Irish Sex Fairy

Chapter Sixteen

Shane drove to Santa Ynez. Above them, a few wispy clouds streaked the cerulean sky. Golden fields stretched away from the highway, to the Santa Ynez Mountains, and yellow, orange and purple wildflowers brightened the roadside. At one point, they passed two men on horseback, plodding along in the hot sun, their Stetsons shielding their faces from the sun. One lifted a hand in a greeting as they passed.

Shane parked his vehicle on the main street in Santa Ynez, and they stood on the sidewalk looking at the western-style buildings, a quaint contrast to Kilkenny’s Irish ambience.

“Where should we have lunch?” he asked. “How about the Ranchman’s Coffee Shop?”

The sun lit up Keara’s hair into a fiery halo. She’d slid sunglasses onto her face so he couldn’t see her eyes, but her lips curled into a smile. “Sure.”

He took her hand as they walked across the street, felt her almost withdraw from his grasp then relax.

They entered the coffee shop and were soon seated. Inside was all wood and wrought iron, with leather and western artifacts decorating the walls and shelves.

“Cute,” she commented, pushing her big sunglasses on to the top of her head, gazing around with interested eyes.

She was cute. Damn. He dragged his gaze away from her to look at the menu the hostess had set in front of him. They ordered lunch, took their time eating.

“You’ve been doing better lately, haven’t you,” Shane said, fingers playing with a paper napkin. He looked up from it.

Keara nodded. “Yes.” She pressed her lips together, and met his eyes. “Thanks to you.”

He grinned. “I’ve been told I have an amazing effect on women.”

She laughed. “I guess it’s true.”

“Seriously, though.”

“Better, but I still get a bit anxious thinking about going back to work. I’m still worried about being able to make decisions.”

“Don’t go back.”

Her eyes flew wide. “What?”

He shrugged and looked down at the paper napkin again. “Don’t go back. If it’s worrying you, maybe it’s not worth it. It’s just a job. You can find another one.”

She stared at him, lips parted. Then she shook her head. “I can’t do that. It’s not just a job. It’s my career. It’s…who I am.”

“It’s not all of who you are,” Shane said softly. “You’re more than just a bank manager, Keara.”

“Well, I know, but…you don’t understand.”

“Make me understand.”

She tilted her head and gazed across the coffee shop for a long moment, then back at him. “My parents were very um…successful. My dad was the CEO of Palladium. I was just starting my career there when they were both killed in a car accident.”

Shane’s breath leaked out. He nodded.

“My mom was a vice president at Ezron Savings and Loan. They both wanted me to follow in their footsteps. They helped me take the best courses in college.”

“Your dad got you the job.”

“No.” Her chin jutted. “I got the job on my own. I wanted to make him proud. And he was. I wanted to make them both proud. And now they’re gone, I feel like I have a mission—to go as high in the bank as I can. I may not ever be CEO, but I have a career plan at Palladium. I’m going to do it. I’m going to get back on track, and I’m still going to do it. I have to.”

He nodded slowly, turning her words over in his head. That explained quite a bit. Her determination and dedication to her career. He got it. For some reason, it kinda made him feel depressed. But he got it. There were things that mattered that much to him, too, including his own career.

“You will,” he agreed and forced a smile. “You are smart and strong, Keara. You’ll do it and it’ll be fine.”

“Thanks.” Her hesitant smile made his heart squeeze.

After lunch, they emerged back out into bright spring sunshine and both slid sunglasses on.

“Let’s wander around, look in some of the shops,” Shane said, starting down the street, again taking her hand. This time her fingers curled into his warm and willing. “There are some nice places and wine-tasting rooms.”

“Sounds cool.”

They spent a while in one room where artists were painting, then tasted a few different wines. They browsed in a few interesting little shops and galleries, sat in the sunshine and ate ice cream, then started the drive to The Bridle Path Winery.

Tidy vineyards lined the narrow road to the winery, and the parking lot they arrived at was crowded. “This is a popular place,” Shane said.

“It’s stunning.” Keara took in the white stucco with typical clay tile roof, and they entered through a wide, vine-covered arch in the stucco wall. Potted palms and colorful flowers adorned the stone courtyard and a long, shaded veranda lined one long side. Water splashed in a fountain in the center of the courtyard and sparkled in the sun.

“This is a 2002 Pinot Noir,” they were told as they accepted a glass of ruby-red wine. They each swirled the glass, inhaled the aromas of cherry, raspberry and sweet vanilla-oak. “This wine has typical red fruit flavors, like raspberries, cranberries and cherries, with spice on the long finish. Big but balanced. If you like Pinot Noir, you should enjoy this one.”

