“Likewise.”

A corner of his mouth quirks up, but he grows serious almost immediately. “You’re leaving in a matter of weeks. It won’t be long after before I sell this place and return to racing. If its commitment you’re scared of, you’ve nothing to worry about here.”

“Is this your way of asking for a fling?” My gaze drops to his lips as they move to hover over mine. I’m positively frozen, waiting to see what he’ll do. “If so, I told you I’m not interested.”

“Liar.”

“This inn is sorely lacking in hospitality,” I respond lamely. “I’ve been accused of fibbing already this morning.”

“That should tell you something.” He wets his lips slowly, pupils dilating. My heartbeat is so deafening in my ears, I wonder if he can hear it. “It’s inevitable, Willa. We are inevitable. When you stop fooling yourself, come and find me.” Imperceptibly, his fingers tighten in my hair, just enough to straighten my spine with awareness. “In the meantime, no more talk of other men. That was an end to it.” When all I do it stare, buffering between indignation and awe at his balls of steel, he drags his lips across mine. My belly begins to ache, not in a bad way. In a hot, melting way that makes my thighs feel ticklish. “Nod if you understand me.”

After a long pause, I nod. I can’t believe it. I fucking nod.

Shane releases me and steps back, his every move appearing reluctant. I’m reluctant for him to let me go, too. That kiss is now something I want badly, at least in this moment where my walls are down. But I was right, he’s not going to take advantage of the situation. Between that and his kind treatment of Kitty, I’m starting to wonder if maybe I was wrong about Shane, too. He looks like he wants to say more, but instead he leaves me standing there and walks to the door.

Before he closes the door behind him, he sticks his head back in. “I wouldn’t drink that cold tea if I were you. She’s been hiding the pot in her closet since last Tuesday.”

The door shuts on my laugh, echoed by his on the other side.

Chapter Eight

It’s dark when I make it back to the inn. I’m having a hard time keeping the smile off my face. Today might have started off on the disconcerting side, but it rallied as soon as I got to Dalkey Castle. By chance, I’d wandered into a live show where actors, dressed in authentic Medieval garb, pretend to be castle workers from the 1500s. I found it so clever and entertaining, I’d stayed for a second show. The illusion was shattered afterward when I saw the actors sharing a joint and talking on iPhones behind the theater, but hey, it was fun while it lasted.

After grabbing a quick lunch, I’d spent some time in the Heritage Center. I couldn’t wait to talk to Ginger and tell her what I found. As soon as I get to my room and kick these boots off my sore feet, I’m going to throw myself on the bed and give her a call. Since Chicago is six hours behind Dublin, she’ll still be working at Sneaky Peet’s, her furniture shop in Wicker Park, but maybe I can catch her in between customers.

Through the glass of the front door, I take a second to watch Shane as he serves a group of young female customers. He smiles absently as he slides them their change, probably not even realizing what a panty-soaker that mysterious half smile can be to the opposite sex, making it twice as effective. As soon as he turns his back, one of them pretends to swoon, the rest of the group pressing manicured hands to their chests as if he’s walked away with their still-beating hearts. I’m not annoyed by the sight, at least I don’t think so, but something is sparking in the base of my neck. Something that won’t go away when I swallow. Never having been jealous a day in my life, at least not over a boy, I can’t put a name to the feeling. But I’m positive I shouldn’t be feeling it over Shane.

If its commitment you’re scared of, you’ve nothing to worry about here.

As valiantly as I’ve tried to ignore Shane’s proposition this morning, his words have been echoing in my head all damn day. At first, they’d nicked my feminine pride a little. Weren’t boys supposed to at least bullshit you a little about wanting forever? Evan hadn’t wasted a moment offering me the moon on a silver platter. One time when he’d met me after an afternoon of tailgating and watching football with his buddies, he’d drunkenly started naming our future children. Back then, it had scared the shit out of me. Yet in contrast to Shane’s three-week exit strategy, or entrance strategy, depending on how you look at it, bestowing a moniker on nonexistent offspring is a comfort. It had merely been talk, while Shane’s indecent proposal required a decision in the here and now. I thought I’d made the decision. No way, no how, was I letting him anywhere near me. The more I think about it, though, the more it appeals. A lot.

We are obviously attracted to one another. Neither one of us wants or is available for any kind of messy commitment. On the bus ride home, one thought had permeated my head with stark clarity. Is this my first grown-up, no-strings-attached fling, just waiting to happen? I’ve never been in this position before. It’s entirely possible that this confusion and anger Shane provokes in me is…lust? Pure, undiluted, want-to-rip-his-clothes-off lust.

Maybe I’ve been so worried about my feelings getting wrapped up without someone else’s so soon after Evan, I’ve placed too much importance on what Shane makes me feel. I’m starting to wonder if the best course of action isn’t just to say yes to his proposition and get it over with. Scratch the itch. Once it’s done, I can move on, secure in the knowledge that I’m in control of my own destiny and not every man who crosses my path has the power to change me, or put some kind of hold on me.

Yes, I’m actually considering sleeping with Shane.

After all, what’s the worst that could happen? I’m only going to think about it. No harm in kicking the idea around, right?

With my tentative resolve wedged firmly between my shoulders, I push open the door to the Claymore Inn. For a Monday night, there is a decent crowd. Most of the bar is full and half the tables are scattered with empty glasses as customers lean toward one another and talk too loudly, laughing even louder. A Stone Roses song is playing, blurring all the conversations into one. The smell of beer, cologne, and fried food is starting to become familiar and it hits me now, reminding me I never ate dinner.