Chapter 22

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Avery caught Cathal’s eye and knocked on the rose-pink front door of Mrs. Nolan’s B&B. He looked acutely uncomfortable. It was an Irish thing, she supposed.

Within seconds, Mrs. Nolan opened. Her wrinkled face relaxed into a grin. “Oh, you’re back. Come in, dears, come in. There’s an awful nip in the air. I was glad you called, Avery. Now, I have the room all set up for you.” Her gaze wavered between both of them, resting on Cathal. “Same one you had last time.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Nolan,” he said gruffly.

“Sleep well.” There was definitely an undertone of I suspect you won’t in the old woman’s voice.

“Well, here we are again,” she said as they entered the bedroom. “But will it be as much fun now that it’s official?”

“Let’s see, then. Let’s get started by doing this.” He peeled the jacket off of her and pressed his lips to her bare shoulders, making her glad she’d worn a sleeveless top today.

He treated her to kisses all over her neck, making her feel exactly like Han Solo had not made Princess Leia feel—that is, cherished. All his discomfort had vanished. He was smoldering, smoking hot, sexy as hell.

Then it got hot, won’t-be-able-to-stop hot. New sweat built up on top of the city grime and old sweat. “Wait, I really need to shower,” she gasped, pulling away. “It’s been a long day.”

“It sure has.” He pressed kisses down her bare arm. But she felt itchy, unclean. She tried to pull away.

“No,” he growled, pulling her back in.

“Cathal, I need a shower. I can’t relax until I’ve had one.”

“Go on then,” he groaned and sank onto the bed, watching her with such intensity she felt self-conscious about undressing in front of him. But kind of excited too.

*

Freshly showered and feeling a lot more princess-like, she lolled against the cool cotton of clean-fragranced bedsheets and pillows, feeling drunk on sheer oxytocin. Cathal had decided he needed to shower now too. Through the door of the bathroom, he was humming a song in his natural tenor’s voice. It sounded like a traditional Irish melody—upbeat, yet mournful.

Why was life so rarely this good? Okay, her childhood had been lousy, with her parents divorcing and then her stepsisters taking over everything, including her mother’s affections. But what about her adult life? Why could she count the instances of this level of contentedness on the fingers of one hand? Why here? Why now? With this man who was nothing like her?

Was it just brain chemicals trying to trick her cavewoman brain into reproducing now that she’d found a viable mate, or was it something else? She’d met viable mates before—by the dozen—on the beaches of LA, in costume at cons, at coding conferences—and contrary to popular belief, not all geeks were ugly. But this felt different, like something inside was clicking into place that had been askew all along. It both scared her and made her want to accelerate it, whatever it was, so that she’d reach its conclusion and find out what it all meant.

But in quieter moments, she could almost start to imagine what a slower place of life with Cathal Cosgrave of Ballybay would be like. Perhaps even a steady job. Nine to five. Reliable income that you didn’t have to constantly chase. Something permanent for once. What did she have in her life that she could call permanent? Oh yeah, that was it: crippling debt.

Something was buzzing. Her phone’s ring tone. It seemed alien. It had been so long—okay, a week—since anyone had called her. After a scramble in the mussed-up duvet, she finally located it.

“Avery,” she answered the unknown number.

“Hi, it’s me.” The unmistakable SoCal drawl of Jeremy.

“Look, I’m not talking—”

“Wait! Do not cut me off. This is important, Avery. Look, I know you’re pissed off—”

“And why do you think that is? Did you purposely call from a different phone so I wouldn’t recognize the number?”

“Yeah, had to. Listen, Avery—”

“No, you listen, you little scumbag. You can’t just call me up after a month and expect—”

“Avery, please! Does the name Gordon Selleck mean anything to you?”

“No.”

“Okay, well, he called me looking for you.”

The name didn’t ring any bells. She should end this conversation, but she needed to know in precisely what way Jeremy had managed to highjack yet another opportunity in her life.

“Look, he’s some Irish dude, the brother of someone you gave your card to. Brian, I think? He wants to meet you, Avery. He’s some kind of venture capitalist interested in what you’re doing. It’s got nothing to do with Venuscode—he just called us because the number was on that card.”

“And he discussed my business with you?”

“Well, he’s interested in a lot of things, so yeah, we got talking about this and that.”

“What did he want?”

“There was something about a meetup on Thursday in Cork where you’ll find out more. I don’t know. He just wanted to check if you were going.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. I know what that’s about.” Then she added somewhat reluctantly, “How are you?”

“It’s a nightmare,” Jeremy groaned. “Acid Test? It’s definitely an acid test. I’m getting an ulcer. They’ve got all kinds of weirded-out notions on coding standards. Tony’s freaked out with the bureaucracy. Simon’s not too happy either. They got cold feet on the funding… it’s not the millions we’d hoped for.”

Fury brewed in her stomach. “Are you calling to get your money back? Because you will not see a damn cent of that.”

“No, that’s yours fair and square. I wouldn’t do that. Come on, Ave.”

She relented. Jeremy wouldn’t, she supposed. The other two—Tony and Si wouldn’t think twice. But for the sake of her old friendship she’d cut him some slack, maybe. Time, and a broadening of her horizons, had lessened the pain of his betrayal. “So, a nightmare, huh?”

“Yeah, I want out. I’ll join you. I’ll code for you, be your right-hand man, just like old times. Gordon Selleck seems to think I’m your assistant.”

“And you let him think that? Goodbye, Jeremy.”

“No, no, no, waaaait,” he pleaded.

She groaned. “What?”

“Just hear me out. That’s not how it went down. I told him dead straight that your business was a solo venture. He’s totally into the idea of a Star Wars travel companion app.”

It annoyed her that Jeremy had evangelized for her, but as opportunities went, this one looked solid.

“Look, long story short, he really wants to meet you Thursday. And he gave me his number to give to you just in case anything happens.” He read off an Irish number.

“Just me?” she asked, after writing it down. Or did Jeremy have notions of coming here as well?

“Just you.”

“Fine.”

“Good. Thanks, Avery. I just couldn’t let an opportunity like this go to waste. For the record, I’d totally go in on this with you, but you would have to want that.”

“Jeremy, you’re gushing. I can feel the saliva from here.”

There was a pause. “Okay. See you, Avery.”

“Yeah, bye.” She rushed to hang up first, groaned, and flopped back on the pillow.

She couldn’t deny she was buzzing from that call. This Gordon guy seemed to be professional, and keen. And as for Jeremy, she could do with another coder’s help, for all the graphics rendering especially. Most of all, though, it was killing her to have all these ideas about the next locations she wanted to tackle, and not be able to share them with anyone. There really wasn’t enough time in one lifetime to hold a grudge against someone who could potentially help her out in her goals. Her choice had to be to forgive him.

Cathal sauntered out, drying his hair on a fluffy towel which he threw on the chair before sliding onto the bed, arms outstretched as if he was taking a dive into water. Still lost in thought, she let her gaze linger on the contours of his shoulder muscles… how wild and natural he looked with water droplets shining like pearls on the taut skin of his muscles.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing.” She reached for him and slid her arms around his neck. When he sidled up closer, peeled back the dressing gown with a look of reverence, ran his fingertips over her breasts, her thoughts vanished in a purr of contentment.

“Okay, where were we?” Cathal said, as if they’d been doing this all evening.

She arched her back into him. “Exactly here,” she said on a sigh.