What were they talking about again? Oh, yes. ‘What’s wrong with them?’
‘They have flowers on them.’
Keelin nodded and spoke slowly. ‘Y-e-s, I’m a girl.’
His head rose, toffee eyes sparkling again as his voice dropped to a more intimate tone. ‘Yeah, I got that.’
Her cheeks warmed.
‘It’s just that wellingtons normally come in green or black.’
‘Or navy?’ She batted her eyelashes.
Garrett nodded slowly. ‘Sometimes in navy.’
There was a brief silence. While Keelin stared into his eyes and momentarily forgot how to think. She could feel her pulse beating erratically, could hear her heart thudding against the wall of her chest. Aw, c’mon! She was getting turned on by a conversation about wellington boots now? How sad did that make her?
‘You really need to get off this island more, you know that, right?’
‘Explore the world of possibilities available to wellington wearers worldwide?’
‘Exactly. Broaden your horizons some.’
He stepped a little closer, lowering his head to grumble. ‘You see, I would, but I’m a boy. We happen to like green, black or navy. It’s much more practical.’
Keelin swallowed convulsively.
‘So—’he smiled a slow, sensual smile ‘—you ready to walk a little more? Now that we know where we stand on the wellingtons issue?’
‘You’re not going to let me walk on my own, are you?’ She somehow knew that instinctively.
Garrett shook his head. ‘Nope.’
Damnable chivalry! Whose idea was that in the modern era? Women like Keelin really weren’t used to being treated this way!
Allowing herself just a second more of up-close study, she then forced herself to look away, sighing dramatically. ‘Well, lead on, then, if you must. But if we get near anything that remotely resembles a shallow grave, I warn you—I’ve taken classes in self-defence.’
There was another low, rumbled chuckle of laughter beside her as they fell into step along the narrow laneway. ‘You’ve been in the city too long.’
‘What makes you so sure I’m from the city?’
‘It’s written all over you. You look—’ his face turned to study her profile ‘—expensive.’
Keelin tilted her head his way as she walked. ‘Now, Garrett, did you just go calling me high maintenance?’
His mouth quirked yet again. ‘Are you telling me you’re not?’
If only he knew. ‘If you knew me better you’d know I’m one of the least high-maintenance women on the planet. But, please, feel free to jump to conclusions.’
‘That’s why you’re enjoying being on the island so much already, I take it?’
No, that wasn’t why she wasn’t enjoying the island.
She focused her gaze forwards, following the gentle sweep of the narrow stone-wall-lined laneway she was walking along, to where it had branched out in two different directions. It could almost have been metaphor, but then every path taken had a set of choices, right? She sighed, and a confession rolled off her reluctant tongue.
‘It’s not the island’s fault. I just get a little tense when I’m nervous.’
‘And I’m making you nervous, am I?’
She glanced his way again with a small, mischievous smile. ‘Now who’s full of themself?’
He smiled a glorious, full, dimpled smile in return and Keelin found herself laughing.
Garrett leaned his head a little closer. ‘That’s better. See, now you look less high maintenance.’
She was still smiling in amusement as his focus went back to his dogs, his upper lip flattening briefly against straight white teeth as he whistled them back into closer proximity.
‘Do you flirt with every woman who gets lost on this island, then?’
When he glanced at her, his warm eyes were so intense she almost caught her breath. ‘Maybe you just bring that out in me.’
Keelin rolled her eyes, which was rewarded with another low chuckle of laughter.
Both looking up the laneway, they fell into an almost companionable silence for a while before his voice sounded again. ‘So why are you nervous?’
Ah, now there was a question. ‘Let’s just say I’m still not entirely sure what I’m doing here.’
‘You know someone at Inishmore?’
‘No. Not yet.’
They walked another couple of steps. ‘Is someone expecting you?’
‘I’d think it’s safe to say no one is, no.’
Out of her peripheral vision she saw him nod, as if he was confirming something he already knew. ‘So, are you the bearer of bad news, then?’
Even though she knew he was just seeking a logical explanation for her nervousness, Keelin faltered. Tilting her head back slightly, she looked up at the rapidly clearing blue skies above her, her voice low. ‘Sort of.’
Garrett leaned forwards and looked down at her upturned face. And he smiled an encouraging smile when she looked at him. ‘No one likes to be the bearer of bad news. It’s no wonder you’re nervous.’
Keelin stared, transfixed as he smiled down at her. Then his hand reached up again, cupping her elbow briefly, squeezing in reassurance. ‘They’re not bad people. They won’t shoot the messenger.’
‘That really depends on what the messenger tells them, doesn’t it?’
A dark brow quirked. ‘Is it the messenger’s fault?’
‘No.’ The whispered word came out on a small sigh as a wave of emotion swept over her. She really had thought she was better prepared for this. But she was out on a limb further than she’d ever been. And it was terrifying. When she had told him she still wasn’t sure what she was doing here, it hadn’t been entirely a lie. Not entirely.
She had reasoned with herself that she could handle it if she was turned away. If she was rejected. But there was still a part of her that would hurt deeply if she was. If she didn’t find out what it was she was looking for.
It would be pain on top of anguish and grief that she was barely holding together as it was. Maybe she should just have let it be. Left the past in the past and got on with building her future, instead of standing beside a complete stranger with a confession on the tip of her tongue.
The large hand on her elbow exerted a little pressure, bringing her out of her sorrowful reverie, so that she was forced to look up again.
Garrett smiled a slow, soft smile and the depth of warmth that emanated from it brought an equal warmth to her chest in reply that was surprisingly soothing.
She stared at him with wide, curious eyes. She’d just never met a man quite like him before. And she couldn’t even put it down to the romance of rolling mists and a grand entrance into her line of vision. There was just something about him, something that held her attention, fascinated her more than she’d ever been fascinated before.
He was compelling. Yes. Compelling was a good word.
Toffee eyes roamed over her face and his hand dropped from her arm. ‘Dermot Kincaid is a good man. He’ll listen to what you have to say, whatever it might be.’
Keelin’s eyes widened. ‘You know him?’
Garrett’s