Where the Streets Have No Name(38)

Tension between them thickened. An entity in itself.

“What I meant to say is you look like there’s something important on your mind.” She reached a hesitant hand across the table, resting it over his. Her fingers curled around his fist. “And if you want, you can talk to me about it. About anything.”

He’d already tried to tell her about his past but she’d shut him down. She might think it didn’t matter, but she didn’t know. If he told her, that might change things between them. No, not might. Telling Amelia where he spent the past fifteen years would be the knife to cut the cord between them.

Studying him, she popped the last bite of toast in her mouth, smiling like she had a secret. She didn’t know…couldn’t know.

Or did she?

Daniel scowled into his mug, chugging down the hot tea. Bloody useless shite, that’s what he was. Good for nothing and no one. But damn it, she invaded his senses and made him want things he’d never thought possible. Not until Amelia.

She hummed the tune to a song he’d heard over a hundred times but couldn’t recall all the words, twirling a strand of her dark hair around a finger, looking for all the world like she hadn’t a single worry on her mind. Her smiles were free and easy. But the look she gave him was hot enough to melt the polar ice caps. She made him burn for her.

“Should we get going?” Amelia asked.

“Aye.” Sure, right when his trouser snake wanted to make an escape from its denim prison, she wanted to get up and walk through a country inn.

Finished with breakfast, they checked out and got on the road but Daniel had trouble concentrating. Thoughts of Amelia with nothing on filled his mind, and those thoughts turned wicked. Man, he needed to focus! The reason for her trip wasn’t to have constant, explosive sex with a man she found on the side of the road. She had a purpose.

But was he standing in her way?

Daniel scowled, giving the road his full attention.

At least, he tried.





Each day passed much like the one before. The trepidation of reaching Dublin left behind, they carried on along the coast, spending their days out in the warming summer sun and light sprinkles of sweet rain, walking along the beaches. Making memories and sharing in the task of spreading her loved one’s remains.

Once the sun drifted behind the shadows of the sea and the moon rose high in the sky, framed by sparkling stars and wisps of cloud, Daniel ate his tea with Amelia while a storm of desire whipped inside him, threatening to break free and consume them both.

At night, once they were alone, Daniel stripped away the layers of clothing they both wore and kissed every inch of her bare flesh. He worshipped her like she deserved, used his hands and mouth and body to show her what his voice lacked the ability to tell her. And each time he sunk between her thighs, skin on skin, he fell deeper. Love bloomed in his chest with every thrust; the trusting look she gave him and her sweet whispered words spurring him on.

Today, however, she was uncharacteristically quiet, sitting in the passenger seat of her rental while he drove along the River Shannon, heading into Limerick. She’d pulled out her tablet thing half an hour ago, read something – he’d paid too close attention to the road to be spying, to see exactly what – and then shut herself off.

How he wanted to ask her what thoughts filled her head and made her look so pensive. Instead he focused on the road and snuck surreptitious glances in her direction. At a stop in traffic, Daniel studied her for clues. He saw tension in the set of her jaw, stiffness in her shoulders. Behind this though he noted her quiet determination. Strength in her resolve. She must have felt his eyes on her and yet Amelia kept her gaze centred.

Suddenly, Amelia smiled and said, “Hey, I think there’s a ferry boat around here. Can we take it?”

Daniel tried to recall if he’d ever taken a ferry before. Not a single memory came to the forefront of his mind. Maybe he hadn’t. There had never been much money to go around growing up and from birth until the day he was arrested and sentenced, he hadn’t gone on any vacations.

“Sure,” he said.

He followed the directions she gave and they ended up on the ferry crossing River Shannon. They’d miss Limerick completely. Good. Just another place to get recognised. Even the hat he picked up from an outdoor clothing shop when they bought raincoats didn’t do much to disguise his face. Just like Da, Daniel’s features were very distinctive. Sometimes it worked in his favour.

Most of the time, however, he thought his face was like a curse. Especially since the bombing that took his life away. People either recognised him – which he couldn’t do a damned thing about – or they stared, and that made him just as uncomfortable.