Ride the Tide (Deep Six #3) - Julie Ann Walker Page 0,77

answers. Why we have certain customs. Why we use certain words. Why we celebrate certain holidays. History is the beginning and the end of everything. It’s the alpha and the omega.”

“It’s your religion.”

She thought about that. “It is the thing I put faith in.” Tilting her head, she studied all the different striations of blue in his irises. “What would you say is your religion?”

He snorted. “I was raised Irish Catholic. Most people don’t expect that. They think I should have red hair and freckles. But I assure you, my great-grandparents on both sides came from the land of shamrocks and shillelaghs.” She wondered if he realized that his accent thickened anytime he spoke of his origins or upbringing.

“Black Irish.” She nodded. “A lot of people believe the darker complexions in Ireland stem from the Spanish Armada that landed there in the 1500s. But most historians agree there were dark-skinned, dark-haired people on the Emerald Isle long before that. The Celts started arriving as far back as 500 BC, and they’re known to be darker people.” She swallowed when a small grin pulled at his lips. “And there I go with the useless trivia, huh? It’s okay if you want to let your eyes glaze over now.”

“Nah.” He shook his head. “Like I said, I like hearing you talk.”

He could say that a million times over and she’d never get tired of hearing it.

She desperately wanted to reach up and trace the shape of his lips, feel his hot breath puff against her skin. Run her fingers over the subtle lines radiating from the corners of his eyes, because each of them was a testament to the life he’d lived. The hard-fought battles he’d won.

Was there a face on the entire planet more fascinating than Mason McCarthy’s? If so, she’d yet to see it.

Instead, she asked softly, “You said you were raised Irish Catholic. Does that mean you’re lapsed?”

One of his shoulders twitched. It wasn’t really a shrug. More a gesture of vacillation. “After all the fucked-up stuff I seen in this wide world, it’s hard to believe in a benevolent God who loves us and cherishes us.”

It was a tender subject. She could see that. And since she didn’t want this marvelous day to end, she quickly picked a new topic. “So why the navy?”

His lips twisted. “Kids who grew up where I did had one of two choices. Join the trades or the military.” He was quiet for a moment before adding, “I wanted to see the world.”

Once again, she thought she saw something strange move behind his eyes. Only this time, it looked suspiciously like regret.

“You wish you’d chosen differently?”

“Sometimes.” He shrugged. “All the years of running and gunning changed me. I’m not the same person I was when I left Boston.”

This time, she wasn’t able to stop her fingers from pushing a lock of hair away from his eye. He instantly stilled, his gaze so sharp she quickly dropped her hand and curled it into a fist.

Stupid, stupid Alex!

He opened his mouth, and she was sure he was going to say it was time to leave. Sure she’d ruined everything by touching him. So when he said, “I wanna accept your offer,” her mouth fell open.

Quite a feat considering she was still flat on her back. She wasn’t sure how the physics behind that worked.

For a few seconds—or hours? Time no longer held meaning—she turned his words over in her head. They couldn’t mean what she thought they meant. Could they?

Nah.

And yet…

Slowly, she pushed into a seated position. “Just to be clear”—her voice was a harsh rasp—“are you talking about the offer of my virginity?”

“Ya-huh.”

Ya-huh. Strange how two tiny syllables spoken in a New England accent could make her heart feel so airy and light she thought it was a miracle it didn’t float away on the breeze.

“But there are conditions,” he added. “Everything I told you is true. We like each other. We respect each other. Heaven knows we want each other. It’d be too easy for one of us to let our feelings grow into something more.”

Too late.

“Haven’t changed my mind, Alex. I don’t wanna fall in love again.” His eyes implored her to hear what he was saying. “I can’t be someone’s everything. I’d just disappoint ’em. And I’d disappoint myself.”

She tried to listen with an open mind. But she couldn’t shake the thought that if people could choose how and when they fell in love, or who they fell in love with,