Eoghanan must have felt the same building pressure and the need to get a grip on it before continuing the rest of the journey into Edinburgh as I had, for when we returned to the car after my abrupt stop, he made a pointed effort to engage in conversation the rest of the way. At least while we listened and responded to one another, our minds weren’t left to daydream about ripping each other’s clothes off. Not that he would’ve acted on it anyway. He came across as far too old-fashioned to do so.
We even managed to keep the conversation going throughout dinner, though it consisted of mainly pointless jabber. We discussed my work a lot, Scotland, the inn, Morna and Jerry, but nothing overly personal. It was as if there lay some unspoken understanding between us that anything personal that might evoke emotion would put us in that place again—the state of desire that would build the tension that lay ever present between us, and it frightened us both. Though he’d said nothing of the sort, and it seemed hard to believe by looking at him, I got the feeling that perhaps he was just as ‘out of the game’ as I was. Just as unfamiliar with what was expected on a date, just as silently eager for a human connection.
When we’d finished eating and our bill paid, a strained silence fell over us once again, but this time I made no effort to end it, exhausted from hours of forced conversation. I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed, only because I knew this date wasn’t a fair representation of how we could be together. Though we’d not spoken too much, we’d only known each other a few days after all, conversation flowed more naturally with him than with anyone I had ever met before. He scared me, or more accurately, the way he made me feel scared me, and I’d allowed my fear to dictate our conversation. I expected he’d done the same, and we rode most of the way back to the inn mutually, but silently, feeling like we’d let the other, not to mention ourselves, down.
Finally, less than a mile away from the inn, Eoghanan spoke, reaching over to squeeze my hand as he did so. “That was rotten, lass. I doona wish to discuss the weather, nor the countryside with ye. ’Tis no why I asked ye to come here, no to speak to ye as I would a stranger. I know that I havena known ye but a few days, but it doesna feel that way. No to me. I doona believe it does to ye either. I wish to know everything about ye, about what ye did as a child, about yer family. I want ye to tell me what ye want out of yer life and for wee Cooper’s, and I wish to tell ye about meself as well. I want to speak to ye about things that matter, but I canna do that just yet.”
“Why not?” It was the only thing I could force myself to say in response to him. He gave the perfect speech—exactly what every woman wants to hear—that a man wanted to actually learn more about you…by means of communication. Something that every man I’d ever known until now found very challenging.
I don’t think I would’ve believed such an exclamation from just anyone, but I knew that he told the truth. He was different; I could tell that from the first moment I saw him. He didn’t play games, didn’t pretend to be someone he wasn’t.
It took him a moment to answer. I could sense his hesitation in the way he gripped my hand. He kept squeezing it, releasing it, squeezing it again, all the while running his thumb back and forth over the top of my hand.
“Because…” he exhaled loudly, and I slipped my thumb from underneath his hand, bringing it around to stroke his hand to comfort him. My mommy-gene, my inherent need to soothe, coming through once again.
“Lass, if ye told me those things just now, all of the important details about ye, I wouldna hear them. I can think of nothing other than what yer hair would feel like if I ran my fingers through it, how yer lips would feel against me own. So please, continue to speak to me about the weather and yer boss, Mr. Perdie, but remember that I do wish to hear everything else. I just canna hear it right now. No when I’m so bewitched by ye.”
I replayed his words in my head over and over. Each time they sounded more swoon-worthy than the last. My heart beat in quick time, and I had to hold my breath because I knew it would come out shaky. I said nothing, only slowly pressed down on the brake and pulled the car to the side of the road.