Irish Sex Fairy: Ellora's Cave by Kelly Jamieson (the lemonade war series TXT) 📕

gentle touch. Finally she lifted her head and met his eyes.

“Okay?” he asked in that whiskey-smooth voice.

She gave a jerky nod. He didn’t move back to his seat.

“What triggered that?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Okay. So. We were talking about Maeve.” He kept his gaze fastened on her. “You’re worried she might have Alzheimer’s.”

She swallowed. “Do you think…?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can she run a business if she can’t remember things? What if she forgets to pay her bills? Order stock?”

Shane’s eyes shadowed. “I know. That’s what I’m worried about. I can’t be here all the time. Lord knows I have my own family to worry about.”

She studied him. “What do you mean? Are your parents not okay, Shane?”

She’d met them a few times that summer. Shane’s parents were so much fun—they made every dinner a party, every get-together full of food and drink, music and talk, laughter and love.

His mouth firmed. “Da had a stroke a couple of years ago.”

“Oh no. I’m so sorry…is he okay?”

“He’s alive.” Shane shrugged. “Actually he’s doing very well. But it’s been a long rehab. It’s been pretty hard on both of them.”

“I’m sure it has.” Her heart squeezed. “I didn’t know about that.”

“Why would you? Anyway, now you’ve finally deigned to visit…”

Anger flared inside her and she straightened her spine. “Deigned? Jesus Christ, you really think you’re just perfect, don’t you? I’m sorry I can’t live up to your high standards of perfection, but I have a life and…”

“Shut up.”

She gaped at him.

To her utter shock, he laughed. Laughed! “I shouldn’t have said that but I’d rather see you mad than defeated.”

“What!”

“I know you’re busy. I was about to say, you being here now is good, you can keep an eye on her and see how bad things are.”

“But—” She stopped. She wanted to scream. He could not just push her buttons with those self-righteous, judgmental little comments, and then not let her defend herself. Aaaaargh! She drew in a long, slow breath. “I’ll keep an eye on her. Excuse me.” She lifted her chin in a request for him to move so she could stand and he did. “I’d offer to pay for coffee but I left without my purse.”

“It’s fine. I got it.” He shoved his hand into his front pocket. The gesture was so masculine and sexy it made her stomach flutter. He pulled out a few bills and tossed them on the table. “Let’s go.”

He left her at the door of the shop with a scowl and a muttered “See ya later”. Keara pushed into the store, still seething.

Deep breath, she reminded herself. Luckily Maeve was talking to a customer and she had a few minutes to stand behind the counter, breathing, forcing herself to be rational. This was one of the things Dr. Cogan had mentioned—being irritable, getting angry over little things. Dammit. Even though she knew about it, she just couldn’t seem to help it. And Shane seemed to know just how to push her buttons.

He probably wasn’t doing it on purpose. She repeated that thought over and over. It was just her, overreacting. Guilty conscience, shredded nerves, paranoia…that was her lately. She inhaled another long pull of air, forced a smile as Maeve and the customer approached the counter.

After the customer had left, Maeve turned to Keara, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “So…how was your coffee with Shane?”

Oh lord. Keara swallowed her sigh. “He’s very annoying,” she muttered.

Maeve lifted a brow. “Hmmm.”

“Hmm what?” Annoyance at Maeve’s tone snapped inside her and she fought to push it down.

“There are sparks between you two,” Maeve observed.

“Ha! Sparks! Yeah, right.”

Maeve’s mouth curved into a wicked smile. “Definitely sparks.”

Thankfully another customer entered the store and they weren’t able to continue that ridiculous conversation.

The man who walked in glanced at them, then quickly away. The hood of his black sweatshirt covered his head and he kept his chin tucked inside the neckline. The sight reminded her of gang members, and a shiver ran through her. Then she rolled her eyes at her own paranoid fear. Someone coming into a sex shop who didn’t want to be recognized was nothing out of the ordinary.

Maeve approached him to ask if he needed any help, but he shook his head and, without meeting her eyes, turned away to inspect the shelves of books.

Maeve winked at Keara when she returned to the counter, now standing in front of it. “We’ll just let him look,” she whispered. “He seems embarrassed.” In a louder tone, she said, “I’ll be in my office for a few minutes if you can handle things here.”

“Sure.”

Keara kept an eye on the kid, who looked to be only about twenty years old, while she did some tidying behind the counter. He appeared to watch Maeve leave through the Staff Only door, then moved from one display to another in the store, keeping his face averted from Keara. Then without a purchase or even another word, he left the store.

Amused, she wondered what he’d been looking for and then lost his nerve.

More customers came in after him and she was grateful for the distraction that took her mind off both Shane and his annoyingly hostile attitude toward her, and disturbing thoughts about Maeve’s memory.

“I need a vibrator.”

Keara turned to the woman at the counter. “Of course. They’re right over here.”

“It has to be quiet,” the woman added, following Keara. “Very quiet. I have three teenage sons. They cannot hear it.”

Oookay. Keara had no idea which vibrator was the quietest and they spent an interesting ten minutes testing each one to find out. The woman finally made her selection, then left.

Maeve returned to help with a little rush of business and then they closed the shop for the day. “Tuesday night is my bridge night,” Maeve told her. “Would you like to come? Tonight is at Fiona’s home.”

Shane’s mom.

“Uh, no. That’s okay. I don’t play bridge.”

“You could just come for the company.” Maeve eyed her.

“I’ll be fine here,” Keara said with a smile.