Irish Sex Fairy

Chapter Five

Shane strolled into The Irish Sex Fairy. To his surprise, Keara stood behind the counter ringing up a purchase. Huh. Maeve had her working.

Still pale and thin, dressed in skinny black jeans and a floaty yellow top, her golden red hair swung around her shoulders. The shadows in her eyes seemed to have diminished but smudges below the eyes said she still hadn’t been sleeping well.

Something tugged at his conscience with a twinge. She looked like she’d been through hell.

She lifted her head and saw him walking in, and a faint frown flickered across her face. What? Had he pissed her off that much by scaring the bejesus out of her in the middle of the night?

“Hello,” she said. “What can I do for you today?”

He opened his mouth to say “nothing”, and then closed it. Did he want to tell her he was there checking up not only on Maeve, but her? Somehow, no, he didn’t. So he grabbed a box of condoms and slapped them on the counter. “I’ll take these.”

Her pretty mouth pinched and she rang up the purchase without a word, slipping the box into the red plastic bag.

“Shane!” Maeve had finished with her customers and spotted him, and zipped across the store. “How are you? How was your date last weekend?”

“Must’ve been good,” Keara muttered handing him the bag of condoms. His cheeks heated but he smiled at Maeve.

“It was fine,” he said. “Great.”

“That’s so good! You need more fun in your life. You must bring your new girlfriend around to meet me sometime.”

Shane didn’t want to tell her that he wasn’t going to be seeing Laila again. Gorgeous girl, and she’d been as horny as he had last weekend, making for a great night of hot, no-strings sex, but she hadn’t really sparked his interest on any other level. But how else to explain the jumbo box of condoms he now held in his hands? He tried to hold them unobtrusively at his side.

“Sometime,” he prevaricated. “How are things here? Need anything moved? Nails hammered? Screws tightened?”

Maeve swatted his shoulder with a trill of laughter. “Don’t be silly, a rún. I can hammer a nail and I can screw…well, let’s not go there.”

“Let’s not,” he agreed with a return smile.

“There are some boxes in the back I wouldn’t mind moved,” she told him, biting her bottom lip. “If you have a minute. I just want to store them on a higher shelf.”

“Sure. I’ll do it right now.” He glanced at Keara as he followed Maeve, felt her eyes on him as they walked through the Staff Only door. He strode into a storeroom where Maeve kept extra stock and supplies.

“These two boxes.” She indicated a couple of large cartons on the floor. “They’ve been sitting there for weeks just getting in the way. I’d like them up on that top shelf.”

He eyed the shelf. “Gonna be hard to get them down. What’s in them? Stuff you won’t need any time soon?”

Keara’s face appeared in the door. “Maeve? A customer is asking for you.”

“Oh. All right. I’ll be right back.” She fluttered out of the room, leaving Keara and Shane alone.

“Know what’s in those boxes?” Shane asked, waving a hand.

“Um…no. But let’s look.”

She went to unfold the flaps but realized that packing tape sealed the boxes. “These look like they’ve never been opened.” She frowned. A packing slip inside a plastic pouch was taped to the top of one, and she ripped it off and opened it. Unfolding the papers, she nibbled her bottom lip.

“What is it?” Shane asked, watching her. The lip-nibbling thing was extremely sexy. His body responded.

A frown edged Keara’s brows. “I think this is the…uh…stuff she was looking for the other day. She said it hadn’t arrived.” She scanned the paper and her brows rose. “February. This was shipped in February. This is the shipment.” She lifted her eyes from the page to meet his. “I don’t get it.”

“Get what?” His own gut tightened a little.

“Maeve was all upset because this shipment was missing. She’s been calling the supplier and they said it was shipped. So she got me to call the delivery company and they insisted she signed for it. They’re sending me copies of the delivery slip, but…” She blinked. “This is it. It must have been sitting here for the last month.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” She licked her lips then made a face. “I uh…well, she’ll be happy that we found it.”

Shane cursed inside. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, only one more reason why he checked in on Maeve from time to time. He drew in a breath. “I’m sure she will.”

