He squeezed her closer. “I’m sorry, but the Irish laugh to keep from crying.”

“My mother has said something similar,” she replied. “I think I need a drink.”

“The Irish also do that to keep from crying,” he said. “Let’s hang these and go to the pub.”

Antonia looked up at him. She hadn’t noticed, until now, how much he had shaved down his beard. The planes of his face and the angle of his jaw were more defined with less scruff. His aquiline nose and straight forehead fit perfectly with the rest of his features, she realized. At this angle, only inches from his face, Antonia was keenly aware of their embrace. Her hands were still planted on his sturdy chest. Beneath her fingers, she felt his muscles twitch. Antonia was close enough to notice the small flecks of amber set in the backdrop of emerald irises.

She felt his hands move along her body, one sliding to the small of her back, the other tilting her head away. Antonia understood that, in this moment, she could kiss him. She could sink into his body and taste what she was too afraid to try. Judging by his half-hooded lids, the way he teethed at his bottom lip, Aiden would surely return the kiss. “It’s not too late?” she breathed. She was half referring to her clothes and half wondering if she could share another man’s bed.

“The pub is open until midnight.”

Antonia blinked before laughing. “To hang the clothes.” The water in her eyes began to recede.

“Of course not,” he said, reaching up to wipe a tear from her cheek with his thumb. The gesture was simple and sweet enough for her to lean her cheek into the palm of his hand. “We might not have the sun for too long, but we’ve got plenty of wind.”

Aiden’s certainty of everything made her feel better. He assured her of the best when she was constantly expecting the worst. “Alright then, let’s get that drink.”

Chapter Thirteen

“We’re getting a fierce gale tonight,” Danny announced to no one in particular. He was emptying the cash register and clearing down the bar.

Aiden looked up from his laptop to find that he and Steven were the only patrons left at 4 p.m. “You’re not closing down, are you?”

“Aye, didn’t you hear me?”

Aiden glanced out the window. Sure, the clouds were dark but it didn’t look any worse than the seaside weather he was accustomed to. “But I was actually enjoying my work, Danny.”

“Enjoy it at home,” the barman said, slamming the register closed and slinging his dishtowel over his shoulder. “I’m planning to.”

Aiden reluctantly closed his laptop and shoved it into his bag. He was nearly done with his paper, but he was still mulling over his introduction. Antonia didn’t know it, but she was a large part of why he returned to his work with enthusiasm. Talking to her yesterday morning had jogged something within him. Even their night, right here in the pub, was the shot of energy he needed. After her sudden crying fit, Aiden sensed that something, much larger than this trip, weighed heavy on her mind. Cradling her tear-stained cheek in his hand had stirred something deep within him; Aiden just wanted to make her happy. He had a desperate desire to kiss her tears away. The very thought made him nervous because she wasn’t his to make happy. Aiden finished his beer in one last gulp and took his glass to the bar. “Thanks anyway.”