Finding Our Hearts Read online

Page 2

“We’ve got all the time in the world, roomie.” She grinned, before standing up and fumbling inside a cupboard for a moment. When she turned back, holding a box of Butler’s chocolates, I knew there’d be no escape. Chocolate had always been the comfort food we’d stick to whenever we had to discuss something serious or tearful. I’d have to tell her the whole story about Peter or she’d never let me out of the kitchen. In a way, I felt bad that I hadn’t talked about him with my best friend in all this time, but at the time I’d wanted to forget and with taking care of my mum being my main focus, I’d let it go. It was high time I opened up.

  I reached for a white chocolate, popped it into my mouth and braced myself for our chat. She hadn’t studied psychology for nothing, after all. Maybe talking about it with a friend who was also a professional might help me see things differently—or at least I hoped it would. I was too young to turn into a total spinster, and becoming a nun was out of the question. I only needed someone to help me restore my faith in men again.

  Chapter 2

  David

  I woke up in a sweat from another nightmare. It was always the same scenery, the same people and the same gut-wrenching scenes I’d been seeing during the past couple of weeks. To say these nightmares terrified me was putting it mildly.

  I rolled on my side and stared at Michelle for a moment in the dim sunlight coming through a thin crack in the curtains. I was glad to know it was morning already, and that I wouldn’t have to go back to sleep and, possibly, have the same nightmare again. I contemplated waking her with a kiss, just so we could cuddle and I could erase the images from my mind, but then I reminded myself that unfortunately my girlfriend wasn’t the cuddling type. Even though I was a guy, I loved hugs and cuddles, be it on the couch while watching a movie or in bed after sex, but unfortunately Michelle didn’t. Waking her up now would only put her in a cranky mood, and after the nightmare I’d just had, I wasn’t in the state of mind to handle it.

  Kathy, one of my little sisters, and her fiancé Colin had come down from Sligo on their way to Dublin, from where they’d be taking a plane today to go to New York for their godson’s first birthday. We’d gone out all together last night, and I’d ended up crashing at Michelle’s place, since I’d had a pint too many. Even though Colin had offered to drive us all back, Michelle had insisted I went back to her apartment with her, as she’d reminded me that I hadn’t stayed overnight in a while—which was basically ever since the nightmares had started. Eventually I’d accepted her invitation, mainly because I didn’t feel comfortable talking about the nightmares with her and I had no other excuse for not wanting to spend the night at my girlfriend’s.

  I didn’t live that far away from the city center and driving home wouldn’t have been a big deal, but after our older brother had died in a car accident caused by a drunk driver, I’d sworn never to get behind the wheel unless I was totally sober—not that I ever drank that much, but still I didn’t want to run the risk. Our family had already gone through a lot during the past eighteen months, with my brother dying at twenty-seven and Kathy, who’d been in the car with him, ending up in a wheelchair for six months before she was healed by my brother—her guardian angel.

  Declan had been gone for more than a year and a half, and I still missed him every single day. Knowing he was still around, looking after us, and that he’d healed Kathy in more ways than any human being ever could didn’t help me fill the empty space he’d left in my life.

  I often wondered whether the nightmares that I’d been often having during the last couple of weeks were my older brother’s way of talking to me. I wished I understood the meaning of all of it, because most of the time it didn’t make sense. It was a cluster of images: car accidents, people crying and grieving over someone’s loss, blood, screams, more tears…

  Declan had shown himself to Kathy more than once since he’d died, but she’d never told me about him scaring the crap out of her, as he did in my dreams. Was my brother trying to get back at me for some of the pranks I’d played when he was alive? Well, if that were the reason, he had a sick sense of humor, and I wished he would show his pretty-boy face to me once so I could tell him a thing or two about what I thought.

  I sat upright and brushed my hand over my chin. Boy, I needed a good shave. My mustache and goatee that I liked keeping at a sexy-couple-of-days-old-stubble length definitely needed a trim.

  I got out of bed, and padded barefoot in my boxers into the en suite bathroom, closed the door behind me and leaned with my back against it.