Keara tipped her head and looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You don’t seem surprised by this.”

He paused while he debated what to say to Keara.

But Maeve reappeared in the door. “Oh. You haven’t moved them yet.” She divided a look between the two of them and smiled. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No.” Shane smiled back at her. “But Maeve, let’s look in these boxes before we move them up on that shelf.”

He cut the box open and Keara helped Maeve open it and pull items out. When Maeve saw what was in it, her face drew into confused lines. Keara held out the packing slip. “Is this the missing order?” she asked quietly.

Maeve took it and glanced it over. “Yes. Yes it is.” She frowned. “But…when did this arrive? I’ve been waiting for this for over a month.”

Shane met Keara’s eyes and he read the concern there. “Well, good thing I didn’t put it away,” he said easily, stepping forward. “I’ll take these out front and you can unpack them.”

“Thank you, Shane.”

He hated the look of uncertain confusion on Maeve’s face as he hefted the box and strode out with it. Damn, he hated it. He was going to have to talk to Keara.

Keara trailed along behind Shane, the muscles in his arms bulging beneath the short sleeves of his navy T-shirt as he carried the heavy box out to the store. Despite her confusion and concern, her gaze drifted down his muscled back to his tight butt in faded jeans.

She tucked her top lip under her teeth, and forced her eyes not to stare at his buff body. Maeve. She was worried about Maeve.

He lowered the box to the floor, glanced at her then went back for the other one. “Let me help,” Keara murmured to Maeve. “I think I know where these things go now.”

She unpacked the cock rings and erection aids and Maeve went to look after another customer. Shane returned with the second box and without saying a word, opened it and started helping.

She flicked a glance at him. “You don’t need to help,” she said.

He scowled. “I’m helping. And when we’re done you and I are going across the street to the Shamrock for coffee.”

She blinked at him, hands pausing in the box. “We are?”

“We are.” His straight mouth and lowered brows disinclined her to argue with him, so she said nothing and they worked together to place the stock on the shelves.

“Over here,” she indicated at one point, and he moved the items to the other end of the shelf. When they were done, he closed the boxes up with fast, sure movements. She watched his hands, long fingers dusted with dark hair, strong wrists and sinewy forearms. Sexy.

“I’ll take these out back for recycling,” he said. “Wait here.”

Keara’s tummy flipped and she moved beside Maeve at the counter. “Um…Shane and I are going out for coffee. Is that okay?”

Maeve’s head whipped around and she gaped at Keara. Then, with a glance at the customer across the counter from her, she smiled brilliantly. “Of course it’s okay! You two go on, I’m fine here.”

Keara smiled, but groaned inwardly. What was Maeve thinking in that foxy head of hers?

Shane returned and unsmilingly jerked his head toward the door.

“I’m coming,” she muttered. If Maeve thought they were becoming friends again, she was so wrong.

The Shamrock Cafe was across the street from the Irish Sex Fairy Shop. They paused at the curb to let a few cars pass, then dashed across the four lanes in a break in the traffic.

“You just jaywalked,” Keara pointed out. “An officer of the law just committed a crime.”

He slanted her a grin, blue eyes sparkling. “Arrest me.”

She tried to repress her own smile unsuccessfully. He held the door to the restaurant open for her and she preceded him in.

They sat at a small table in the window, the bright sun stippling the black tabletop with light and shadow through the Irish lace curtains.

“Just coffee,” Shane said to the waitress and Keara nodded her agreement.

Shane was staring at her, studying her.

“Why are we here?” she asked, shifting in her chair.

“To talk about your aunt.”

She nodded. “I’m concerned about her.”

“So am I.”

She did not want to hear that. “This isn’t the first thing she’s forgotten.” She told him about the other incidents. The waitress appeared and set their cups of coffee in front of them. They both drank it black.

“I’ve noticed it, too,” he said quietly. “It seems to be happening more and more often.”

“Everyone has lapses.”