Next they sampled a Syrah, with the taste of blackberry, smoky pipe tobacco, white pepper and oak. At the end of their tasting, Shane asked, “Which one did you like best?”

“Hmm. I think the Pinot Noir.”

And he bought a bottle of it and handed it to her. “Here. For you.”

“Thank you,” she said slowly, taking the bottle in both hands.

“Maybe you’ll share it with me some time.”

She tipped her head and smiled. “Maybe.”

A few days later, Keara was supervising the installation of the security system on the door. Maeve had opted for a key pad, and each person who had access would have their own code. It made Keara feel better about Maeve’s safety after she was gone.

And speaking of leaving… “Keara, a call for you.”

It was Stefanie, the disability case manager, calling to see how she was doing. She’d said she’d check on her this week.

“I’m feeling pretty good,” Keara said into the phone. But the thought of going back to work still caused the tight clenching of her gut. She’d finally confessed her fears out loud to Shane. It wasn’t just post-traumatic stress disorder from the hostage taking. Maybe that had been part of it, at first—having your life threatened like that would be enough to do it—but in addition to that, facing the mistakes she’d made in her management of the bank, the way she’d treated staff and her fear that she wouldn’t be able to make sound, rational business decisions still filled her with doubts. What if she went back and she couldn’t cut it anymore? Her job was her whole life.

She gripped the telephone.

“That’s wonderful,” Stefanie said brightly. “So what do you think about going back to work next week?”

“Next week?” Keara turned in a circle and stared into space. “Well, I still don’t have a car.”

“You know, I mentioned there are other ways to get you back to Los Angeles.”

“I know. I expect to hear from the insurance company this week. I could probably go ahead with getting a new vehicle.” She had to, sometime. There just didn’t seen any big rush there in Kilkenny, where she could walk a lot of places, and truthfully, she didn’t have many places to go.

“I just…I’m not sure,” she said.

Stefanie’s voice got firmer. “Keara. Unless we have something in writing from a medical professional—Dr. Cogan, for example—saying that you can’t work, we won’t be able to keep paying your benefits.”

The disability insurance company was depositing money into her account every two weeks. She hadn’t spent much since she’d been in Kilkenny. Her rent was paid for this month. She had savings and some investments—she was a finance person after all. She was smart with money. But the prospect of no income coming in was not exactly appealing. Great.

“Well then,” she said a bit stiffly. “I guess I really don’t have much choice.”

“Of course it’s your choice,” Stefanie said, back to cheery. “But you should know that the bank is getting anxious about you coming back. This costs them money too, and they’d rather have you back at work.”

“Of course.”

Money. It all came down to money. Now she was the number. She rolled her lips in and clenched her teeth. “I understand,” she said. “I’ll see what I can do about getting a car. I don’t think I can be back next week, but how about the Monday the week after?”

“That sounds wonderful! I’ll let them know that’s the plan.”

Keara clicked off the phone and stared blindly at it. She was going home.

“My mom wants me to bring you for dinner tomorrow,” Shane said. They lay in his bed Friday night, wrapped around each other as usual in a haze of postcoital satisfaction.

“Me and Maeve?”

“No. Just you.”

She looked at him. “Is it a party?”

He shook his head, and his eyes shifted away. “No. They just want to have you over.”

“Why?”

“Because…we’ve been…uh…”

“Having sex?” Her dry tone grated on him and he frowned.

“No. Well yes, but…they think we’re seeing each other.”

She laughed, a short, tight laugh. “Don’t they know you’re just helping me out?”

“Uh…haven’t discussed that with them, actually. And I’m sure you don’t want me to.”

“I guess not.” She eyed him warily. “But it’s probably not a good idea for them to think there’s more between us than there is.”

Shane’s stomach tightened. He took a deep breath. “Maybe there could be.”

She blinked at him. “Like what?”

“Like…” Christ, this was hard. Sweat prickled his underarms and his heart thudded. “Keara, I…really like you.”

She smiled. “Thanks. I like you too.”

He closed his eyes, felt like he was jumping out of a speeding cop car on a high-speed chase. “Keara. I think I’m falling in love with you.”

She stared at him for a long, fraught moment. Then she rolled away from him and off the bed, reaching for his shirt on the chair and dragging it on. She wrapped it around herself, holding it with her arms. He watched her, dismay sliding through him in hot shivers.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going back to LA.”

“When?” he challenged. “Why?”

“I told them I’d be back to work a week from Monday. I’ll leave next weekend.”

