Catch Me a Catch (10 page)

The house was
not an option, with her parents in the next room. And his boat was a dirty mess
after weeks at sea. He couldn’t make love to her there. She hadn’t understood;
had thought he didn’t want her. He got that. But fixing it wasn’t going to be
easy. He snagged his clothes from the chair and got dressed.

There was a
hell of a day ahead. He wanted to get into Galway and pick up the car, and then
drive to the nursing home. He’d come to Ireland to find out why his grandmother
had decided against offering him a home when his parents died. The need for the
answer consumed him.

Annie’s door
creaked open, followed by the staccato tapping of steps running down the
stairs. Last night had been a disaster, but today was a new day, with new
opportunities. He’d start with coffee, and take it from there.

****

Annie helped
herself to two slices of warm soda bread then passed the plate to Jack. Her body
buzzed with restless energy, and she could barely sit still. She buttered the
slices carefully, watching the butter soften and melt in the scant moments
before her mother sat down.

“I’ve some
news.” The room fell silent.

“My chocolates
have won the next stage. I made the finals!” The words tumbled into the void
then the room exploded with excited chatter. Congratulations from her mother
punctuated by a playful but hard thump on the arm by her father. “I have to get
my entry in by tomorrow night.”

“Divine?”

“Yes,
my pièce de résistance.”
Her heart expanded with happiness. She grinned.
“I’ll have to go back to the flat today and make them.”

“But darling,
the festival…” Maeve’s voice faltered mid-sentence. A myriad of emotions
flickered across her face in rapid succession. Pride her daughter had won her
dearest goal. Then worry, because her husband might regain his matchmaker role
before he was completely better. She could read her mother like a book.
Everyone could.

“I can stand
in for her, Maeve. I know what needs to be done,” Jack said.

“I thought you
were busy…” Hadn’t Jack said he had work to do this weekend? The presentation
he’d crossed the world to make was on Monday. Worry gnawed at Annie’s gut.

“I have the
time.” He took her hand in his and squeezed. She didn’t want him touching her.
Didn’t think she could take it, after the rejection of the night before. She
tried to discreetly ease her hand away but he gripped tighter. Unwilling to
make a scene, she capitulated and left it there. “You just concentrate on
winning the competition.”

He was the
most confusing person she’d ever met. Hot, then cold. Maybe it was for the best
if they kept things cool between them.

Maeve’s face
softened in relief.

“I can do it,”
Bull blustered. “It’s only for a few days and I’ve finished the antibiotics…”

“Why not split
it then?” Jack seemed to understand Bull’s need to be involved. It was his
vocation after all. “What time do you have to be at the pub, Annie?”

“Well, there’s
a ‘get to know you’ session this morning at the café, and I’ve organized all
the dates for that, so I wasn’t due to open up until five o’clock.”

Jack released
her hand to reach for his coffee. “I have to pick a car up in Galway. If you
drop me on the way to Dublin, I’ll make my own way back by five. I can finish
my work this evening and push my errand out till tomorrow.”

“I can do
tomorrow, then.” Bull happily filled his bread with a couple of rashers and bit
in hungrily. All Annie’s problems were dissolving one by one. Damn, this day
was just getting better and better.

“It’ll just be
the evening session anyway.” Annie smiled at her mother.

“Right, that’s
sorted,” Maeve agreed. “You’d better get yourself ready, Annie, if you’re
heading back. Have you everything you need?”

“I have all
the ingredients and my equipment ready to go back at the flat. I got totally
prepared just in case.” She swallowed the last fragment of sandwich and drained
her teacup. “Can you be ready in half an hour, Jack?”

“Make it
fifteen minutes. Thanks for the breakfast, Maeve.”

There was
something new in Jack’s eyes as he pulled his lanky frame from the table.
Something hot. It burned to her toes. He glanced away, breaking the spell.

“We better get
going.” Annie followed him upstairs, shamelessly taking advantage of the
opportunity to check out his rear view in his faded jeans. It was only when he
walked into his own room that the sensual fog began to clear.