  “What kind of sick game are you playing, Brother?” I asked, hoping Declan would hear me. A few months ago I would’ve thought it was insane, but after all that had happened to Kathy and the way Declan had communicated with me on Christmas Eve with that message on our living room window, I knew this was perfectly normal—at least for our family.

  As usual, though, I didn’t get any reply from him. The last time he’d shown himself to Kathy he’d told her he wouldn’t be allowed to come back again but that he would always be around, looking after her—after our family. Even so, I kept hoping he’d make an exception and would come talk to me for a moment.

  I’d envied Kathy for months since the day she told me Declan had been around after the accident. The last memory I had of my brother was patting his back in a guy hug and saying, “See ya in New York,” the night before the accident. Once he was back in America with Kathy, he’d promised he’d speak to a friend of his so I could get a job and leave Ireland to move to the coolest city in the world.

  My dreams were shattered in that car accident, together with Kathy’s and with all our lives. Everything changed after that day and here I was now, eighteen months later, still having nightmares and not quite ready to get over what I’d lost.

  “What are you trying to tell me?” I asked again, staring at the ceiling, as if hoping that some kind of answer would materialize out of thin air. “You know I’ve never been as smart as you—I need you to give me some kind of clue, ’cause I’m going crazy here while you play Pictionary inside my head.”

  I slid to the floor, ending in a soft thump when my butt hit the cold tiles. I took my head in my hands and pulled at the wavy strands that so needed a cut, until it hurt.

  I couldn’t do this. Hell, I didn’t understand how my little sister had managed to cope with the secret for so many months without going crazy. But then again, she’d actually seen him—he’d been there, right in front of her eyes and had told her things straight and without any riddles.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, and let out an annoyed grunt. I couldn’t go on like this. But hell, I missed my brother more than I dared to tell anyone. Only Kathy had seen me cry once, on New Year’s Day, when I’d woken up and seen her boyfriend sleeping in Declan’s bed. For a moment I’d thought it was actually my brother in that bed, and that the accident had only been a dream. Sometimes I wished I could just cry my eyes out and be done with it. Let it all out and get over it, simple as that. But it just wasn’t that simple; it never would be.

  A silent, salty tear rolled down my cheek and I angrily wiped it away with my palm. I wasn’t going to fall apart in my girlfriend’s bathroom. What kind of sissy would that make me? I’d played the part of the strong brother, the only brother my little sisters had left, and I wasn’t going to fall to pieces now. But, man, it was so hard sometimes, I didn’t think I’d be able to keep up the act much longer.

  A warm gust of air encircled me so suddenly I gasped in surprise. I closed my eyes, a sense of relaxation pervading my body like warm water flowing through me, and I remembered Kathy saying that whenever Declan touched her she’d feel heat and peace spread through her. A smile curled my lip. So he could hear me, after all.

  “David?” Michelle called from outside the bathroom door, and I gave a start. I inhaled deeply and held it in for a couple of seconds, steadying my heartbeat. I couldn’t let her see me this shaken up, even though I doubted she’d read it in my eyes. Still, I shouldn’t have agreed to st
ay the night; I should’ve gotten dressed and left when her eyes had started drooping.

  It was a mistake I wouldn’t make again—unless I wanted her to think I was crazy, which sometimes I thought I was. If it hadn’t been for the proof my brother had given me on Christmas Eve, I would have probably gone to see a good shrink and asked him to give me something strong—and I would’ve taken Kathy with me, too.

  But even in the state of despair I was in, I knew the dreams had a meaning. It was my brother’s way of warning me about something I still couldn’t understand, but I was sure that sooner or later he’d give me a clue, just like he had with Kathy.

  “David, are you in there?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, counted to three and stood up, my perfectly-rehearsed happy face back in place.