“True. Hell, just yesterday I went all the way from my office to the supply room, and couldn’t remember why. For a few minutes. The other day I couldn’t find my insurance renewal form. I’d set it aside to pay at the end of the week, but couldn’t for the life of me remember where. It happens to everyone.” Then he scowled. “You know, you’re the only family she has.”

“She has family in Ireland.”

He snorted. “That’s not much help to her. But then…neither are you.”

“What do you mean?” She stared at him across the table, hurt slicing through her. Her cheeks grew hot.

“Just what I said. You may live closer than Ireland, but you never visit her. You haven’t been here in years. She talks about you all the time, you know…how proud she is of you, and how you were promoted to manager, how beautiful you are, and the ‘sex in the city’ life you lead in Los Angeles.”

Keara choked on her sip of coffee. “Sex in the city?”

“That’s what she calls it. I gather you do nothing but shop and party with your friends and have sex with men named Mr. Big.”

Despite the seriousness of their conversation, she laughed. “Mr. Big? I wish!”

Then her smile faded. “I guess my life is kind of like that, but…” She shook her head. “It’s not a TV show. I work hard. I love my career. And my friends are important to me, but we do more than just shop and party.”

“Really.” His skepticism heated her cheeks even more. “What else do you do?”

“Well I…go to yoga class.” That didn’t sound much better. “The bank supports a number of charities and I’ve been involved with Wishes for Kids.”

“Through your work.”

“Yes. But…”

“Never mind.” He slashed a hand through the hair. “We didn’t come here to talk about your wonderful life. We need to…”

“Just a minute!” She leaned forward. “Just a goddamn minute! Who are you to sneer at my life? Even if all I do is shop and party and have sex…what business is it of yours, and who are you to judge me? The man who goes through a box of condoms a week!”

He opened his mouth, but she kept going. “And my life is not so wonderful right now, in case you didn’t notice.” She closed her eyes against a sharp slice of fear inside her. “Don’t tell me my life is wonderful. You have no idea.”

He sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his wide chest.

“Was it that bad?”

She sat back, nonplussed at the change of tone of his voice, from cold steel to warm compassion. She cupped her hands around the coffee mug.

“You mean the robbery?”

“Yeah.”

She studied him while she thought about what to say to that question. Her friends thought she was losing it. She didn’t even want them to know how freaked out she was by it, how kooky she’d become. She wished she hadn’t burst out like that. “It’s fine,” she finally said. “Never mind my screwed-up life. We need to talk about Maeve. What do you think I should do?”

His thick dark brows drew down over blue, blue eyes. The corners of his mouth dipped. “Hell if I know.” He thrust a hand through his short hair. “I’ll talk to my mom. She and Maeve are best friends. They play bridge together every week. Maybe she’s noticed too. Maybe she has an idea.”

Keara nodded. “I guess I could ask Maeve about it. But I don’t know…”

“Yeah. You could. She might be worried about it herself. Maybe she’s already talked to her doctor about it.”

“Maybe.” But Keara didn’t think so, judging from Maeve’s confused reaction the few times she’d been confronted with her forgetfulness. “I’ll see if I can work it into conversation.”

“You need to keep an eye on her,” Shane said. “If she forgets something like leaving the stove on, it could be dangerous.”

“Oh lord.” Keara bit down on her lip. She looked down into the half-drunk cup of black coffee. “Do you think…she has Alzheimer’s?” She almost choked on the word.

She’d heard the sharp edge of pain in Gary’s voice as he’d said, “She doesn’t even know who I am anymore.” The look on his face. The agony in his eyes that had driven him to…oh dear God. She struggled to get air into her lungs and tears stung the corners of her eyes.

“Keara?”

Her lungs had tightened and she started to feel that whirl of dizziness. No. No. This could not be happening now.

“Keara, are you okay?”

She tried to focus on Shane’s face across the table from her, like looking at him through a wavery glass wall. She pressed her fingertips to her face. “I’m fine,” she choked out.

