Chapter 15

Cathal glared at the engine in dismay. Why now? Nothing seemed obviously wrong, other than the fact that it was a smoky mess, too hot to touch, and whatever replacement parts were necessary had probably gone out of production several decades ago.

They were alone in the car park. It was too late for sensible tourists.

“Can you call for help?” Avery paced around him, shaking her phone. “My battery’s just died.”

“I don’t have my phone with me.”

“What? Not at all?” Her voice was shrill. “Not even for emergencies? Why not?”

“Well, if you hadn’t taken all those videos you’d still have power enough to do what you’re supposed to do with a phone, which is call people.”

She put her hand on her hips. “Well, listen to you, Mister Too-scared-to-carry-a-phone-in-case-someone-does-call-him. I mean, all you had to do was put it in airplane mode and they wouldn’t be able to reach you.”

“It’s not to stop them calling me, it’s to stop me calling them,” he growled.

He spun around and walked away from the engine, away from her, to the far side of the car park. He kicked uselessly at some pebbles, trying to rein in his temper. “This is what I get.” He shook his fist at the darkening sky. “I shouldn’t even be here.”

When, after some minutes, he had calmed down enough to be civil again, he turned and made his way over to the car. He was being stupid. He should apologize for that. The car was his idea and he had to solve this.

She was inside. It was a good idea for her to conserve energy and heat. He peered in the window. She had plugged the phone into a USB slot of her computer to load it up. Smart woman. They were saved.

He slipped inside and shut the door quickly. “Sorry. I kind of lost it there.”

She nodded, still engrossed in her screen.

“You have internet? I have Jimmy’s number but something tells me he’ll be too comfortable in the pub. He’ll be in no state to be of any use. We’ll need to search for pickup services—the nearest big one would be Tralee. If you hand me the computer I’ll go through the options.”

“Okay, sure,” she waved him off. “Just give me a moment.”

Restless, he got out, walked around, and looked at the mess again. From working with tractors with his father he recognized the ignition and the cooling systems but that didn’t help much. They’d need a tow back for sure. Jimmy could have mentioned it was a dud.

Where were all the tourists? Yes, this road was quiet, but by now someone should have come, surely. Plus, it was approaching 6 p.m., after which it would be difficult to get anyone to come out.

Avery was busy typing away. Maybe for once he shouldn’t help. She might be more persuasive than he in getting some garage worker to do an unscheduled trip so near the end of the day. But when five minutes went by, he assumed she was having difficulties finding somewhere open, or someone she could understand.

He opened the door again. “Any luck?”

“It’s a bit slow, the upload speed.”

A video of green grass and mountains dominated her screen. He recognized Kilmalkedar church. “What are you doing?”

“Just uploading the videos. They came out fantastic.”

“Not getting help then?”

“In a minute,” she said tersely. “They need feeding, Cathal. And one of them had an idea for my app so we’re discussing that. It’s—”

“Here’s another idea: We get out of here before that storm blows.”

Avery craned her neck to look to where he was pointing. A humongous grey cloud hung over Mount Brandon, and seemed to be approaching. Rapidly.

“Uh-oh,” she said.

“Give me the phone, Avery.” Cathal thrust his hand into the space between them. This was non-negotiable. Her Instagram followers could wait.

With a scowl, she handed it over.

“I’m going to call Jimmy. You’re going to search for pickup and recovery companies in Tralee. Got that?”

“Fine,” she growled.

He spoke to a sleepy-sounding Jimmy who sounded unsurprised at their misfortune and could list off a tow truck number off by heart. Funny that. He memorized the number and called it. The man on the other end said he could pick them up in an hour, give or take.

“An hour?” Avery sounded pleased and stuck her nose back into her screen.

They sat in the car with the rain splattering down in heavy drops. The sound became hypnotic. The temperature dropped.

“At least it’s waterproof,” he said in an effort to get her talking again. “Look, I’m sorry if I was a bit harsh back there. It just seemed you were playing games while we were in a difficult situation.”

“That’s okay. You were right.” She let out a heavy sigh, waving at her busy screen which had at least six chat windows open. “I can see how it would look like mere games.”

“I know it’s not.”

“Exactly. It’s my livelihood.”

Her grim, defeated tone made him want to take her into his arms, but something held him back.

She fingered the stickers of robots and extra-terrestrial creatures on her laptop lid. “I’m hanging by a thread, Cathal. You’ve no idea. I’ve started a hundred projects and none of them have taken off. I’ve been ingenious, popular, inspired, influential, but the bank balance has stayed more or less the same since I graduated college five years ago.” She laughed ruefully. “I don’t like to talk about it. Especially not to an accountant. You’ll probably tell me I should have balanced my expenditures with my earnings or something.”

“I won’t tell you that.” He slid his hand over to cover hers, held limply against her closed laptop, cold to the point of freezing. It made her look up, startled. He kept his hand in place, offering her his warmth. “As an accountant, I think you’re adventurous, spirited, passionate, smart, and all-around amazing. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Her eyes widened further.

“You seem to live life by different rules,” he continued, “and I can’t imagine what it would be like to be you.” He put his thumb under her chin and tilted it up. “Remember, your bank balance doesn’t define you. What you do doesn’t define you. You’re so much more than that.”

The smooth coolness of her skin sent a roar of awareness through him. She frowned at him through the thick silence, as if this were a complicated message, but it really couldn’t be simpler. He leaned over the gear box and into her space, brushing dark strands of hair from her forehead, tucking them on each side behind her ears, playing for time. The sudden need to explore her, to conquer her, made his body ache, but he had to be sure she wanted it just as much.

She was clutching her laptop, breathing fast, her chest rapidly rising and falling. He smoothed his fingertips over the roundness of her cheeks. She had become precious to him in a short space of time. Cupping his hands around her neck, he thought how small and delicate she seemed, like a helpless bird. He massaged gently along her jaw, keeping her face tilted up to him. Those lips—he’d dreamt of them three nights in a row. They were slack now, glistening and trembling. Her dark gaze flickered between his eyes and his mouth, questioning, beseeching him to make a move. Yes, she wanted it.

A sharp rap came on the windowpane, as intrusive as a gunshot. His hands flinched away from her face and she let out a muted squeal.

A guy in a dirty overall was standing at the side window, peering in at them, his face like a pale ghost against the gloom.

Cathal groaned and rolled down the window.

“Was it you that called for the tow?” the man said in a squeaky Cork accent. “Or maybe you wanted to stay here the night?” His watery eyes moved over to Avery.

“It was me all right,” Cathal said through gritted teeth. “Thanks for getting here so fast.”