Fiona’s body still hummed from the kisses she and Aaron had shared in the meadow earlier. It was a pity she’d had a meeting with the builder, otherwise things between her and Aaron might have gone further—like they did in her daydreams.
“Want a cold beer before we walk the wishing trail?” she asked him.
“No, I’ll have one later.”
He held out his hand and she slipped her fingers into his palm. Just touching him like this sent sensation streaking along her nerves. She glanced at him and smiled when he met her eyes. He was so gorgeous and generous, and now that he was her business partner, there was no chance he’d forget her again.
They walked along the old flagstone path across the lawn that was dotted with tables shaded by brightly striped umbrellas. An arched gateway in the ten-foot-high granite wall led to the walled garden that she and Jamie had remodeled to create the wishing jar walk.
A fragrant pink rambling rose laden with blooms clung to the stonework and framed the entrance. Nestled among the stems of the rosebush was the wooden sign she’d put up on the day they opened. It read Wishing Trail, and underneath she’d written the wishing jar poem.
Stardust, magic, and wishes,
Fairies, dreams, and kisses.
Gather them in Wishing Jars,
And the spirit of Ireland
Will grant your desires.
Aaron stopped and read it, a smile tugging at his lips. “Did you write this?”
Fiona’s cheeks heated as his eyes sparkled with mirth. She’d been pleased with the poem when she made it up. Yet it sounded silly now she saw it through his eyes.
“Err, yes.” She pretended to hear something and gazed over her shoulder at the kitchen door.
“Hey.” Aaron tugged gently on her hand to attract her attention. “It’s good, kitten.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers. “I’m afraid my jar isn’t full of stardust and magic, though.” He gave it a shake, and it rattled like the jars of nails Jamie kept in his garden shed.
Fiona laughed, her embarrassment gone. “As long as it contains your wishes and dreams, that’s what matters.”
He gave an enigmatic smile, and her heart tripped. She was almost certain she’d seen one of her hair ties in his jar. The thought sent her hope soaring up with the larks in the summer sky.
“Come on. I’ll give you the grand tour.”
She led him along the cobbled path Jamie had laid. They wandered between flower beds that were a patchwork of color with lavender, pansies, delphiniums, marigolds, anemones, and many more plants, then into the welcome shade of some shrubs. The first seat came into view, a metal bench decorated with elaborate curlicues that she’d picked up in an estate sale, then rubbed down and repainted.
Above it, a huge leafy buddleia bush formed a wall of foliage covered in pendulous purple flowers. An army of butterflies and bees buzzed between the little cups of pollen and nectar.
“This is called butterfly corner for obvious reasons. It’s one of the places people like to leave wishing jars.” She gestured at the rows of jars underneath the seat and tucked among the chunks of granite that lined the path.
Aaron glanced around thoughtfully and shook his head. “Not quite right for me.”
She’d guessed this wasn’t the place he’d choose to leave his jar, but she knew exactly the spot he’d like.
Taking his hand, she led him along the cobbled path underneath four wooden arches covered with climbing roses that formed the rose arbor. This was a popular place for visitors to leave their wishing jars, and many hung on fine wires nestled among the blooms.
“Hang on,” he said. He broke off a yellow rosebud, stripped the thorns from the stem, and tucked it in her hair over her ear. “That looks pretty. You should wear yellow roses in your hair when you get married.”
Her heart leaped, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. Was he dropping a hint? She stared at him, unable to say a word in case something embarrassing burst out of her mouth like, “Do you want to marry me?”
When the silence stretched too long, she dragged her gaze away from him and focused on breathing. He obviously wasn’t about to pop the question. She must be reading too much into a casual compliment.
“Let me show you the fairy grotto.” They held hands again and Fiona walked slowly, trying to calm herself and enjoy the moment rather than keep hoping for promises that were unlikely to come.
“Wow,” Aaron said as they turned a corner. Resting his hands on his thighs, he leaned down to examine the fairy house Jamie had constructed out of pebbles beside a huge hollow tree stump full of bushy green ferns.
The fairy grotto was decorated with odd-shaped rocks, lots of model animals, and carved wooden toadstools with little fairies sitting on them. All around the tableau, tourists had left pretty wishing jars for the lucky Irish fairies to bless.
“I might leave my jar here,” Aaron said.
“This is a lovely place, one of my favorites. But walk to the end of the trail before you make a decision.”
They followed the narrow, winding walk, stopping by a loveseat that was a suntrap in a sheltered nook surrounded by fragrant lilac and huge saucer-shaped purple, pink, and white clematis flowers climbing up a trellis. Merlin was asleep on one side of the warm wooden bench.
“This is Merlin’s loveseat.”
Aaron chuckled. “So he meets female cats here, does he?”
Fiona smiled. “Actually, there has been a pretty gray cat hanging around here recently. It’s quite unusual. I don’t know where it comes from.”
