Wild Irish Dreamer (The Mystic Cove Series Book 8) Read online

  “Two bedrooms and two bathrooms? That’s unheard of around here,” Fi said, following her father up the staircase.

  “I had extra bathrooms put in years ago. I used to holiday-let these and I realized that many couples traveling together wanted their own bathrooms. They aren’t glamorous, but they are serviceable.”

  “You don’t need much in a bathroom, really.” Cait shrugged.

  “This is the top floor, which I thought you might like for your own. The layout is different than downstairs. Have a look,” Shane said, unlocking the door and pushing it open. He waited for Fi to step through.

  “Oh,” Fi said, holding her hand to her heart.

  Sunlight washed the sitting room from the large windows at the front, making the buttercream-colored walls warm and inviting. A wide window seat, made for dreamers, was littered with blue and white cushions, and a white afghan was folded neatly in the corner. Fi wanted to curl up there, looking out over the water, and dream the day away – reading all her favorite books and drinking tea while watching the world go by below.

  In lieu of a sofa, two oversized armchairs in a soft cream color flanked a circular wooden table. Footstools in cheerful azure patterns were pulled close to the chairs, and a tall floor lamp stood in the corner. Turning, Fi saw that the room extended into an open kitchen area, something unusual for buildings of this age.

  “I opened the kitchen as well, thinking whoever cooked here might like to look out to the water,” Shane said, walking back to the counter that doubled as a breakfast bar. Past it, a narrow hallway led to what Fi discovered were two neat bedrooms, each with its own window and a double bed, and two small bathrooms. Nothing ostentatious, nothing too fussy, and just perfect for her. He’d chosen well, Fi mused, as she walked silently around the space, somehow knowing that the living space was more important to the apartment than the size of the bedrooms. Anyone who spent time here would live out in this room. Fi wandered back to the window seat.

  “Give it a go,” Cait said.

  Fi pulled herself onto the cushions, tucking her knees under her chin automatically, and stared out the window, her mind racing. Could she accept something of this nature? It was a huge gift.

  And it felt like home.

  She’d never had this feeling before, Fi realized, this wanting of a space. She’d lived in flats all over the world, including some she’d dearly loved, yet had never felt a desperate need to own the space. But here? This was meant for her.

  “I love it,” Fi admitted, and both her parents let out cheers. They dropped into the armchairs and beamed at her.

  “I told you she would,” Shane said.

  “Not true. It was my idea,” Cait insisted.

  “It was most certainly not.”

  “Was too.”

  “Children,” Fi interrupted, laughing at them, “this doesn’t mean I’ll be moving home.”

  “We figured that. Though you know we wish you would. But here’s what we were thinking.” Shane held up a hand to stop Fi from interrupting. “This will be a great property to have in your portfolio. One thing I’ve noticed is that you collect many things on your travels.”

  “Things that get sent back to us and are now cluttering up your room at home,” Cait interjected.

  “And this could be a place you could put all the things you’ve acquired. I don’t know if you realize that you’ve been slowly decorating your future home on your travels, but you have.”

  “Have I really?” The truth slammed into Fi. Here she’d thought she’d been wandering about and not settling, and instead she’d been slowly accumulating a house worth of stuff. “Well, shite.”

  “So the thought is, you put your stuff here and then you have a place to come home to between clients, and have your own private space.”

  “The property downstairs is great as a holiday let, or you can rent it long-term if you don’t want to fuss with turnovers. It’s extra money in your pocket, and a property manager can look after any issues the tenants have.”

  “I will take it. But!” Fi held up her hand to keep her parents from chattering over her. “The only way I’ll take it is if the rent from the flat below goes straight to you.”

  “No.” Shane shook his head. “That’s for you.”

  “I can’t wrap my head around a gift like this. This is huge. The only way I’ll take it is if you allow me to buy it from you, a month at a time, via rent.” Fi met Shane’s eyes, a stubborn set to her chin.