Shane snorted and the next thing she knew he’d come around to her side of the table and slid into the booth beside her. “Breathe,” he commanded, his voice like smooth whiskey. His arm circled her shoulders and the heat of his body seeped into her, the scent of him—warm, spicy, male—invaded her nostrils and distracted her from her panic. She swallowed, sucked in air. “Yeah. That’s it. Breathe again.”

When mortification replaced anxiety she knew she was doing better. Her cheeks heated to scorching point and she scrubbed her hands over her wet face. “Shit,” she muttered.

“Yeah,” Shane agreed. “Shit.”

His hand rubbed up and down her back and much as she wanted to shrug him away and tell him to get the hell back on the other side of the table, her body responded to his firm but gentle touch. Finally she lifted her head and met his eyes.

“Okay?” he asked in that whiskey-smooth voice.

She gave a jerky nod. He didn’t move back to his seat.

“What triggered that?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Okay. So. We were talking about Maeve.” He kept his gaze fastened on her. “You’re worried she might have Alzheimer’s.”

She swallowed. “Do you think…?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can she run a business if she can’t remember things? What if she forgets to pay her bills? Order stock?”

Shane’s eyes shadowed. “I know. That’s what I’m worried about. I can’t be here all the time. Lord knows I have my own family to worry about.”

She studied him. “What do you mean? Are your parents not okay, Shane?”

She’d met them a few times that summer. Shane’s parents were so much fun—they made every dinner a party, every get-together full of food and drink, music and talk, laughter and love.

His mouth firmed. “Da had a stroke a couple of years ago.”

“Oh no. I’m so sorry…is he okay?”

“He’s alive.” Shane shrugged. “Actually he’s doing very well. But it’s been a long rehab. It’s been pretty hard on both of them.”

“I’m sure it has.” Her heart squeezed. “I didn’t know about that.”

“Why would you? Anyway, now you’ve finally deigned to visit…”

Anger flared inside her and she straightened her spine. “Deigned? Jesus Christ, you really think you’re just perfect, don’t you? I’m sorry I can’t live up to your high standards of perfection, but I have a life and…”

“Shut up.”

She gaped at him.

To her utter shock, he laughed. Laughed! “I shouldn’t have said that but I’d rather see you mad than defeated.”

“What!”

“I know you’re busy. I was about to say, you being here now is good, you can keep an eye on her and see how bad things are.”

“But—” She stopped. She wanted to scream. He could not just push her buttons with those self-righteous, judgmental little comments, and then not let her defend herself. Aaaaargh! She drew in a long, slow breath. “I’ll keep an eye on her. Excuse me.” She lifted her chin in a request for him to move so she could stand and he did. “I’d offer to pay for coffee but I left without my purse.”

“It’s fine. I got it.” He shoved his hand into his front pocket. The gesture was so masculine and sexy it made her stomach flutter. He pulled out a few bills and tossed them on the table. “Let’s go.”

He left her at the door of the shop with a scowl and a muttered “See ya later”. Keara pushed into the store, still seething.

Deep breath, she reminded herself. Luckily Maeve was talking to a customer and she had a few minutes to stand behind the counter, breathing, forcing herself to be rational. This was one of the things Dr. Cogan had mentioned—being irritable, getting angry over little things. Dammit. Even though she knew about it, she just couldn’t seem to help it. And Shane seemed to know just how to push her buttons.

He probably wasn’t doing it on purpose. She repeated that thought over and over. It was just her, overreacting. Guilty conscience, shredded nerves, paranoia…that was her lately. She inhaled another long pull of air, forced a smile as Maeve and the customer approached the counter.

After the customer had left, Maeve turned to Keara, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “So…how was your coffee with Shane?”

Oh lord. Keara swallowed her sigh. “He’s very annoying,” she muttered.

Maeve lifted a brow. “Hmmm.”

“Hmm what?” Annoyance at Maeve’s tone snapped inside her and she fought to push it down.

“There are sparks between you two,” Maeve observed.

“Ha! Sparks! Yeah, right.”

Maeve’s mouth curved into a wicked smile. “Definitely sparks.”

