She typed a quick text to Liv.
How’s it going with the Stryker Brigade?
Her friend’s answer came quickly.
Rough. Had to go to Supply for more Kleenex. Twice.
Ah, Liv, I’m sorry. I should’ve stayed to help.
Addy started to type a message about Col. Okafor’s news, then erased it. Her friend was dealing with enough stress as it was. Besides, what could Liv do about a staffing issue?
Bullshit, missy. You did your part. Now go spoil your overworked ass. Self-care, darling.
Does a date count?
A string of emojis followed: a gawking face, a grinning one, and a thumbs up. And then an eggplant.
Whoa now, I just met the guy. In case he turns out to be a serial killer, I’ll be at Gull’s Point Lighthouse with Kieran Gallagher.
She’d memorized the spelling from his uniform nametag.
If you don’t text by midnight, I’ll send the National Guard.
Midnight? The last time she’d stayed up that late was New Year’s Eve at the Officers Club.
I’ll text by ten. Love you, sis.
Liv’s answer: a kiss-blowing emoji.
Eggplant, huh? Could she justify a quick tumble with a willing stranger as self-care? Because Kieran the keeper was mighty tempting.
Snoot tugged hard on the leash, eager to return to his new friend. Or maybe it was just the delicious cooking smells drifting from the stone cottage that fueled his hurry.
When they reached the door, Snoot dropped onto the ground, his trained response to finding a scent target. Weird.
“Is this guy cooking up explosives, bud?” She gave his head a scratch and knocked on the door, which immediately opened to reveal Kieran in a canvas apron that readKiss the Cookand a faded lobster-claw oven mitt.
Tail wagging like a windshield wiper on overdrive, Snoot sprang up and planted his feet on Kieran’s stomach.
“Sorry. Down, Snoot.” The dog obediently sat beside her and whimpered, practically vibrating with joy.
If she had a tail, she’d wag it too.Hunkywas inadequate to describe their host. He’d looked pretty damn sexy in his crisp park ranger uniform, but in snug, worn jeans and a dark green Henley, sleeves pushed up to the elbows to reveal powerful, copper-dusted forearms? Yowza!
She yanked her gaze away from forearm heaven toward his face but got stuck at the vee of russet chest hair curling from the opening in his shirt.
Clearly, Liv was right. Her last sexual encounter was ages ago, and you can only squash a healthy libido for so long.
“You came!” Laugh lines crinkled the corners of his bright hazel eyes, cognac brown with glints of green and gold. His short, silver-sprinkled beard framed plump lips stretched in a welcoming smile.
She knew it was rude, but she couldn’t help gawking at his broad shoulders, well-muscled chest, and sturdy thighs. Old-fashioned woolen slippers covered his enormous feet. Cozy, cute, and delectably male. Powerful stuff!
Addy shuffled her sand-dusted sneakers on his welcome mat and held out the potted mini-ivy plant she’d picked up at the Main Street Food Co-op. “Thanks for having me.”
“How thoughtful.” He cupped her elbow and pulled her inside, inclining his head toward a bench beside the door. “Hope you don’t mind taking off your shoes. Sand gets everywhere, you know.” With his slippered foot, he nudged forward a wicker basket filled with cloth slippers of various sizes. “My sister sent these for guests.”
She toed off her sneakers and chose a pair, noting the tatami insole. “Japanese slippers from an Irish sister?”
He chuckled, a deep, rumbly sound that warmed her better than the flames crackling in the stone hearth. “We’re a far-flung family. Fiona lives in Kyoto. Maeve is in Switzerland, Seamus is in Toronto, and I’m here. Only Aisling stayed in Ireland.”
