back as the salty wind tried to pull it free of her ponytail.
Stella grinned. “I did, didn’t I?”
“I don’t think Damian has ever had that happen, ” Julie said. “In fact, I think he’s having a lot of firsts recently.”
“Good. ” Kat bent and picked a daffodil. “It will keep him on his toes.”
“So? ” Stella folded her arms over chest. “Hate or tolerate? Which is it?”
“Nothing is firm yet. ” Julie stared out towards the horizon and Atlantic Ocean. “I told him so last night. We’re taking it slow.”
“Yeah. ” Kat let out a tragic sigh, “We noticed you came back from the hall and didn’t look kissed.”
Julie blushed.
“I bet you wanted to be kissed, ” Kat teased. “In lots of places.”
Julie cleared her throat. “Yes. And he was willing to oblige if you must know, but I told him we should wait.”
“How did that go? ” Stella asked.
“I think he was stunned, really.”
“Gorgeous guy like that who gets all the babes with a nod of his head? ” Kat laughed. “Of course he was.”
Julie scowled. “Then it’s good for him.”
“Hey, Julie, ” Stella finally said. “Look, he’s an ass, but he’s an ass who seems to only have eyes for you. There’s nothing too terrible about him.”
Julie smiled. “Just man pain.”
Kat frowned. “What?”
“It’s what Fion claimed. Damian is suffering from the idiocy that comes from man pain.”
“Fion, ” Kat sighed. “So dreamy. Why do you have to go for dark and broody?”
“I don’t know, ” Julie said honestly. But she did in a big way. In a way she could never come back from. Now, she just had to pray that Damian was truly ready to take the leap.
***
Damian eyed his grandmother as they hiked over the top of a hill, heading for the cliffs that overlooked the Atlantic. It was tempting to go in with hell and fury but that would be pointless. Margaret had suffered enough and he knew for a fact she’d done what she’d done because she’d been at wit’s end.
Margaret was never cruel. It wasn’t in her nature.
“What do I now? ” he asked softly.
Margaret kept her gaze toward the horizon, clapping occasionally to encourage the dogs. At last she replied, “Do, my boy? You know.”
He nearly growled. “I’m still me, Margaret.”
She gave him a withering stare. “ Grandmother, my boy and don’t you forget it. And of course you’re you. Who else would you be?”
He fought a smile. Truthfully, he was glad she wished to retain that personal appellation. “Yes, Grandmother. ”
They walked again in silence, climbing the ladder built over one of the hundreds of stone walls that graced Ireland’s fields.
Damian drew in a crisp breath and tried again. “How do I deal with this?”
“Long walks and gin.”
“That’s how you deal with it. Gin did my father no good.”
She stopped. “A valid point. But Damian, I can’t tell you what to do. Not in this. Do you love her?”
Damian wrenched his gaze away from Margaret’s merciless stare. “Yes.”
“Do you want to let her go?”