Beers, Hens, and Irishmen (Warbler's Point Series) (23 page)

             
She picked up her phone and scrolled through her messages finding a message from him talking about when he was going to pick her up for the special slide show date they had, one of the best nights of her life. She pressed reply on her phone and just stared at it. What the hell would she say? She put her phone back down. Texting him would be a huge mistake, especially since she told him to leave her alone.

             
Even though she spoke the words to him, she still couldn’t pull away from the force that drew her toward him tonight. She shouldn’t have had a private moment with him earlier but she couldn’t help herself. He was so damn cute outside, shivering. He was defiantly a California guy. No cold-weather person would have been affected by the weather tonight like he was.

             
She picked her phone up again and stared at the blank screen. Maybe she could ask him if he got home alright. That wouldn’t be too bad. If they were just ‘friends’ like they discussed earlier than that would be a friendly concern. Convincing herself that she was just being a friend, she sent him a text message.

Fiona: Hey Booker, I just wanted to make sure you made it back to your cabin alright since you left before my parents.

              There, perfect. Just a friendly inquire. She waited in anticipation, staring at her phone, willing it to text back, but there was no response. Great! Now she felt like a complete idiot for texting him. She felt a wave of embarrassment rush over her body, her face turned red and her hands started to sweat. Why hadn’t phone companies come up with the idea of retracting a text? They have phones that tell you their favorite color now but asking for a text message back is too hard?

             
Cursing technology she got out of her bed and went to go get a drink out of her fridge, not bothering to turn on any lights. She was tempted to add some alcohol to the juice she was drinking but thought otherwise, getting drunk, by herself, while in such a sad state of mind only asked for problems. She was just putting her cup in her sink when she heard her phone chime. She took off at a sprint toward her room, tripped on the corner of her side table causing her to fly across her apartment and run into the wall right next to her bedroom door.

             
Even though pain was radiating throughout her body, he thanked God no one was there to see her clumsy fall. She went to wiggle her toes to make sure they were still attached and noticed that they were already starting to swell. Fan-fucking-tastic. She got up slowly assessing the damages to her body and noticed during her fall she took a blow to the eye. If that swelled she was going to freak out and most likely bury herself in her apartment until everything was ok again.              

             
She casually gathered herself and worked her way into her bedroom. She sat down on her bed and grabbed her phone, thankfully the message was from Booker, if it was one of her brothers texting her some kind of drunk message like they usually did she was going to be pissed. She opened the text and read it.

Booker: Made it back, thanks.

              That was it? Made it back, thanks? It’s not like she was expecting some handwritten soliloquy from him, but maybe a ‘hey, thanks for asking, everything is great over here, had a fabulous time, thanks for a great night.’ Not that he really had much to thank her for. She practically ignored him the whole night. Feeling extremely disappointed, she wondered if she should send him a message back. She didn’t want to look desperate or anything but she would give anything to have a little piece of Booker tonight. She knew she shouldn’t but after tonight and talking to Finn about Booker and Neala, she was feeling so empty. She decided to go for it. As she went to type in another message, he beat her to the punch.

Booker: P.S. you looked sexy as sin tonight.

              Fiona’s heart skipped a beat and she felt a smile take over her face as she read his text message over and over again. She knew he liked her. He made his feelings toward her obvious but just having the reassurance of his feelings felt amazing. Instead of playing shy, she decided to play up her flirtatious side. It wasn’t like she was face to face with him, now she was feeling grateful for technology giving her the ability to be aloof.

Fiona: So did you.

              She cringed when she sent the message thinking she was coming on a little too strong but then she thought about Booker. It’s not like they hadn’t already had sex, he had seen every last part of her naked body and explored it. Why should she feel embarrassed for calling him sexy? She thought about their once night they shared together, the way he touched her, kissed her and loved her. It was by far the best night she ever had. She was an idiot for not giving him a chance but if she was an idiot with a protected heart then that was ok.

Booker: What are you wearing now?

              His message made her giggle. She probably wasn’t wearing what he was expecting her to be wearing after what she wore as her costume.

Fiona: An oversized t-shirt, sorry to disappoint.

Booker: Panties?

Fiona: None…what about you?

Booker: Panties aren’t really my thing. I’m commando, just the way I like it. Why wear a shirt if you don’t wear panties?

              Fiona laughed at the thought of Booker wearing panties, although his ass would look spectacular. She was feeling friskier than ever when she text him back.

Fiona: I like the way it feels against my skin.

Booker: Damn, that comment just made me hard.

              Why was she participating in this sexual banter? She was giving him the wrong impression. She needed to stop this now but the little devil in the back of her mind told that conscious of hers to shut the hell up and enjoy herself so she sent him a dirty message back instead.

Fiona: Mmm, I remember when you were hard for me.

Booker: I’m still hard for you. Why don’t you come over and relieve me of my pain.

