His Wicked Celtic Kiss (21 page)

After several minutes, Lorcan's breathing returned to normal.

“Jaysus Christ ... ” he moaned.

“One of your nightmares?” she asked quietly.

“The same nightmare ... ” he croaked. “Over and bloody over again.”

Now wasn't the time to pepper him with questions. He was so distraught, so very upset. Julie rocked him in her arms, and started to hum the only Irish song she thought would be appropriate, the Irish lullaby from that old Bing Crosby movie where he played a priest. The local television station had shown it every Christmas Eve when she was a kid.

Lorcan's soft sobs quieted eventually and he fell asleep. Julie curled in close and let sleep take her at last.

The trip back to Rockland the next day had been a quiet one. Lorcan had awoken the next morning and cringed as he recalled the nightmare and what occurred after. To Julie's credit—and to her parents as Lorcan was sure they had heard his agonizing screams as well—they had acted at breakfast as if nothing had happened. With a hearty handshake and a plastic container full of leftover turkey, they were on their way. Five hours later, he sat alone in his empty apartment. Sorry he had quit smoking eight years ago, he could use a damn cigarette right now. Instead, he had a drink. While slowly sipping on his Irish whiskey, he closed his eyes reliving every moment he lay in her embrace as she rocked and hummed
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
to him while he sobbed like a wee babe. Though he'd been mortified at what had happened, Julie had handled him and the situation with a depth of compassion that stunned him.

It figured that the one time he'd decided to stay over in a place with other people, the night terror came back with a potent force he'd never had before. He could still smell the burning flesh, the copper scent of blood. It had seemed too damned real. How embarrassing for Julie and her family to be exposed to his—weakness. No, not weakness. His guilt, more like.
Welcome to my nightmare.

If he possessed any guts at all, he would go to Julie's right now and explain. What, exactly? Why he could never give his heart to her? Because he no longer had one? Far easier to pretend he felt nothing, that what they shared was temporary and casual and hardly registered as far as his emotions were concerned. Too bad all of it was a feckin' lie.

Lorcan threw back the contents of the glass, slipped into his leather coat and headed to his car.

• • •

Julie lay in bed reading, but as it stood, she had read the same page over and over for the last thirty minutes. They'd hardly conversed on the way home. So what would she and Lorcan do, go back to their routine of work and hot weekend sex? Something between then had inexplicably changed, both had felt it, but neither spoke of it. Why? Because she was afraid of rejection and Lorcan too afraid to feel? To Julie, the nightmare explained his keeping a distance emotionally. But now that she knew about his horrid nightmares if not what they were exactly, would Lorcan become more determined to close himself off? Julie was frustrated and confused beyond belief. Short of grabbing him and shaking some sense into him, what could she do? Deep to her core, she knew it would be hard for him to speak of the night terrors he suffered or to relive the ghastly event
.

The loud sound of the buzzer on the back entrance cut through her thoughts. Who in hell would be here? The time was nine o'clock. The bakery had been closed two days for the Thanksgiving holiday. Ronnie wasn't due to arrive until four in the morning and she had her own key. This could be a drawback to living at a place of business. Deliveries maybe? No, Ronnie told her they arrived during work hours, no other time. The buzzer rang again. They were certainly insistent. Julie stood. Her oversized Baltimore Ravens jersey and black leggings would have to do as attire. She marched through the back hallway and peered through the peep hole in the door.
Lorcan.
This she did not expect.

Julie opened the door. The cool, autumn breeze ruffled Lorcan's hair. He looked entirely handsome, but unreadable. “Sorry to show up without calling, can I come in for a wee bit?”

Julie stepped aside and they walked toward the small living room. “Can I take your coat?”

Lorcan seemed to hesitate. “No, I'm fine.”

He didn't plan on staying. A wave of queasiness clutched her insides. He was going to cut her loose. She had witnessed too much. He had to create a distance between them. Well, as she told her mother, whether the break-up came now or a month from now, it would hurt like hell anyway. Julie steeled herself for the rejection to come. And try as she might, she couldn't stop the words from tumbling out. “Is this the part where you say it's over between us? Not that there was much to begin with according to you. Sorry I got too close.” She admonished herself inwardly for her voice quivering on the last few words.

