Megan

Megan finished dragging the last of her camping gear into the foyer at the crack of dawn. She pushed her glasses into her unruly hair and rubbed her eyes. It was too early for contacts. She’d stayed up entirely too late talking to her mom and Stan last night. But it had been worth it. They’d renewed her strength, reminding her that all her worrying wouldn’t stop the bad stuff from happening, it would only stop her from enjoying the good. And Megan had a lot of good in her life. Two parents who loved her, great friends and an opportunity of a lifetime to make a film in Ireland.

She settled down on a comfy chair near the fireplace and checked the time on her phone. Megan was surprised to be the first one ready. She wasn’t known for her punctuality, that was more Sam’s specialty. Megan was in the middle of tapping out a text to Sam when Devon came jogging into the foyer.

“Hey,” she greeted. “I was just getting ready to text you guys.”

“Megs, I’ve got some bad news.”

“What’s wrong?”

Devon rubbed the back of his neck. “Sam’s sick.”

“What?” Sam never got sick. “Is she okay?”

“I think she’ll be fine. Just a touch of dicky tummy, I suspect.”

“Excuse me?”

Devon sighed. “It just means she’s been up all night retching.”

Megan wrinkled her nose. “Oh no.”

“She swears it’s just something she ate, but between us, I think she’s plain overworked herself. She’s been exhausted for weeks.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Megan asked.

“Nah. Sam won’t listen to me, but at least her father’s convinced her to go to the clinic just to be sure it’s nothing serious.”

“That’s good.”

Devon rubbed the back of his neck again. “I don’t feel right leaving Sam. Would ye hate me if I skip out on the first leg of our camping trip?”

“No, of course not, Devon. Go take care of Sam.”

Devon gave Megan a quick hug. “Thanks, Megs. Maybe we can catch up with ye in Killarney if Sam’s feeling solid.”

As he jogged back down the hall, Megan called after him. “Keep me posted.”

Devon shot her a thumbs up.

Just then, Zander pulled up out front in the Defender. He parked and left it running as he sauntered into the foyer looking like he’d just stepped out of a hunky outdoorsmen advertisement. Boots, beanie and backpack were a good look on him. Then again, what didn’t look good on Zander—or not on Zander?

Megan shook herself from her daze, realizing Zander had asked her something. “What?”

“I said, where is everyone?” Zander repeated, taking off his shades.

“Oh, um it’s just us.”

“What do ye mean?”

“Devon’s taking Sam to the clinic. She has the stomach flu.”

Zander looked like Megan had just told him Santa wasn’t real. Was the idea of spending the weekend with her that horrifying?

“Maybe we should postpone the trip?” Zander suggested.

“Devon said they’ll catch up with us if Sam’s up for it.”

“It won’t hurt to wait a day, will it?”

“Zander, I really need to get these shots for the film.”

He pulled out his phone and dialed someone, striding back outside. When he came back in he looked angry, but he started scooping up Megan’s gear and carrying it out to the Defender.

“What was that about?” Megan asked following him to the car.

“Just confirming things with Devon.”

Megan’s mouth dropped open. “Did you think I was lying?”

Zander didn’t respond. He just climbed into the driver’s seat and strapped himself in. Megan sighed, walking around to take the seat next to him. It was going to be a very long weekend if this was how Zander planned on behaving. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that even lemons could be made into vodka lemonade.

Zander

The drive to the Burren wasn’t as painful as Zander had expected. Megan synced up her phone and played DJ as he drove. They could at least still talk about music. Music was safe. Music didn’t make him want to tear her clothes off—consequences be damned.

Megan had excellent taste in music and Zander found his mood softening as he listened to the upbeat songs, letting the sun warm him through the windshield. He could almost pretend he was happy as he watched Megan stare out the window in awe of the misty green landscape they passed.

He loved seeing her so delighted. He knew how much she’d wanted to see Ireland and he’d always wanted to be the one to show it to her. Zander loved his country. He was a proud Irishman and introducing Megan to the majestic wonders of his homeland should’ve been a dream come true. But it was dampened by his fears.

Zander had always imagined this would be an experience that brought them closer together. And as much as he tried to fight it, he still wanted to be closer to Megan. He craved her with the devastation of an illness. He could hardly eat or sleep the entire time he’d been gone, but being back wasn’t any easier. Megan consumed his mind and not being able to act on his desires was killing him.

He realized he was the only one standing in his way, but he’d convinced himself it was for the best. He’d tried to distance himself from Megan to protect her. But distance would be hard to come by the next few days.

Zander focused his eyes on the road, determined to keep his guard up. He’d already let Megan get too close and the repercussions had been severe. He couldn’t let it happen again.

Megan

Megan couldn’t put into words how blown away she was by the wild beauty of the Burren. The massive national park stretched on for miles, its uninhabited landscape looking more like a host for alien life forms than anything she’d ever expected to find only a few hours from Dublin.

Crags of fossilized limestone jutted in every direction, drenched with fog and dripping with glowing green moss and arid desert-like plants.