              What she wouldn’t give for one more night with Booker, but that was too much. Texting was fine, but acting on what she was saying was just asking for a broken heart. No she wouldn’t let that happen.

Fiona: In your dreams, Hollywood.

Booker: That’s correct you are in my dreams. But instead of texting, you are lying right next to me, naked, while I stroke your side ever so gently rubbing my thumb against your breast occasionally.

Fiona: That’s quite the dream, seems like your fantasies have gotten the best of you.

Booker: Oh that’s barely a fantasy, if you knew my fantasies your cute little face would turn bright red like it always does when you get embarrassed.

              Damn her Irish genes once again. She hated that she always got super read when she was embarrassed. She hated that Booker noticed one of her most hated traits, she got embarrassed just thinking about her face, causing a wave of heat to roll through her body. She replied sarcastically.

Fiona: Just another fantastic reason why being Irish is so great.

Booker: Well, I find it to be endearing. It shows how real you are, unlike other people I know.

              Fiona always wondered what he was running away from, what brought him to Warblers Point. He made comments about needing a break from his life in California and straying away from fake people. She really wondered what made Booker tick. She stopped herself from wondering because that meant that she was starting to care, and she couldn’t care. She should actually stop this conversation. She went too far tonight.

Fiona: Well I better get to bed, have a good night. Glad you got back alright.

Booker: Thanks for checking in on me. If I didn’t know better I would think you had a crush on me or something.

              She smiled from ear to ear. Damn him and his charm.

Fiona: Keep dreaming Hollywood…good night.

Booker: Oh I will, believe me. You are the leading lady in my dreams.

              Fiona sighed like a teenager in love and set her phone down for the night. She ventured into her bathroom to take a quick look at her face, just in case she had a black eye. She was pleased to see that her face was just red, no serious bruising, that was a relief. How embarrassing would that be to have to explain to her brothers as to why she had a black eye. She would have to say she got so excited about a boy texting back that she tripped over her side table and launched herself into the wall head first. Not her most graceful moment.

Chapter 11

             
Booker had not seen or heard from Fiona in a few weeks. Weeks! How was that even possible? After the Halloween party he had to leave for California for a brief meeting with some of executives of his production company but he was back to Warblers Point in a couple of days. He thought about how the travel was easy and how he could actually see himself settling in Warblers Point and flying to California occasionally, if only a certain auburn haired Irish girl would give him a chance.

             
When he got back to Warblers Point he went to the pub but didn’t see Fiona at all. He found out casually through conversation with Mary Margaret that Fiona went to go visit her cousin’s family in Northern Vermont to help out with her cousin’s move to her new house. That explained her absence. He decided not to text her or call because he wanted her to make the first step, like he planned but she didn’t make a move, not since the Halloween party. He assumed she was waiting for him to make a move, stubborn girl. He could be more stubborn than her though and he wasn’t cracking.

             
There was a knock on his cabin, he set his computer on his bed, made sure to save his work and opened the door. Standing outside was his sister. He let her in. She finally made the trip out to Warblers Point and just got done settling in her cabin that was two cabins down from his.

             
He offered her coffee but she turned him down. “Are you all settled in?” He asked.

             
“Yes, I am. Thank you so much for setting this up for me. I love it here. I know why you have been here for so long. It’s so quaint and serene and the O’Learys are so lovely. I kind of want to adopt them as our parents.”

             
Booker chuckled. “Yea, they are quite the couple. Love their Irish accents.”

             
“How could you not? Mary Margaret is like a character from Hansel and Gretel or something with that apron. She is hilarious.”

             
“She makes the best bacon, wait until tomorrow morning, you will be blown away.”

             
“Speaking of food, I’m kind of starving.”

             
Booker placed his coffee mug in the sink in the little galley kitchen and grabbed his jacket. “Then let’s go get some food.”

             
“Let me guess, are we going to the pub?”

             
Blaire knew him too well. He was going to take her there so she could see the place that he had grown to love but he was also hoping to catch a glimpse of Fiona since he had not seen her in far too long. He was having serious withdrawals and wasn’t sure how much longer he could take his idea of letting her make the first move.

             
“You have a jacket?” He asked ignoring her question.

             
“Yes I just have to run to my cabin to get it. Thanks for the gift card to the mall for some winter clothes by the way. I got some pretty cute stuff. You spoil me, you know that?”

             
“Who else would I spoil? You’re my sister and you work hard, you deserve it.”

             
“Thanks, Book. I’ll be right back.”

             
While Booker waited for Blaire to grab her jacket he took a quick look at himself in the mirror and wasn’t happy. He was wearing a baggier pair of jeans and an older sweatshirt. He couldn’t go to the pub looking like that so he pulled out a pair of his tighter jeans and put them on. Then he grabbed a plaid button up shirt and threw a navy blue sweater over it so just the collar and cuffs were showing. He sprayed some cologne on and surveyed his appearance. Much better.