“Damn it all ... ” he muttered. Lorcan plopped onto the sofa. “Sit down, Julie.”

She did, keeping her distance. “I understand. You have your life in Ireland. You're determined to leave. I get that. You didn't want anyone to know what you suffer. I get that, too. I'm fine with it. I didn't get a chance to tell you, I'm buying into Ronnie's bakery business, not an equal partner, but I'll also be taking on new responsibilities as assistant manager.”

He looked confused at the sudden rush of info but said, “Congrats, darlin'.”

She was aware she was babbling, but couldn't seem to stop herself. She tried to turn the subject away from what he came to say. Delay the inevitable. “My work history consists of being a cashier at various supermarkets, so this is a step up for me. I never went to college, even though my parents offered to pay. I denied their assistance many times. For years I had no confidence in myself or my abilities. I've had a long, slow climb to gain even a small portion of it. I have you to thank for gaining the rest.”

Lorcan exhaled and ran his hands through his hair. “You're thanking me? Why? Are you saying goodbye? Do you think I'm here to break it off?”

“Aren't you? I mean, there is less than two months before you leave.”

He took her hand, his thumb running against her pulse point, kicking it up a couple of notches. “I'm here to thank you for your compassion and understanding. It means a lot to me. That nightmare was the worst I had experienced in some time.”

“Is this why you never stayed overnight except for the time I had sunstroke?”

Lorcan exhaled deeply, his whole body shuddered with the ragged release of his breath. “Aye. It comes at strange times, weeks and months can go by with nothing. Then, I can be plagued for nights. I didn't want to burden you with this. Seems I did anyway. I slept on the couch the nights I stayed at your place. Oh bollocks, it wasn't only the burden. I didn't want you to see what I suffer from. I didn't want to seem—weak.”

“You can burden me with anything, Lorcan. Tell me about it, can you?” she urged, her voice soft. She'd wanted to inundate him with questions about his night terror on the way home from her parents, but after witnessing the agony he suffered the night before, decided to wait to see if he would volunteer the information on his own. Pushing him into talking about such trauma would cause him to withdraw further. She knew enough about him to know how he would react to such an interrogation.

His body stiffened briefly, but soon relaxed. “It happened in 2008 while I served in the Irish army. We were part of a UN peacekeeping force. A small village near the Chad border, the name isn't important. The people were starving. Even though we were there to protect them, we were also under a general mandate not to interfere, but some of us helped when we could. They were struggling to live. A few of us helped rebuild the small school, a hut really. The children ... ” his voice trailed off. “I admit I grew fond of the lot of them. Too attached. One in particular.”

Julie stroked his arm, encouraging him forward. “Was that the name you called out, Drima?”

“Aye. He was a fireplug, that one. Smart as a whip. If I could have adopted the little bloke, I would have.”

Julie kissed his forehead. “Oh, Lorcan.”

“Two days after we were told to stand down and camped in the nearby hills, the Janjaweed Militia raided the village and killed everyone. Butchered them really, there were body parts everywhere. We could do nothing since we were hampered by the UN resolution and army orders. Also, we were outnumbered. We couldn't assist even if we wanted to, or we would've been killed. So we stood there and watched—helplessly. The screams ... I still hear them. I heard Drima. He had been calling for me when he was struck down.” Lorcan turned his head away.

Julie embraced him. This explained so much. His keeping people at a distance, the haunted look she had seen in his magnificent eyes on occasion. He was suffering. Maybe a form of post-traumatic stress disorder, but she really knew nothing about it. Had he received any professional help for these nightmares? Again, she was tempted to ask, but Lorcan had to come to that conclusion himself. Meanwhile, she was pleased he came over to explain what happened in more detail. Warmth curled about her heart at hearing his emotional confession. He never would've told her such private torments if he didn't care for her very much. A small kernel of hope bloomed deep inside her.