Shane’s breath stopped. He kept his face tight and controlled. “Next week. You’re leaving next week.”

She nodded. “The case manager called, and said I need something from a doctor if I’m going to stay off any longer. I haven’t seen a doctor, and I’m feeling better…” He saw the shadow pass over her face as she said that. “So I have to go back.”

“Oh. Jesus.” He let his head fall back down to the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. She hadn’t talked about leaving and he’d just thought maybe she was enjoying it in Kilkenny and might stay longer. Like forever.

He was a fucking idiot.

He couldn’t believe this was happening to him again.

“But I’d love to see your parents before I go.”

He lifted his head to gape at her. Was she serious? Apparently so, standing there, his shirt wrapped tight around her pretty body, emerald eyes blinking at him.

Shit. He felt like he might just puke up the meal he’d eaten earlier. And yet, he knew if he had only a week left with her, he’d spend every minute with her he could. So he’d torture himself by taking her to dinner with his parents, pretending everything was just hunky-dory, as his mom would say, so Keara could say goodbye to them.

His parents definitely had the wrong idea. They were being so nice to her, they clearly thought she was their future daughter-in-law. And so, over dessert, she said, “I want to thank you for having me over so I could say goodbye to you before I leave.”

Fiona’s mouth opened and she paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Leave?”

Keara nodded and smiled brightly. “I’m going home. Next weekend.”

“You are?” Fiona said slowly. “For good?”

“Well, yes. I have to get back to work.”

“But…” Fiona glanced at Declan, who also looked…puzzled.

Damn. She was hurting them? That was crazy. They didn’t even know her.

“Well then. I should give this to you now, then.” Fiona rose from her chair and crossed to the sideboard. She picked up a small silver box and handed it to Keara.

Reluctantly, Keara took it. She paused before opening it, glancing at Shane, whose dark scowl told her he was pissed off. His parents were going to hate her for doing this to him. Despair and sorrow twisted in her as she slipped the lid off the box and saw the oval of marble, a soft glowing pink streaked and flecked with gold.

It was similar to the stone she’d admired the last time she’d been there. The one Maeve had given them. A vow of friendship between families. She tried to speak but the words stuck in her tight throat. She coughed and tried again. “It’s beautiful,” she choked out and lifted it from the box.

“Declan said you’d admired the one we have.”

Keara nodded, and replaced it in the box. “I did. But you shouldn’t have.”

“It’s nothing,” Fiona said, but Keara felt her guarded disappointment. Oh hell, she was making a huge mess of things here. She should never have gotten involved with Shane’s family. “It’s a symbol of friendship. Between families.”

“So,” Declan said briskly. “Your job must be important to you.”

“Yes. It’s very important to me. I feel bad that I’ve been gone so long. But there’s no reason not to go back.”

The hell there wasn’t. But she ignored that thought and focused on the reasons she had to go back. She picked up her fork to finish her cheesecake, then set it down, unable to eat.

“I see,” Fiona said quietly. She gave a sharp look at Shane, then laid her own fork down. “Coffee anyone?”

“I’d love some coffee,” Keara said, thankful for the change of subject.

Shane followed his mother into the kitchen, leaving Keara and Declan alone.

Declan looked at her over the top of his reading glasses. She attempted a smile but his face remained serious. Then he asked quietly, “Did Shane ever tell you about Trista?”

Keara shook her head. “No.” Who was that?

“They were going to get married,” Declan continued. “It was about two years ago. She was a very nice girl. Very pretty. Smart.”

The bitseach who’d dumped him. “Oh yes. Maeve mentioned that Shane had been engaged.”

“That’s right. But she got a job offer in Los Angeles with a big law firm. She was a lawyer.”

Oh no. She could see where this was headed, and a sick dread filled her. “She left.”

“Yes.” Declan kept his voice low, no doubt so Shane didn’t hear him talking about him. “She wanted Shane to go with her. To LA.”

Her chest squeezed. “Why didn’t he?”

“It was just after I had my stroke. To be honest, I don’t remember a lot of what happened then. I was pretty out of it. But I know he had to make a tough choice. We didn’t try to influence him. He could have left with Trista, moved to LA, and we would have survived. We just wanted him to be happy. In the end, he made his choice to stay. But I know his heart was broken.”

Keara looked down at her hands in her lap, eyes stinging. Oh Shane. And now she was doing the same thing to him.

But she had to go back. She had to. She had to prove to herself she could still do it. If she couldn’t—who was she? She was nobody. Nothing. A washed-out shell with no direction, no control. No life.