Irish Charm: Flying into Love #3 by C F White

Author:C F White [White, C F]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-11-27T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter thirteen

Bootcamp

Declan could not stop smiling.

His jaw ached. His chest hurt from his thumping pulse. And his body thrummed with unaccustomed excitement. It was dangerous. He knew it. Always so methodical, he’d never allowed himself to feel much of anything for anyone. Not since Fletcher. Not since he’d had to watch what he’d thought was the love of his life boarding a flight and leaving him behind. He’d vowed then to never get attached to one man. He always had several on the go. He always had a fall-back.

Except now, as he drove Kane around the sweeping valleys of Glengesh Pass and back toward home, he felt as if he were on a more dangerous route than Sliabh Liag. That most unique road in Ireland stretched out before him like a metaphor for his state of mind—dangerous, rocky, with twists and turns edging him off the safer paths he’d been roaming all his life. He'd spent so long protecting himself. Numbed to any possibility of love, he thought he were immune. But having seen the lengths Kane was going to recapture something he’d once had, Declan’s eyes were opening to the possibility that love might not be all wrenching heartache and giving in. It might be something to chase. To follow. To want.

But Kane wasn’t available. Not for him. Not for any long-term commitment. And whilst that usually would have been a box to tick in Declan’s yes column, he found himself creating new rules. Ones that might mean he was after something more than a quick fling. That he wanted something more than casual. He wanted to feel exactly the way Cian must have when Kane had looked at him. The way Kane had been gazing at the landscape all day—as though it were the most beautiful thing in the world.

What the fuck is happening to me?

They arrived back at McCafferty’s late. Darkness edged in, leaving the windows to filter out the hazy light from inside the bar. As he parked in the garage and locked the shutters, loud music spilled from inside. It was live band night. By far the busiest night of the week, and he probably shouldn’t have left it so late to get back. He trusted Ciara could hold the fort with Paddy and the part-time staff. But The Joyces were playing, and it was always rowdy when he had them in. Their traditional Irish folk had the locals and the tourists glugging back Guinness and whisky by the bucket load, the singing so loud it did, indeed, disturb the neighbours. Even the Dohertys over the hill could hear it.

On entering, it was as he’d suspected. Rammed. Loud. Two men-deep at the bar with Ciara, Shane and Brianna holding the fort and Paddy clearing down the kitchen after last food orders had been called. It was in hand, but it was an event. And Declan couldn’t wait to show Kane the real Irish pub feel. The McCafferty’s way.

He manoeuvred them through the throng, patrons who knew him shaking his hand or slapping him on the back and chatting the usual shite in his ear.

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