“Maybe it’s a fairy cat.” Aaron raised his eyebrows, his grin teasing.
No doubt he thought the fairy stuff was a load of nonsense and was humoring her the same way Jamie did. But she didn’t mind what the men thought. The wishing trail and wishing jars had proven so successful, there might really be a touch of magic involved.
“The final place to leave jars is the fountain of wishes. It’s my favorite spot on the trail, the only part that’s original.” The part that held the most memories.
“I remember the wishing fountain.”
Aaron followed her along the final twenty yards of twisting pathway until they reached the far wall of the garden. A statue of two lovers entwined stood on a pedestal above the fountain, the water pouring out at their feet and trickling into a large stone bowl below. Shiny coins glinted in the bowl where visitors had thrown them, hoping for a little extra luck at the end of the trail.
It was a hot day, but Fiona felt even hotter as memories flooded her mind. This was where Aaron had kissed her on her sixteenth birthday. It had been the most wonderful day of her life, the sky a dark bowl sparkling with a trillion stars, Ewan’s guitar music playing softly in the distance, the sound of the water burbling. And the melting, mind-shattering sensation of Aaron’s lips against hers.
The memory flowed sweetly for a few moments, then the taint of betrayal crept in to spoil it. This was also the place where he’d made the promises he’d never kept.
Aaron squeezed her hand as if he guessed what was on her mind. “Is this where you put your wishing jar?”
Fiona swallowed hard to hold back tears that suddenly blocked her nose and tightened her throat. She blinked repeatedly until the surge of memories and emotion abated.
“I’ve made a few wishing jars for myself over the years and left them on the trail, but this is where I put the first one, the one that started the whole idea.”
“Can I see it?”
She went cold then hot, her cheeks suddenly burning. She hadn’t expected him to ask this. “I don’t know if it’s still here.” A lie. She checked it regularly to pull off the snails and wipe it clean.
“I’d like to put mine beside yours.”
Fiona froze, overcome with a fresh surge of emotion. She stared into the brown depths of his eyes, searching for sincerity and maybe even love. He looked so earnest, but she’d stood in this same place and stared into his eyes with such hope before.
“Please,” he said softly, and he sounded so young, like the boy she used to know.
A welcome gust of breeze lifted the hair off his forehead. She so wanted to touch his face, to run her fingers through his hair and kiss him and tell him she loved him and always had. Tell him she’d never stopped thinking about him and dreaming about him and longing for him to return.
Instead she nodded and stepped towards the lichen-encrusted stone seat built into the wall on the right of the fountain. Woody wisteria stems covered the wall and curled around the edge of the fountain, the bunches of green leaves and blue flowers dangling down.
Fiona reached into the shade beneath the seat and pulled her precious jar from its mossy corner. She kept her hands curled around it, embarrassed to let Aaron see the photographs and trinkets inside, all things he’d given her or things that reminded her of him.
Yet when he set his jar on the seat and reached for hers, she let him take it and hold it up to the light. He already knew he’d broken her heart when he left and didn’t come back. There was nothing in that jar to surprise him.
Fiona turned away and dangled her fingers in the cool water of the fountain, watching the dappled sunlight sparkle across the newest shiny coins in the depths.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could make up for hurting you.” He crouched and put her jar back in its hiding place, then pushed his own in beside it under the shade of the bench.
He rose and stepped closer, twining their fingers together, then lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. The addictive melting sensation curled in her belly at the brief touch.
“I made a mistake. If I could go back in time and undo it, I would. But the best I can do is promise I won’t make the same mistake again.”
Fiona pressed her face against his neck and his arms closed around her, his hand caressing her back. She trembled inside at the thought of laying her heart on the line again, but she had no choice. It was pointless denying the truth. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you too, kitten.”
He held her close, caressed the bare skin of her shoulder, and rained kisses on her face and neck.
“I don’t want you to go away again.” She knew it was a stupid thing to say. Aaron was still in the Garda, and he’d have to go back to Dublin to deal with the case he was involved in.
His breath rushed out on a frustrated sigh. “I don’t want to go either, but I’m gonna have to. That call earlier was my boss. He wants me in Dublin tomorrow.”
Fiona jerked back in his arms and stared at his face. “You have to go now?”
He nodded, regret in his eyes. “I have no choice, sweetheart. I have a job to do, and it’s important.”
“I know it’s important.” But she still didn’t want him to go.
She didn’t know whether to push him away or cling to him and bury her face against his chest. In the end she clung, curling her fingers in the fabric of his T-shirt.
“I promise that this time I will come back to you,” he said softly in her ear.
She wanted so desperately to believe him, but she’d heard this before, and his voice had been just as sincere and full of regret to be leaving. Even though he now had a stake in her business and things were different, pegging her hopes on him coming back had caused her so much pain. She wasn’t sure she could do that to herself again.