hands on the wheel. She wondered if he’d always done that, or if an event in his past had made him more careful.
She touched him first, needing something from him, a temporary oblivion; perhaps that was what made her put a hand on his thigh. He might have asked her if she was sure, stopping the car along a deserted road. She didn’t remember if she replied or if she just let her lips meet his in answer. At first she was aware of the boxes of fragile vessels around them, the vases and bowls and plates he’d made, the few that remained unsold that day, the gannets shrieking in triumph as they dove for fish in the sea below, the wind buffeting the car, another change coming. Fair weather could only last so long. But at that moment, there was only him, with his breath on her cheek, his hand on her breast, his brown, brown eyes. Him.
Chapter 15
Held So Close
Kate kissed Sullivan again, unable to pull away, neither of them willing to say good night. His lips were perfect, neither too full nor too thin, softer than she’d expected. A light mist fell from a band of clouds overhead, stopping and starting, dripping from the blackthorn trees in a rhythmic patter. Kate didn’t mind the cold or the wet. She didn’t feel anything but Sullivan’s arms around her. The shower would pass within moments—there, it already had, the clouds moving off to rain in another place—the memory of the squall contained in the puddles that reflected shadows and stars, Kate and Sullivan too, standing there in the lane below Bernie’s cottage.
“I’ll be away for a day or so, selling, upcoast, but there’s a craic on Friday,” he said, still holding her close as they lingered by the van, which he’d parked just outside Bernie’s gate, the bicycle resting against the wall. “You’ll be there, won’t you? Say yes.”
“Well—”
“There will be dancing.” He rocked her gently, side to side. “A girl like you must love to dance.”
“A girl like me?”
“With such fine, strong legs.”
“Now who’s being fresh?”
“We’re past that now, aren’t we?”
Yes, she supposed they were. She’d only been with him a few hours, and yet it seemed longer in the best way. It must have been past midnight by then. A crescent of moon shone down on them, ribbons of cloud trailing across the sky, and the breeze stirring the trees and carrying the scent of primrose and lily of the valley.
“Come home with me,” he said.
“I can’t,” she replied, though she wanted to. “Not tonight.” She took a step toward the house, as she knew she must, because Bernie was waiting, because a part of her sensed that this was too much too soon, that she needed to slow things down. They had days ahead of them, didn’t they? Days and days to get to know one another better. She wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. She liked Glenmara. She could stay for a while, learn about the lace, about him.
“Please.” He held onto her hand.
“I have to go.” She laughed. The light was on in Bernie’s front room. Her hostess was still awake.
He gave her hand a squeeze before releasing her at last. “Friday, then. Don’t forget.”
When Kate opened the door, Fergus woofed a greeting as she hung her coat on the peg in the hall and went into the sitting room. Bernie looked up from her chair by the fire, reading glasses perched on the end of her nose, a book open on her lap. The turf glowed in the hearth, burning low.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Kate said. “I should have called. I didn’t mean to keep you up—”
“Not at all,” Bernie said. “I’m glad you were having fun. With Sullivan, were you?”
“I don’t know where the time went.”
“It passes quickly, doesn’t it, when you’re with the right person.” Bernie gestured to a teapot on the side table. “I was getting ready to have a bit of warm almond milk. Helps me sleep better. Would you like some?”
Kate took the cup Bernie offered. She tucked her hair behind her ears and blew on the milk to cool it, realizing, with a twinge of embarrassment, that she had a smudge of clay from the van on her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, hoping Bernie hadn’t noticed. “He asked me if I was going to the craic Friday night,” she said.
“Oh, yes, you must. We’ll all be there for the music and dancing. Sullivan is part of