  “Yeah.” I opened the door, and smiled at her. When she smiled back, I knew my mask was working. Not that she’d ever tried to see behind it, though. We’d been together for a year, and she’d never touched the dead brother subject, nor had she ever offered to go to the cemetery with me. Declan had been gone six months when we’d met, so it wasn’t as if she’d been through it with me, but sometimes, knowing the way Colin had helped my sister through those dark months, I wished Michelle would’ve been half as supportive. Of course she’d been sorry when I’d told her my brother had died only months before we met, but she’d never asked about him, or about how I was feeling. Especially since her job kept her so busy she barely had time to hang out with me anymore.

  Maybe I just needed to be a man and get over it on my own; I just wished every once in a while she would show a little more interest in how I was coping with it. If she really loved me, like Colin loved Kathy, she would be able to see through me, see the fake smiles I’d been giving her lately, and realize I wasn’t over it at all.

  I took her hand and pulled her to me, dipping my head to kiss her softly. “Sorry. Did I wake you?” I whispered against her lips, and she wrapped her arms around my neck.

  “You’re forgiven, but only if you stay a little longer.” She smirked, and I forced the memory of the dream back into the recesses of my mind. I was a guy; I wasn’t going to say no to her because of some stupid dream haunting me. I pulled her flush to me.

  “It depends on what you had in mind,” I said in a husky tone, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively.

  Michelle giggled, standing on her tiptoes to whisper in my ear, “I’ll give you a clue: it involves my bed and no clothes.”

  “I’m in.” I pulled her off her feet and carried her back to her bed while she laughed all the while.

  I dropped her onto the mattress and she smirked at me. Something inside my stomach twisted, but not in a good way.

  This doesn’t feel right.

  I frowned. Where had that come from? After the awful nightmare I’d just had, the last thing I needed was introspection or any of that new-age crap. If I left now Michelle would become suspicious, and I didn’t want to start a fight.

  Yet another fight.

  I shook my head, needing that stupid voice to stop. It couldn’t be my brother, could it? Maybe I was just hung-over. Michelle frowned when she saw me shaking my head at her.

  “What’s wrong, Davie?”

  Davie? Since when had she adopted such a stupid nickname for me? Nobody had ever called me Davie, not even when I was a child.

  She sat upright and stared at me from underneath her long lashes, those sexy lashes she’d batted seductively at me the first time I’d met her at O’Connell’s a year ago, and that had made me fall for her. Now, as I stared at her wearing only a skimpy nightgown, I didn’t feel the same surge of passion and excitement I would have felt only a few weeks—okay, make it months ago.

  I cleared my throat as the room closed in on me.

  “Actually, I think I’d better go.” I croaked, scanning the room to find my clothes. When I found them on the armchair next to the door, I reached for them and pulled on my jeans.

  Michelle jumped out of bed. “Did I say something wrong?”

  It’s actually what you didn’t say, I thought, but refrained from saying it out loud. I shook my head instead and grabbed my T-shirt. She reached out and touched my bare arm. I shivered at the contact. What was happening here?

  “I’ve just remembered I have to give some stuff to Kathy before she leaves for the airport. I’ll still manage to catch her if I go now.” I shrugged my T-shirt on, checked my jeans pocket for my keys and wallet, and gave her one last look before I left. She had one eyebrow raised in question, but her lips were set in a thin line. She was either mad or disappointed—I wasn’t really sure which. I still had trouble understanding Michelle at times. Maybe I just didn’t know how women’s minds worked—not just Michelle’s.

  I felt like a jerk leaving like that, with a stupid excuse I was pretty sure she didn’t buy, so I bent down and kissed her cheek.

  “I’m sorry I can’t stay,” I said, and my stomach churned at the lie. I wasn’t sorry at all. I hated lying to my girlfriend. She didn’t deserve this behavior, but I couldn’t help it; I couldn’t sleep with her now when my mind was somewhere else.

  She shrugged an “okay,” and I spun on my heels and left, a heavy weight settling in my stomach on the way out.

