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Where the Streets Have No Name(11)

By:Danielle Taylor


“We’ll take a walk then,” he said, mostly to push out the rage bubbling in his chest. “We’ll take a walk and when we find the perfect place, you can…”

He couldn’t say the words.

A little hiccup, then a deep, shuddering sigh. Amelia grabbed his hand, clutching tight. “Thank you,” she whispered, then lifted his hand to her lips and grazed his knuckles. “Thank you.”

Damn, but he wished he knew a way to take her pain from her. He’d bear it all just to see a permanent smile on her pretty lips.

They walked in silence along the beach. Moist chill air hung around them, heavy with the tang of the sea. Daniel carried the urn in one arm and held Amelia up with the other. He shouldn’t feel so grand with her arm around his waist, but damn, he did.

Had he never walked down the street like this with a lass? He couldn’t recall. There’d been his sort-of girlfriend Roisin, but she was different. She wasn’t as soft and sweet at Amelia. She never had his heart rear-ending his ribs.

His entire life fast-forwarded before his eyes. All the things he missed. Every sunrise and sunset. Seasons changing. Holidays. Birthdays. His family…

Pain slammed into his chest, tearing up his insides like a rogue hurricane.

Focus on walking, he told himself. Focus on Amelia. Aye, he’d do that.

A good while later, Amelia stood at his side, staring into the open urn. Jaysus, he didn’t blame her for hesitating. While others might feel revulsion at the thought of scooping a handful of ashes into their hands, they both knew it was different. Inside this container was all that remained of a person she loved. A person who once lived and breathed. Made of flesh and blood and bones and muscle.

Someone who laughed and cried, who had hopes and dreams. Someone important. It wasn’t the thought of sticking her hand in and touching his ashes that tore at Amelia’s soul, but the thought of letting them go afterwards; of releasing them to the wind and watching pieces of that loved one vanish before her eyes.

Daniel didn’t sing. He never sang, except at church, as a boy. The only songs he knew were hymns. Maybe that was fitting for this moment?

No, a stupid idea it was. But what should he do? The moment called for something…

“I miss you, Pops,” Amelia whispered, reaching in to take a handful of ashes in her small fingers. She sniffed, lifted her head, and walked to the edge of the water. Once there she released the ashes, scattering them into the wind and sea. Releasing part of her Poppa back into the world; in all the places he loved.

Daniel’s chest contracted. Emotions swarmed his mind and his heart. Fearing he’d drop the urn, he replaced the lid and set it gently down on the sand. Then he walked to where she stood, her shoulders tight and trembling.

She needed cheering up. He had no words to give her, but he had two arms and a sturdy chest. He offered her that comfort, gathering her close, giving her a small piece of him in return. They shared the moment, shared in the comfort of a stranger’s embrace.

She shuddered. He tightened his arms. Amelia pulled down on his neck, crushing her cheek to his, tears wetting his skin.

“Ah, lass,” he sighed, touching his lips to her jaw. He meant to comfort her. Meant the kiss as something sweet.

But Amelia pulled back, staring at his mouth. In the next breath she brushed her lips over his, sliding her tongue hesitantly over the closed seam. Daniel growled. His mouth opened, hot and hungry over hers. Amelia gasped at the intrusion.

Part of him wanted to break away and apologise; the other part of him, the part that needed her framed Amelia’s face with his hands and forged onwards. His fingers danced over her silken locks, leading down to the ends dangling low on her back.

Daniel sighed. They shared another moment, this time of hesitant intimacy, learning the feel and taste of one another. Her skin felt so soft. She smelled like apples and wildflowers and mint.

Heat swelled at his groin and his heart beat furious tattoo under his ribcage. Out here, in the fresh sea air with nothing around them but skies, Daniel was free, and he could kiss Amelia all he wanted to without fear of repercussion.

He pulled her closer. A desperate force ripped around them, stealing fragments from the fabric of time. Like this moment’s end might come sooner than he hoped. A kiss brimming with passion filled his head for a lifetime, but he’d take a lifetime of kisses over just the memory of a kiss.

The thought turned his mouth demanding; dominant in a way that made his stomach clench. God he wanted her, like a teenaged boy with his first lust-crazed crush, desperate to get in a lass’ pants. Aye, he wanted her, but he wasn’t deserving of her.

Amelia was soft and sweet. She deserved a man who could give her the world, not someone trapped in a half-life, who’d be forever looking over his shoulder.