“This place looks like a fairyland,” she said breathlessly as Zander cruised slowly down the dirt path they’d been following for miles.

“Reminds me of the House of the Holy,” Zander said, referring to Led Zepplin’s iconic album cover.

“Definitely,” Megan concurred.

Zander queued up ‘D’yer Mak’er’ and she grinned. It was her favorite Zepplin song. The fact that he was playing it gave her hope that the boy she’d fallen for was still hidden somewhere inside the stony façade Zander had taken up recently.

Their journey to the Burren hadn’t been as uncomfortable as Megan expected. She’d refused to let his mood upset her and went about the trip as she would’ve with anyone—happy and grateful.

Megan had seemed to win Zander over some by talking about music. Falling into their familiar roles of debating song titles and band names eased some of the earlier tension. Food seemed to help too.

Megan had packed a cooler full of sugary treats. It should’ve lasted them much longer than it did. But she suspected both of them kept their mouths full of food to absorb the moments of awkward silence they’d weathered.

“I think this is a good spot to start filming,” Megan said, hanging her head out the window.

Zander pulled the Defender onto a soft shoulder and Megan eagerly leapt out to unpack her film gear. She’d been shooting as they drove with her small shotgun camcorder, but she was anxious to try out her shoulder rig in such an expansive landscape.

Zander

Zander trailed Megan as they hiked through the Burren. She was so busy staring through her lens that she’d almost fallen twice and it was making him a nervous wreck. He kept close to her, his hand hovering near the small of her back to catch her whenever she was off-kilter.

The terrain in the Burren was unforgiving. Crevices split the limestone like a snaking grid. A misstep could easily result in a broken ankle or twisted knee. Zander found himself relieved he’d decided to come with Megan on this expedition. If she’d been out here alone he would’ve been worried sick.

Then there was the matter of her breathing. Ireland in February was brutal. Zander’s own lungs ached as he puffed steaming clouds of mist with every exhalation. He found himself watching Megan’s cloud breaths with restless interest.

So far she seemed fine, but Zander’s worry for Megan was never far from his mind. Despite her tiny size she was fearless, jumping ravines and climbing crumbling stones to get the perfect shot. A Shakespearean quote popped into his mind as he watched her. ‘Though she be but little, she is fierce.’

The trouble was, Megan was almost as clumsy as she was ambitious. After helping her cross a wide gap in the stones, Zander gave up trying to anticipate her blundering footsteps and just kept his hand attached to the belt loop of her jeans.

After two hours of filming Zander gave her belt a tug. “We should be heading back soon.”

“I just want to get one more panoramic,” Megan said scanning the horizon.

Zander watched her zero in on a crumbling rock face a few feet above them.

“I think I can get a great shot from up there.”

“What’s wrong with right here?” he asked.

“It would be a better shot if I was about ten feet taller.”

“Would ye settle for six, four?”

“Huh?”

“Just get on my shoulders, I don’t want ye climbing that death trap.”

“Why not?”

Because I’m worried yer gonna stop breathing on me again. “Because the boulder looks one breath away from turning to sand,” Zander grumbled. “Shoulders. Take it or leave it.”

Megan smirked. “Should we work out a cheerleading routine first, or . . .”

“Just get on with it,” Zander griped. “We’re running outta daylight.”

Megan’s laughter echoed through the barren landscape as she tried to situate herself atop Zander’s shoulders. Once she’d stopped laughing and managed to balance herself, Zander handed Megan her camera, slowing standing to his full height.

“This is perfect,” she called. “Can you turn in a slow 360 degrees?”

“Sure, would ye like me to do any other tricks, yer Highness?”

“Hey,” she teased pinching his ear. “This was your idea.”

“Don’t remind me,” he muttered.

The moment Megan climbed onto his shoulders, Zander knew this had been a bad idea. His hands firmly gripped her voluptuous thighs, which rubbed either side of his neck, and when she’d slid her hands through his hair to steady herself it’d sent shudders through him.

He’d barely been able to conceal his frustrating attraction to her all day. Why in Christ’s name had he thought having her thighs around his neck was a good idea?

Finally, Megan had the shot and Zander helped her down. She packed up her gear and Zander offered to take the heavy pack from her. Halfway back to the car, Megan took another misstep. Zander grabbed her arm to steady her, but she still went down.

“Shit!” Megan howled rubbing her knee as she clamored back to her feet.

“Ye okay?”

She hissed in pain. “Yeah, just banged my knee.”

“Let me see.”

“I’m fine. It’ll just be one hell of a bruise tomorrow.”

“Can ye walk?”

Megan looked at him like he was insane. “Yes, Zander. It’s just a bump.”

“Yer sure?”

She took his hand. “I’m not made of glass, ya know?”

“Right.”

There wasn’t any accusation in Megan’s voice, but suddenly Zander felt like a wanker for acting like a nervous ninny around her all day.

“Thanks,” Megan said, not letting go of his hand as they continued their trek back to the car.

“For what?”

“For coming with me today. This was fun.”

Warmth unexpectedly spread through Zander’s chest like wildfire as Megan smiled up at him. What a hopeless fool he was.