  Chapter 3

  Claire

  A week after my moving in, Ciara insisted on dragging me out to enjoy a bit of Galway nightlife. I tried telling her I would rather get comfortable in my pyjamas and lose myself in a book, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

  “No housemate of mine is going to spend a Saturday night like an old spinster,” she’d said, as she’d pushed her way into my wardrobe, rummaging for “something decent to wear”, as she’d put it.

  As we walked toward the Latin Quarter, where all the fun was, I questioned her idea of lending me her brand new sandals. I looked at her, walking next to me completely at ease on five-inch wedges, and wondered if I’d be able to reach the pub without falling face-down or dislocating an ankle. I’d always been comfortable in ballerina flats or sneakers, and even when I did wear heels, thanks to my height I never really needed to go higher than a couple of inches. As I wobbled on Ciara’s four-inch stilettos, I wished I’d just worn a pair of flip-flops instead. We’d be taking a taxi back later, but Ciara reckoned we should save the fare into town and drink it instead. I’d reluctantly agreed only because I had to be extremely careful with every cent I spent, at least until I started my job.

  We reached the pub where Ciara’s boyfriend, Aidan, was waiting with a bunch of friends. He kissed her on the lips and gave her a quick hug, before turning to me with a smile. He’d been around a few times since I moved in, so we’d already met. He was a nice guy, with short dark hair and hazel eyes, broad shoulders and a contagious grin. He was fun to be around; the first time he’d stayed for dinner we’d had a good laugh, and I felt at ease around him—even though he was a man, and I’d been having a hard time feeling at ease around men lately.

  The awkwardness started after the first time he’d stayed overnight. Ciara wasn’t the quietest person in bed, and I’d had to avoid bumping into him after that sleepover, since I was sure that my pale, freckled skin would give away my embarrassment. Now though, as he stood only a few feet from me and talked to me as if I hadn’t heard what he and Ciara had done the previous night, I realized I didn’t care. After all, I was almost twenty-four; I couldn’t act like a prude just because I was sure to remain single for the rest of my life. They loved each other; I could tell from the way Ciara turned all dreamy-eyed whenever she talked about him, and from the way he’d kissed and hugged her only a minute ago, as if he hadn’t seen her in months. So what if they couldn’t keep their hands off each other? Maybe I was simply jealous because I’d never felt like that with anyone before. I’d only had one boyfriend, and he, well… he’d been so rough that I’d wanted to scream all right—but from pain, not pleasure.

  Aidan introduced me to his friends and their girlfriends, informing them I’d just moved fr
om Tralee. They all waved and welcomed me to Galway, and I was starting to think going out had been a good idea. I needed to meet new people, build a circle of friends and start a new life. The fact that I’d always been too shy and never really had more than a friend or two didn’t mean that I couldn’t start changing things now. I wanted to be social and easy-going like Ciara was; I didn’t want to be the invisible girl anymore.

  We sat at a round table, listening to a local rock band that had just started playing, and I enjoyed the noisy atmosphere that I was sure was going to take me away from my sad thoughts, if only for a couple of hours. In the crowded, loud pub, I didn’t feel alone and depressed. I was surrounded by happy, chatty people, and the smell of beer and French fries. For one night, I’d be the happy, carefree girl I’d been in college. All the bad thoughts would have to wait until tomorrow.

  An hour later I excused myself to go to the ladies’, and slowly made my way through the crowd standing in front of the small stage, swaying to the music. I had almost reached the door when a guy stumbled and collided against me, causing me to lose my balance. I would’ve surely face-planted into the hard wooden floor if a set of arms and a firm chest hadn’t saved me. A firm chest that belonged to a handsome guy with silver-blue eyes and tousled dark blond hair. My face burned with embarrassment.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, a light frown appearing on his face. I blinked and shut my mouth. I probably looked like a cod, but he was so gorgeous I couldn’t help my jaw from dropping.

  He was tall; even with my five-feet-eight and my—well, Ciara’s—heels, he still had at least another couple of inches on me. A citrusy, masculine scent of cologne hit my nostrils and I couldn’t help breathing it in, feeling slightly dizzy at my proximity to this striking guy. His hands were still on my upper arms, and I was thankful for that.