“At first, one breath at a time,” he told Jack. “And then it was one step at a time, and finally, with your dad’s help, one day at a time.”
“Smart man, my dad,” Jack said.
“Talk to him,” Joe urged, “then talk to my girl. Life’s too short to throw away what you two have because of your misplaced sense of pride.”
“It’s not pride,” Jack told him.
“What is it then?”
He hesitated. “Guilt.”
Joe added, “Ah, your mother raised you to be a good Irish son, then?”
Jack’s lips twitched at Joe’s exaggerated brogue. He nodded.
“So, you were raised with Irish Catholic guilt?” Jack shrugged, and Joe said, “The worst kind.”
Jack felt his lips twitching again, this time he gave in and smiled. “Thanks, Joe.”
“No problem,” Joe said, turning to go.
“I thought you needed to see me about something.”
Joe stopped in the doorway and grinned. “I did.”
Jack watched him leave, surprised to discover he was still smiling when he got the text from his mom that they’d made it home and were being lavished with puppy kisses.
He told them he had a stop to make on the way home, packed up, and drove to the Mulcahys’ place.
When he showed up at the back door, it was Grace and not Cait who stood there smiling. “She’s upstairs, go on up.”
Jack took the stairs two at a time and walked down the hallway. It felt good, he realized. He had a mission in life; he had a purpose—unburden the whole of his demons to Cait and move forward with their relationship from there. He was keeping her.
He was smiling when he pounded on her bedroom door.
“Be down in a minute, Grace.”
“It’s not Grace.”
When she didn’t immediately open the door, he knocked again, “Open up, Cait. I need to talk to you.”
“I’m half-dressed and my dad and sister are downstairs, which is where you should be. I’ll be right down.”
“But you’ve been after me to talk to you for days.”
“I changed my mind. Maybe I’m not as ready as I thought if it’s taken you this long to open up. I don’t want to scare you away if I don’t react the way you expect me to. I can’t take the chance of letting you down. Please, just go downstairs.”
“I can’t. I need to talk to you now, and I need to see your face when I tell you what happened.”
“Can’t you come back in an hour?”
“No! I’ve waited long enough. Open the door.”
“Not yet—”
“I have your father’s permission to break it down,” he lied, because if he didn’t spill his guts right now, he might not be able to for months!
There was a moment of silence before she told him, “Go ahead.”
God, why was she hiding from him? Was she really that scared? He felt like the Big Bad Wolf, but if that was the way she wanted to play it, so be it. He took a few steps back and shouted, “Stand back, you ornery Irishwoman!”
He got a running start and was about to bash into the door with his shoulder when it opened up. At the last second, he twisted his body and rammed his shoulder—instead of his head—into the plaster wall, cracking it.
Gasping for breath, certain that he’d dislocated his shoulder, he groaned as she demanded, “What did you call me?”
“Ornery,” he rasped, holding on to his aching shoulder while he struggled to stand. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, digging deep to get past the pain. “You badger me for days and tell me to talk to you…and now that I am—”
Her face paled. “Please just give me a little more time. This is too important to you—to us—for me to hear what you have to say and react instinctively—and take a chance of losing you forever. I love you too much to risk it.”
How could he refuse? He let her pass. “I love you, Caitlin.” He reached for her. She looked up at him with fear and tears in her eyes. The emotions tumbling through her humbled him. “I love you, Cait, and I’ll wait. Come over when you’re ready to listen—oh and one more thing.” He locked gazes with her. “I’ll come looking for you if you don’t.”
She squeezed his hand and nodded. “I’ll be there, I just need time to clear my head.”
Watching her walk away, knowing what he had to do, preferring to do it himself, he slammed his shoulder into the doorway and felt it shift back into place in the socket.
“God that hurts.” When he walked into the kitchen, Grace handed him a glass of water and two aspirins. “She’s probably going to talk to Peggy.”