  “Oh, she’s got that look of hers on,” Cait whispered.

  “You’re breaking me heart here, Fi,” Shane said, holding his hand to his heart, a wounded expression on his face. “You won’t let your own father give you a birthday gift.”

  “I am letting you. The upstairs apartment is a rent-free space for me to live in and use as a free storage unit. That’s a grand gift. The downstairs will be a way to pay you back.”

  “I don’t need your money, darling,” Shane pointed out.

  “I know you don’t. And I know it will likely be years before I pay this house off. But… I just… it’s the only way I can accept something of this magnitude.”

  “She’s got your stubbornness.” Shane glared at Cait.

  “She’s got your pride,” Cait shot back at him.

  “I’m the best of both of you.” Fi smiled at him, glancing back out the window at the people hurrying along the street below, trying to escape indoors before the drizzle that now spattered against the window turned into a full-on downpour. Only one person seemed unconcerned by the rain – a man walking casually down the boulevard toward the docks, his broad shoulders tucked inside a canvas coat. Fi tilted her head and studied him, feeling a familiarity about this man and wishing he would look back over his shoulder.

  She realized her mum had said something. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “If we can pry you away from your new favorite space, we thought you’d might like to see downstairs.”

  “Oh, right, of course.” Fi glanced back out the window once more, but the man had disappeared. She shook her head and turned back to smile at her parents, who were all but bouncing on their heels by the door.

  “You’re the best parents in the world.”

  “We know,” Cait said.

  Chapter 7

  Liam whistled his way down to the docks, nodding his hellos to the villagers on his way. He stopped next to a beauty of a boat, lovingly restored and named The Pirate Queen.

  “Permission to board,” he called.

  “Aye,” Dylan said, popping his head up and waving to him before disappearing below deck again.

  Glad he’d worn his boat shoes today – he didn’t fancy taking off his shoes and socks in this rain – Liam climbed aboard the ship and swung down the ladder to the galley kitchen below. Reaching up, he swung the small door closed just as the sky unleashed a torrent of rain on the boat.

  “Tea?”

  “Aye, that’d be grand,” Liam said, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on a hook in the corner. The galley kitchen was small but serviceable, and Liam immediately felt at ease as the boat gently rocked under him while the rain pummeled from above.

  He’d been landlocked for too long.

  “How’s everything going then?” Dylan, his boss and best friend, settled across the narrow table from him, a pot of tea and two cups between them. Liam couldn’t count the number of times they’d sat just like this – discussing everything from business to their love lives – and he never once took it for granted. It was a blessed life he led, one where he made enough money for his travels, and work he enjoyed. His friendship with Dylan had been the icing on the cake, for not many were allowed into Dylan’s inner circle. He’d been burned by people trying to use him for his connections too many times in the past. Over the years the men had settled into an easy friendship built on mutual respect, trust, and affection.

  “The project is on track. Mr. Murphy kept his house in fair condition, but with the addition of the pavilion
and extended kitchen out back, we’re due to open by spring.”

  “That’s great, but I’m asking about personal.”

  “Oh, me? I’m fine. How about you? Has Gracie run you ragged with wedding planning yet?”

  “Ah, deflection, I see.” Dylan’s eyes studied him over his cup.

  “What’s that mean?” Liam cocked his head at Dylan in question.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I said I was fine.”

  “That’s not really an answer.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s an answer.”

  “It’s a fake answer.”

  “How is being fine a fake answer? I’m always fine. It’s the state in which I operate.” Liam ran a hand through his hair.

  “You don’t seem fine.”

  “Are we going to paint each other’s nails and put face masks on?”

  “Maybe. If that’s what it takes to get you to tell me what’s going on.”

  “There’s nothing going on.”

  “Should I get Grace’s nail varnish then? Pink might be a good color for you.”

  “You’re a pushy one, you know that?”

  “I learned it from you, brother,” Dylan flashed him a grin.