The compassion he showed for the villagers and the love he had for that little boy—so much love he would've adopted him—touched Julie in a place she did not know existed. It made her love Lorcan all the more. Someday, he would make a wonderful father. Julie's chest contracted in painful longing. How wonderful it would be to have him father her children. Oh, she had it
bad
.
Heartache, here I come. So much for the kernel of hope.

After some minutes, Lorcan spoke. “This all proves I'm not ready for anything serious with anyone. It's not you. It's all on me.”

The temptation to pull her hand from his and slap him silly nearly overcame her, but as she looked into his eyes, she saw he truly believed this. It wasn't a lame excuse to be rid of her. “I see.”

“Let's just continue on as we have, Julie. Unless you want to end it here.”

Right, put the decision on her. Not a damned chance. “Okay. Onward to the finish line. I can do that.” The words were clipped and emotionless. No, she would not act like a snappish, spoiled princess. Julie pulled her hand away and laid it on his cheek. “I'm here for you,” she said in a soft voice. “Anytime you want to talk, I'm here. You might not want to hear this, but in my eyes? You're a hero. You ran into Nick's burning bar and pulled him to safety. You did everything you could to help the people in that village. To help Drima. You did all you could do. And don't say it wasn't enough. And here's a newsflash. You are not weak.” She trailed a couple of fingers along his chin. “Stay for a while. I can make us a pot of tea. Whip you up a turkey sandwich.”

Lorcan nodded and pulled her close. He smelled of leather, spice, and everything masculine. Now was not the time to reveal her feelings. She had to think about this for a while. Meantime, she spoke the truth. She would support him in any way he would allow. She loved him that much.

• • •

As November moved into December wavered on the horizon. Julie's parents wanted her to visit and she was eager to see them again. They mentioned bringing Lorcan—not a good plan. After Christmas, he would be gone in a couple of weeks. Perhaps the time had arrived to distance herself from him, and from the inevitable farewell that loomed on the horizon. Even though she dreaded it, she tried not to focus on it.

Her parents generously gave her the loan after the family lawyer inspected the business prospectus. When all had been deemed proper and fair, Julie signed on the dotted line and bought twenty percent of the bakery. She worked longer hours, but reveled in the added responsibility and welcomed the distraction from Lorcan.

Sundays would roll around and they continued their routine of movies and sex. The encounters were still deeply intimate, at least physically. But conversation remained trivial. There'd been no further discussion on his night terrors or anything else.

When Julie opened her door the Sunday before Christmas, she had decided to talk to him about her feelings. Her mother's words from Thanksgiving had been reverberating in her head for the last few weeks …
tell him how you feel
. Lorcan might run screaming into the streets at her declaration, what did she have to lose? She had to get it off her chest. Even though her first reaction to overhearing he was merely “fond” of her was to keep her feelings to herself, she'd had a few weeks to mull the situation over. The intense emotions affected her sleep and her life. If she lost him, at least she'd been honest with herself.

Even if Lorcan accepted her pronouncement of love, how could they mesh their lives together? Would she give up on her cakes and the bakery and follow him across the ocean? Or would he stay in Rockland with her and let go of his dream of returning home? Maybe they could do both. She shook away the insane thoughts as she followed him into the living room.

After taking Lorcan's leather coat and hanging it in her closet, she led him to her sofa then after they were seated, lightly caressed the prominent veins on the tops of his large hands.“About Christmas … ”

Lorcan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I've already made plans with Sully. Sorry I didn't tell you sooner, Julie.”

She smiled. “That's fine. I'm going to my parents for two nights.” She glanced around the room. “I wish now I put up a tree, even a small one. I'll try and purchase one in those after Christmas sales. My mother loves them. I'll be home on the twenty-seventh. I actually was going to ask if you wanted to exchange gifts.”

“I assumed we were. I already got you one,” he replied.

Continuing her gentle stroking, she whispered, “Good, I got you one as well. Exchange them when I return?”