Having found her footing, she stepped away, leaving him with the same awful emptiness he’d felt in the tent that morning. “More specifically, I’m opposed to it without hope of love for me and me alone.”
“Aye then, lass,” he murmured because he didn’t know what else to say. She was right. “As you said, you deserve such.”
He could tell by the flash of disappointment in her eyes that she thought he might say more. That he would give her hope. Yet it was not that simple. While he had begun entertaining the possibility of loving another, it would take more than a kiss and raging arousal to get there.
“We should get back,” she said softly. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment before she started walking again.
He wanted to say he was sorry, but it wasn’t precisely how he felt. Rather he felt hopeful in a way he never had before. As if a curtain was being drawn back, and it was only a matter of time before he saw what he was meant to see. As if, deep down, there was no reason to be sorry. Not when it came to her.
Not when it came to what he ultimately wanted from her but wasn’t quite ready to admit.
“Not yet,” he whispered. “But soon.”
She stopped and turned back slowly as if she had caught that.
As if she understood how far he had really come.
“And you have, love,” she said, her voice different, like a song on the wind. Her eyes sparkled, and for a moment, he swore her features morphed, but it must have been a trick of the light. “For, I made sure of it.” The woodland around them seemed to pulse. “I made sure she loved you too.”
Then, just like that, Chloe vanished into thin air.