  “I… I don’t know what’s up. I’m tetchy of late. Like an itch between my shoulder blades I can’t quite scratch. There’s no one particular thing or another bothering me. I enjoy the project we’re working on. It’s fun to work on a passion project and do something a little different for once. I love that you’re building something as meaningful as a community center, and the town is as excited about it as we are to be building it. It’s probably the most feel-good project I’ve ever managed.”

  “And yet?”

  “And yet.” Liam shrugged, at a loss as to why he was feeling the way he was.

  “Do you need to go back to sea? We could go for a sail. I’ll tell Grace it’s an extended stag party. Head out for a week or so along the coast.”

  “In this weather? That does not sound fun.”

  “When have rough waters ever bugged you?”

  “I must be getting old.”

  “Maybe you just need to get laid.”

  “Or that.” Liam shrugged. “I haven’t, ahh, sampled the goods here, so to speak.”

  “You’re a smart man. Which is why I’ve hired you,” Dylan observed.

  “It wouldn’t do to mess around in this town. The gossip chain is rampant. Everyone either knows or is related to one another. I don’t want any sort of bad blood on my crew. I know when to keep it in my pants.”

  “Maybe you do need a trip abroad, just to change things up a bit. I’ve got a big project coming down the pipeline if you’ve an interest.”

  “How long would it be for?”

  “Not sure yet. If anything, I wouldn’t mind someone going to feel things out for me.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Spain.”

  “Now that’s interesting. I could spare a few weeks from the project.”

  “I’ll keep you posted.”

  “You aren’t just doing this to try and make me happy, are you?”

  “No, it’s a real project. The timing just works to break you out of your funk.”

  “It’s not a funk.”

  “I know a funk when I see one.”

  “I’ve a mind to funk you right off this boat.” Liam narrowed his eyes at Dylan and was rewarded with a booming laugh. Despite himself, he grinned.

  That was what mates were for.

  Chapter 8

  The rain didn’t let up, which meant the lunch rush would be mad. There was something contrary about the villagers such that rain made them come to the pub in droves instead of staying home in the dry and warmth. Falling into an easy rhythm with Cait, Fi was already behind the bar and building pints when the door opened on a gust of wind.

  Her head whipped up as a wave of longing and awareness washed through all of her senses, and she measured the man who stepped through the door in the seconds before his eyes landed on hers. It was like a lioness scenting her dinner on the wind. And oh, was Liam Mulder still a tasty morsel, Fi decided.

  He’d grown even more handsome, if that was possible, and carried himself with that same easy confidence she’d first admired about him. He’d filled out even more since she’d last seen him, going from a lean man with muscles to a muscular man who looked like he used his hands for a living. Remembering what he could do with those hands made a flush rise to Fi’s cheeks, and she dipped her head to check on the pints she was pouring to make sure she didn’t overfill the glasses. Looking back up, she pasted a wide smile on her face and waited until Liam turned to her.

  “Well, and look at this – it’s a wayward pirate we’ve found wandering into our pub this stormy day,” Fi said, winking at him cheerfully as she finished building the pints. Tamping down on the nerves that fluttered in her stomach, she moved to the end of the bar and placed the pints on a tray for the serving girl, then grabbed another ticket to start the next order.

  “Fi? What are you doing here?” Liam asked, squeezing his way between Mr. Murphy and his cronies to lean his elbows on the bar.

  “Well, where else would she be when she’s in town? It’s her mum’s bar.” Mr. Murphy slapped his leg and laughed, and Fi blew him a kiss.

  “I could ask the same of yourself, Mr. Mulder,” Fi said as she started the next round of pints. “It’s more likely to find meself at this pub than you.”

  “Is Cait your mum?”

  “Aye, I am.” Cait came to stand by Fi and Liam looked between the two, his mouth dropping open.

  “I should have guessed. You’ve a striking resemblance,” Liam said.