Clothes and
shoes landed haphazardly into her overnight bag. Jack was talking on his mobile
next door; the deep rumble of his voice audible through the wall. She should be
concentrating on the Chocolate Oscar. The thought of winning had consumed her
for months. Instead, thoughts of Jack filled her head.

She couldn’t
believe how easily he’d diffused the situation downstairs, offering to stand in
for her at the festival, and she hadn’t even thanked him. She picked up her
hairbrush from the dressing table, and threw it in on top of the creased
collection of clothes. Time apart was probably a good idea.

****

“I have to
pick the car up from Murphy’s Car Hire in Galway. Do you know where it is?”
Jack asked. The miles were rapidly gobbled up as they sped down the motorway.

“Yes. That’s
one of the big ones. It’s in the city-center.”

“They say they
have branches all over.”

“Yes, they do.
When you’re finished with the car you’ll be able to drop it anywhere.”

She struggled
to sound sophisticated and casual. As if the prospect of his leaving meant
nothing. She scrunched up her true feelings, and stuffed them into the hole
pain was burning into the centre of her chest.

“Trying to get
rid of me?” he teased.

“No, but I
know you have things to do.” She gazed steadily ahead, veiling her turbulent
emotions. “Thanks for helping Dad out.”

“I’m in no
hurry to leave,” he answered lazily.

“Is your
mobile in your bag?”

She nodded,
and he reached for it. “I’m going to put my number in so you can call me.
You’ll want to know how things go while you’re away.”

He was right.
Despite her initial trepidation, she had built a good rapport with some of
their clients. She was itching to know how Noel’s date with Annabel had gone.

“Thanks.
You’ll need to give Dad a report tonight. Especially if he’s going to be back
on duty tomorrow…”

“Why are you
so nervous?” His voice was a low murmur in the quiet car.

“I’m not
nervous.” She shrugged, and glanced in the rear view mirror. “I don’t know what
gave you that idea. Dad will be grateful of your presence tonight anyway. He’s
always hoping for a bit of male companionship on Saturdays.”

“You’d better
explain that,” he replied dryly. “Your father doesn’t seem the type.”

“Jack!” Her
dimples flashed as she glanced his direction, shaking her head at his expression.
“You’re an evil man. And him a matchmaker.”

“Well, what
did you mean when you said your father’s hoping for male company?”

“Saturday
night,” she paused for effect, “is LADIES night. During the festival, Mum can’t
get out to the pub with the girls, because it’s the last place a decent,
married woman should be. Instead, the ladies come to our house.”

“You’re
leaving me alone with all these ladies?”

“Not one of
them is your type.” She was confident of that. The average age of the women who
frequented ladies night was sixty-five.

“I’m
completely confident leaving you in their company. You’ll be eating in the
sitting room with Dad, while they take over the kitchen. That’s the way it normally
goes. Men one place, women another. If I was there I’d be in the kitchen with
them, but there’s matters discussed during ladies night,” she dropped her voice
to a whisper, “that shouldn’t reach the ears of ANY man.”

“Sounds
terrifying.”

“Believe me,
it is. I’m just sorry I won’t be there to see it.”

“See what?”

“The first
time the ladies get an up close and personal look at ‘my boyfriend’.” She shook
her head. “On second thoughts I’m SO glad I get to avoid that. By the time they
meet again the festival will be old news, and…”
So will we.
The end of
the sentence sounded like a death knell in her mind.

“We’ll be
spending some quality time getting to know each other,” he finished.

****

The words shot
straight from heart to mouth, bypassing brain altogether. He’d meant to ease
into it, not potentially startle her into causing a traffic accident.

“What?” She
stared at the road ahead. They passed a ‘Galway city center’ signpost on the
left.

“I was hoping
you might show me around Dublin. After the festival is over, of course.”

The scent of
Annie teased his nostrils. A subtle mix of warm woman tinged with citrus. Her
warm body was near, if he edged closer a fraction their bodies would be
touching. It was intoxicating. Electricity arced between them.

“You made your
feelings clear last night, Jack. I don’t think spending time together in Dublin
is a good idea.”

“There’s the
car rental place.”

Annie pulled
into a shopping center parking lot and turned off the engine.

