Chasing River (Burying Water #3)(102)
River grins. “She’ll be happy to hear that.”
“Well, alright then.” With one last nod my way, sparking a wave of emotion that brings tears to my eyes, my dad disappears into the Dublin airport.
River wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling my back into his chest. I revel in his warmth. As much as I loved having my father here, it meant less time doing this with River. I’ve desperately missed it.
I don’t know how I’m going to leave him, but I know that I’ll have to at some point.
“So?” He rests his chin on top of my head. “What now?”
“Where did you say you found this place, again?” River’s amazed gaze drifts first over the stone cottage, and then to the bay beyond, a sea of crisp blue waters as far as my eyes stretch.
“Online. One of those private home rental places. It had really good ratings and we lucked out because they had a cancellation.” I haven’t stopped grinning since River turned his car into the gravel driveway. He knew we were going to the Cliffs of Moher—like we had planned—but this was a surprise. “Apparently it was rebuilt about twenty-five years ago, using the stones from the original cottage, which was abandoned during the Great Famine in the mid–eighteen hundreds. Have you heard of it?”
He grins, sliding the bags from my grip and planting a kiss on my lips. “Look at you, Miss Know-It-All.” I trail behind him as he limps past the thick border of brambly bushes and wildflowers and to a fuchsia door, the renter’s key dangling from his fingertips.
Inside, the Irish seaside charm only multiplies, the expansive, open living space filled with oak and pine furniture and plenty of kitschy antiques. A massive, double-sided fireplace stands like a pillar in the center of the cottage, opening up to both a cozy sitting area and rustic dining room. Even the dated pastel blue floral couches and the pink cushions—décor that would belong in my late grandparents’ homes—are something to be admired here. “This is perfect. Exactly what I wanted.”
A quiet, peaceful place for just River and me after so much turmoil.
Upstairs, we wander through four bedrooms, each with two single beds sitting side-by-side. “The sleeping arrangements are the only weird thing,” I murmur, dragging a nightstand out of the way, in a room that overlooks the Atlantic. That’s the view I want to wake up to with River every day for the next four days. “But I figured we could just reorganize things . . .” I lean forward to push one of the beds over.
And find myself sprawled out on top, thanks to a playful push from River.
He chases my laughs away with a deep, all-consuming kiss.
“I think I could live here,” I murmur absently, staring out over the purple-and-pink dusk sky and vast expanse of water from our grassy perch atop the cliffs, as we’ve done for the past four nights. River sits at my back, our bodies guarded against the crisp evening air by heavy wool blankets.
I feel him tense; I hear the hard swallow. Since that night when he begged me to stay in Ireland, before Delaney’s was attacked, the topic of me leaving has sat in the middle of every room like a giant white elephant. It’s our last night here. I don’t think we can avoid talking about it much longer.
Before we left for this cottage, I had to make a choice. I’d already cancelled my trip to England, but there was another flight looming: the one that was supposed to carry me from London to Madrid in a week’s time.
So I rearranged my ticket to fly me from Dublin to Spain’s capital. The plane leaves tomorrow night. I know it’s the right decision, I know that my father is right and I need to remove myself from this situation for a while to be sure I’m thinking clearly, but it pains me all the same.
River heard me on the phone with the airline, making the arrangements. He hid his disappointment behind a smile, but I saw it all the same.
I turn back to lay a soft kiss on his jawline. “So? What’s your plan?”
He inhales deeply. “Rowen should be out in another week or two. I’ll spend some time with him in Dundalk. Make sure Ma doesn’t drive him mad. Then, I don’t know. Perhaps take some classes.”
“Really?” When we talked about college last time, he didn’t sound at all interested in it. I’m glad to see that maybe he is.
A sheepish smile fills his handsome face. “When I went to talk to the college office about Rowen, I saw some flyers for part-time courses. Business and computers and whatnot. I figure that could be useful to me, for running the pub.”
“Learning how to use basic technology? You’re right, it could be.” I giggle with the memory of trying to teach River how to use Skype on his Samsung. My amusement earns me a few sharp but ticklish pokes to my ribs. “What else are you going to keep yourself busy with?” It’s going to be a while before he’s slinging pints and charming customers again.
He scoops my hair back into a ponytail, pushing it off to the side, giving his mouth access to my neck, which he happily takes. “Figured I’d work on the house. Strip that peeling wallpaper, give the walls a fresh coat of paint. Maybe by then we can start looking at rebuilding the pub. Da thinks the insurance should come through sooner rather than later, seeing as they found enough evidence to arrest and charge that bastard who tried to kill us.”
Just the suggestion in his words makes my stomach tighten. “Where do you think he’ll end up?”