Thankfully another customer entered the store and they weren’t able to continue that ridiculous conversation.

The man who walked in glanced at them, then quickly away. The hood of his black sweatshirt covered his head and he kept his chin tucked inside the neckline. The sight reminded her of gang members, and a shiver ran through her. Then she rolled her eyes at her own paranoid fear. Someone coming into a sex shop who didn’t want to be recognized was nothing out of the ordinary.

Maeve approached him to ask if he needed any help, but he shook his head and, without meeting her eyes, turned away to inspect the shelves of books.

Maeve winked at Keara when she returned to the counter, now standing in front of it. “We’ll just let him look,” she whispered. “He seems embarrassed.” In a louder tone, she said, “I’ll be in my office for a few minutes if you can handle things here.”

“Sure.”

Keara kept an eye on the kid, who looked to be only about twenty years old, while she did some tidying behind the counter. He appeared to watch Maeve leave through the Staff Only door, then moved from one display to another in the store, keeping his face averted from Keara. Then without a purchase or even another word, he left the store.

Amused, she wondered what he’d been looking for and then lost his nerve.

More customers came in after him and she was grateful for the distraction that took her mind off both Shane and his annoyingly hostile attitude toward her, and disturbing thoughts about Maeve’s memory.

“I need a vibrator.”

Keara turned to the woman at the counter. “Of course. They’re right over here.”

“It has to be quiet,” the woman added, following Keara. “Very quiet. I have three teenage sons. They cannot hear it.”

Oookay. Keara had no idea which vibrator was the quietest and they spent an interesting ten minutes testing each one to find out. The woman finally made her selection, then left.

Maeve returned to help with a little rush of business and then they closed the shop for the day. “Tuesday night is my bridge night,” Maeve told her. “Would you like to come? Tonight is at Fiona’s home.”

Shane’s mom.

“Uh, no. That’s okay. I don’t play bridge.”

“You could just come for the company.” Maeve eyed her.

“I’ll be fine here,” Keara said with a smile. “You go and have fun.”

“Well. If you’re sure…”

“I’m fine, Maeve.” Unfortunately, Maeve now seemed protective and worried about her. Just like her friends. “Really.”

So after a quick dinner, Maeve disappeared with a wave, leaving Keara alone in the apartment. It was the first time she’d been alone—meaning the entire building was empty, not just alone in the apartment with Maeve downstairs—and Keara was acutely aware of it. Knowing there was an alarm system protecting the shop helped. She locked the door at the top of the stairs behind Maeve and turned to the small living room.

She’d lived alone for many years and it had never bothered her.

The television provided welcome background noise and she flicked through the channels until she found an episode of Sex and the City. With a smile, she recalled Shane’s comment about her life in LA. She shook her head. Maeve may think her niece was living a sexually liberated single-girl lifestyle like that, but that was wishful thinking on her part.

Maeve. She sighed, her attention diverted from the show she’d seen before by worry about Maeve. Lots of older people had problems with memory. Was it considered a natural part of aging?

Keara’s parents had died the year she’d graduated from college, in a car crash on the freeway. She still missed them, although the pain of their tragic death had faded, but at this moment she longed for another family member to share this burden with. Her friends were great, but they couldn’t help her with this. Alone, responsibility for Maeve weighed heavily on her. Even someone to talk to, to ask questions of, would help.

Maeve had always been there for her, in the background, and although Keara hadn’t seen her much, they talked on the telephone occasionally, emailed and sent cards. Now Keara was going through a personal crisis, she’d turned to Maeve, only to find that Maeve had problems of her own.

Maybe. She still didn’t know how serious it was. But if Shane was worried too, enough to talk to her about it, it was more than just a vague uneasiness at a couple of forgotten conversations. And Keara had no idea what to do about it.

She hadn’t anticipated something like this when she’d decided to come stay with Maeve. Selfishly, she’d only been thinking about herself and her own problems and trying to get better, hoping that staying with someone would ease her twitchy nerves, and instead she just had one more burden, one more thing to worry about and…dammit, one more thing to feel guilty about.