He had to say
it right. Screwing up again wasn’t an option. “You thought I rejected you last
night. You were wrong.” She stared out of the window, effectively blocking him
out. He dragged in a ragged breath and blundered on. “I wanted you last night. Couldn’t
sleep for wanting you.” He grasped the hands she twisted in her lap. “I’m not a
kid anymore. I wanted more than a stolen moment on a blanket. I wanted…damn it,
want
, more. I want you in my bed. Without the fear of interruption from
your mother. That’s why I turned away from you last night, not because I wanted
to, but because I wanted
more
.”

She sat
silently. Her usually expressive face shuttered, revealing nothing of her inner
thoughts. Desperation threatened to overwhelm him. Was he too late?

He’d never put
his feelings out there before. Turning her down had almost killed him. She’d
unveiled her attraction last night when she glided close to kiss him. His mind
filled with an image of her in his apartment, lying across his big brass bed,
hair fanned out around her on the pillow.

She cleared
her throat. “I don’t know.” Doubts swirled in her chocolate eyes.

“If you’re not
interested, I’ll leave you alone.” Being needy was something new. His cards
were right out there on the table. A tight band crushed his chest as he steeled
for the moment when she’d dash them to the floor.

“I am
interested. That’s the problem.” Her mouth curved in a tremulous smile and warm
fingers curled around his. “I just don’t see where this is going.”

His fears
dissolved in a hot torrent of relief. “I have no idea either. This is new for
me too.” He kissed the compelling temptation of her soft pink mouth. “We are,
however, straight on one thing, we both want to find out.”

Her lips
melted under his and parted cautiously. Soft hands crept up his chest and
tangled in his hair. The kiss blazed like a forest fire, totally out of
control. Before it completely overwhelmed him, he edged away, breathing
heavily.

“I’ll come up
to Dublin tomorrow. Keep your evening open, I’m taking you to dinner.”

“And dessert
afterward?” She grinned, her elusive dimple making a rare appearance.

“Double
helpings.” He held up his hand as if swearing he was telling the truth before a
judge, and nodded solemnly. Her laughter sparked his answering chuckle. “I’ll
walk down from here.” He climbed out of the car with her to pull his duffel bag
out of the back. His hands stroked urgent caresses up and down her arms, unable
to resist, loving the feel of her soft skin against his palms.

“See you
tomorrow.”

“I’ll be
ready.” She climbed back into the car and reversed out of the parking spot. Her
eyes met his for a brief moment in the rear view mirror, and then she gunned
the engine, and vanished into the mid-morning traffic.

Chapter Seven

A potent aroma
assailed his nostrils as he eased the glass door of the car rental shop open.
New car smell, blended with the scent of polish. A receptionist perched behind
a large gleaming pine desk. Her eyes flickered over his battered deck shoes and
faded clothing as he strode toward her. Her mouth quivered in distaste. “Can I
help you?”

He guessed
what she was thinking, that in order to have a million dollars, you must look a
million dollars. Normally, such a blinkered view irritated. He knew the truth.
Those who look a million dollars were usually struggling behind the scenes to
scrape together enough cash to cover their rent. Today, her barely concealed
expression of horror at having an unshaven sailor in her pristine showroom made
no dent at all on his mood. Insulated from irritation as he was by the warm
glow of his last conversation with his favorite chocolatier.

“I believe you
have a car ready for me,” he explained calmly. “Jack Miller?”

Her jaw
dropped so comically he had to bite on the inside of his lip to stop from smiling.
“Jack Miller?” She blinked.

“That’s me.”
He fished in the back pocket of his faded jeans for his driving license. A
graphite grey Aston Martin DBS V12 sat in splendid isolation at the front of
the showroom. “Is that it?”

“I’ll call Mr.
Murphy.”

She swiveled
on Cuban heels and disappeared. Jack strolled over to the two-door coupe,
running a loving hand over the car’s curves.
Just like mine, even the same
color, Casino Ice
.

A door
creaked, and then a balding middle-aged man appeared, hand outstretched. “Mr.
Miller. We were expecting you.”