This is it. The only time I will allow myself to cry before I get home. I can’t be a blubbering mess when things need to get done. I sob, lying here on the bathroom floor. Snot falls out of my nose and gets stuck in my throat. I cough and spit.

Memories of my beautiful, sweet, caring, loving grandmother flood my memory. She was everything to me, and I was to her. Whenever I needed someone, she was there with her unwavering support and freshly washed cotton smell. The epitome of courage and loyalty. I don’t know how I’m going to get along without her.

A deep pit of aching forms in my chest and squeezes at my heart. I’m not prepared to deal with this loss on top of everything else. I’ll have to shift my mask back into place and get to business, just like I always do.

When the tears ebb, I stand and stare at myself in the mirror. My eyes are purple-red and bags hang there like dirty laundry. Dark mascara has run down my cheeks like roads and valleys on a map. I rinse off my face and dry it with a towel. It’s not good, but it’ll have to do for now.

I sneak out of the bathroom and pad toward the nightstand where my purse is. I’ll need my credit card to book a new flight. I try to let my eyes adjust to the darkness, but the blinds are doing a good job of blocking out any form of light. I reach for the bag and hit the lamp instead. Grabbing for it in the dark is a wasted effort as the brass lamp crashes to the floor and lands squarely on my foot. I let out a whoop, jump around, and try to rub it at the same time. Braeden is up and out of the bed in a millisecond. “What’s wrong?”

“Hit my foot,” is all I can get out. The sharp pain throbs and I must look like a fool hopping around the room.

Braeden switches on the main lights and comes over to me. He’s still naked and gorgeous with his mussed-up hair. I can’t believe I can get turned on when I’m in agony. “Sit down. Let me look at it.”

I take a seat at the edge of the bed. He examines me and says, “Stay here. I’m going to get some ice from the lobby.” He throws on a pair of shorts, grabs a washcloth, and leaves the room. In less than two minutes, he’s back with the ice and places it on my foot.

Initially the cold stings, but quickly turns to a pleasant numbness. “Thank you. Sorry I woke you.”

“What were you trying to do?”

I’m not going to lie to him, but I was hoping to avoid this conversation until after my ticket was booked and I had a plan in place. “I was getting my purse. I need to leave, so I was going to book a flight in the bathroom, but I needed my credit card. It’s so damn dark in here that I knocked over the lamp and woke you up.”

“Wait. Why are you leaving?”

I suck back the lump forming in the back of my throat and press my lips together. “My grandmother died. I have to go make arrangements,” I say it as detached as I can. I know Braeden would be a soft place for me to fall in this moment, but that’s it. As soon as I’m gone, it’s over. I can’t get attached and relying on him for emotional comfort will do just that. I’ll fall hook, line, and sinker and heaven knows I won’t be able to crawl out of that mess with everything else going wrong in my life.

“Oh, god. I’m so sorry. I know she was important to you.”

“Yes. She was.”

He throws his warm arms around me and I can smell us on him. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. I can’t do anything until I get home.” I pull away from him even though it’s physically painful to do so. “I have to call the airline.”

He’s up and off the bed and digging through his bag. “Screw calling them. You could wait on hold forever. It’ll be easier on my laptop.”

He goes over to the desk and pulls up a travel site. I take the ice off my foot and move it around. It’s comfortably numb. I stand next to him as he types away at the keys.

“You don’t have to do this. I can take care of it. I can probably just change my ticket and I know you must be tired.”

“I’ll take care of it.” The computer loads up several flight options for the morning and my stomach sinks when I see the prices. He clicks on the first flight out.

“I can’t afford that one. Scroll down and see if the prices are less.”

“You need to get out of here, right?”

“Yes.” My voice comes out soft and timid.

“Then let me do this for you.” He pulls his credit card out of his wallet and enters in the numbers.

“It’s too much.”

He turns his head toward me with eyes full of support and patience. “It’s done.”

I want to cry and kiss his cheeks with gratitude. But I don’t. “I can pay you back.”

He stands up and wraps himself around me, cocooning me. The gesture is protective and caring. I sink into him and soak it up. “Your flight leaves in a few hours. We better get you packed up. And I’m driving you to the airport.”

I want to protest. He’s doing too much. It’s all too much, but the look in his eyes tells me there’s nothing I can do to stop him.

I go in the bathroom and wash up. After I’m dressed, I gather my belongings and pack them in the overnight bag I brought with me to Cork. Braeden is dressed and waiting for me.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Yeah. I think I have everything.” I scan the room one last time.

“I called a cab. They should be outside waiting for us.”

I nod at him as he opens the door for me. He grabs my hand and squeezes it.

He was right, there is a taxi waiting outside the hotel doors. We get in and sit in silence for the ten-minute trip to the airport. He leaves his hand on my thigh. It’s warm and I wish it would be there the entire flight home. I’m going to miss this.

When we get to departures and the cab comes to a stop, I want to get out and run to avoid a long goodbye. My resolve is hanging by a thin thread. If he plucks it, it’ll snap loose and who knows what will happen then.

“Come here.” He pulls me in close. He smells like leather, spice, and crisp Irish air. I don’t want to let go.

“Thank you. For everything. I’ve had an amazing time in Ireland.” I wish it didn’t get cut short.

“You’re welcome. And thank you.”

“For what?” I can’t imagine what I might have done to deserve any thanks from him.

He pushes my hair away from my face, grabs my cheeks with his hands, and lowers his forehead to mine. “Thank you for being you. Ireland wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

I laugh.

He kisses my nose and then my mouth. When his tongue presses against mine in the sweetest, softest way, I think it might break me. One traitorous tear falls down my face. Instead of acknowledging it, I deepen the pressure and grab the back of his head bringing him closer to me. The push and pull of our tongues creates an ache deep in my core. I press my body to him, feeling how hard he is against me. “God, I’m going to miss this.” It slips past my lips and I regret the words as fast as I say them. I am in a lust-filled haze standing in front of the airport. I can’t be held responsible for the things I say.

“Me, too.” He moans into my mouth. “But if you don’t walk away soon, I’m going to take you right here. Not to mention you need to get in there. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure all of your stuff gets sent back to you.” I can’t believe that I didn’t even think about my suitcase that we left in Dublin. It was too big to carry on the back of his motorcycle. We left it at the hotel.

There aren’t words for this moment. I hate goodbyes. Instead, I lean in and kiss his cheek. “See you later.”

“Oh, yes, you sure will.” He’s got a sly grin plastered on his face. “And please. Don’t hesitate to call me. For anything. Okay?”

“Okay. Thanks.” And that’s when I turn and walk away from Braeden McLoughlin and Ireland.