  “How’s it you’re knowing our Liam then?” Cait asked, and now it was Fi’s turn to have her mouth to drop open.

  “Your Liam? When did he become your Liam?”

  “When he started building the community center with Dylan,” Cait said with a shrug. “All right then, Connor, I see you want your whiskey. Stop giving me those puppy eyes. It’ll be right along.” Cait bustled off to the other end of the bar to fill orders, leaving Fi to deal with Liam.

  “You know Dylan?”

  “Aye, I do at that. Seeing as he’s my best mate and my boss.” Liam flashed her a grin and Mr. Murphy nodded soberly next to him.

  “He’s the lad who keeps everything together. They’re turning my house into a community center, Fi. Can you believe it? It’s what the space is meant to be used for. It’ll be a happy home once again.”

  “That’s right grand, isn’t it, Mr. Murphy? Absolutely brilliant that they’re using the space in such a manner. I know it’s been a touch lonely for you since Maude passed on.”

  “That it has. She’d be pleased that her home will be filled with people once again.”

  Fi reached over and squeezed Mr. Murphy’s leathery hand.

  “Next round’s on me.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “For being a good soul, that’s why, Mr. Murphy.”

  “I’ll join you on that round, if you’ve a mind to build a pint for me, Fi,” Liam said, nodding gratefully when someone slid a stool toward him. Sitting down, he steepled his fingers under his chin and watched Fi with an unwavering gaze.

  “See something you like?” Fi asked, a shiver running down the back of her neck at his gaze.

  “Of course. A brilliant and beautiful woman building the most perfect pint of Guinness I’ve yet seen poured.”

  “Oh, he’s a smooth talker now,” Mr. Murphy chuckled. “Don’t let Cait hear you swooning after her girl. She’ll have a boot up your arse so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

  “Who am I booting now?” Cait demanded, skidding to a stop on her way to the cooler.

  “Nobody that I know of,” Mr. Murphy said, shaking his head as if to say he was just chattering nonsense.

  “Mm-hmm,” Cait said, singeing them both with a glare before stomping down the bar.

  “F
earsome woman,” Mr. Murphy decided.

  “Thanks for saving me,” Liam laughed.

  “Lads first.” Mr. Murphy shrugged a shoulder.

  Fi chuckled, shaking her head at the two of them. “You two are trouble, aren’t ya? Going to take on the town tonight?”

  “In this weather? Goodness, no.” Mr. Murphy glared at the rain outside. “I’ll be staying right here, thank ye very much.”

  “As it pleases you, then. And you, Liam? We’ve a lovely Guinness stew on the menu today.” Fi smiled at him again, going into full customer service mode, though her mind whirled at his presence. His very nearness was sending her nerves into overdrive and it was as if her body was hyperaware of what the man was capable of doing to her.

  You’re not some foolish young girl with no experience, Fi reminded herself. More than one man has brought a smile to your face in the bedroom.

  But not like this man, her mind argued back.

  Fi firmly shoved those thoughts deep down. Those types of thoughts ended in trouble, something she was distinctly not looking for on this trip – especially this close to home. She preferred having her dalliances and dating life kept far away from the gossips of Grace’s Cove, and that was the truth of it. It wouldn’t do to be seen flirting with the likes of Liam Mulder.

  “That’d be great, Fi. It sounds like the perfect meal for a day like today.”

  “Same for me, pretty lady.” Mr. Murphy nodded to her and Fi turned to tap the order into her mum’s new computer. It had been quite a shock to everyone’s system when Cait had finally upgraded to a digital drink and order register, and though it had taken months for everyone to be on board with the system, they’d eventually all agreed it was much more efficient.

  Plus, it saved them shouting out menu orders over the music so often playing there. It was many a night that Fi had gone to bed with a throat too hoarse to speak for all the shouting she’d done.

  “I suppose I should have connected you to here, what with you being related to Sean and all,” Liam said when she turned back to face him again.