I smile broadly at his obvious affection for his parents.
He turns to me and holds his hand toward me. “This is Emmaline,” he announces proudly.
“Hello.” I smile nervously as their attention turns to me. I feel my cheeks heat in embarrassment.
“Ahh.” His father pulls me into an embrace. “Lovely to meet you, lass.”
His mother stands back and smiles softly, and then comes over to me and grabs my face between her two hands.
Her eyes are wise and caring. “You are she,” she whispers with wonder.
Huh? What does that mean? Gosh, they talk in riddles.
“You are she,” she whispers again.
My eyes glance to Alastar while his eyes linger lovingly on my face. “Aye, Momma. This is she.”
Chapter 22
She places both of her hands onto her chest. “Emmaline, I am so happy you finally came. We have been waiting for you.”
I smile stupidly at Alastar and he throws me a cheeky wink. We follow them through the darkness and back up the path that leads us into the farmhouse. The house is two stories and old—exactly what I would imagine a farmhouse in Ireland to look like. My eyes look around at the beautiful surroundings. It’s warm with an open fire and country style furnishings. The smell of something amazing cooking fills the room. The atmosphere is loving and inviting. Alastar squeezes my hand in reassurance and I squeeze it back.
“Let me show you up to your room, Emmaline,” his mother says gently.
“Thank you.” I smile. She’s so nice. She’s shorter than me, with curly grey hair that sits just below her collar. Her face is gentle and wise. She’s curvy and big breasted like me. I like her already. She grabs my hand and pulls me up the stairs, along the landing with Alastar following us with our suitcases.
“Do you want to stay with Alastar in his room?” she asks innocently.
Oh… crap. I do but I want to pretend to be pure. Hmm, trick question time.
“Aye, Momma, she’s staying with me.” Alastar interrupts from behind us.
She smiles cheekily at him over her shoulder. “She might not want to stay with you, son.”
“She does,” he replies dryly.
Her mischievous eyes dance with delight as they turn to me.
“Umm.” I glance at Alastar. What am I supposed to say in this situation? I don’t want her to know we are bonking like rabbits every chance we get. “I will stay where you want me to stay, Mrs O’Shea,” I answer quietly. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
She smiles warmly. “What a lovely answer, but I’m only teasing. You can stay with Alastar. He won’t want to be away from you for a moment, and please, call me Connie.”
I smile bashfully. Was that a test? Did I pass? Truth be known, I would have made him sneak into my room as soon as the lights went out, anyway. She opens the door to the room at the end of the hallway. It’s large with a multicolored bedspread and lampshades on the side tables next that sit next to the bed.
“This is Alastar’s room,” she announces proudly.
I smile at her, and then him. It’s blatantly obvious she adores her son. “It’s lovely, thank you.” Alastar walks past me and into the room with our ridiculously expensive matching suitcases. He bought me new luggage through the week to match his. Even my makeup case is matching. His neat fetish is very real.
“Freshen up and I will see you both downstairs.” She smiles warmly. She wraps her arms around Alastar and holds him close. “Oh, I have missed you, son.”
“Me, too, momma. I’m home now.” He smiles as she puts her head on his chest and I watch them embrace for a moment.
Sadness sweeps over me. What must it be like to have a child move away from home? For the first time since I got back with Alastar, I miss my mum. She leaves the room and then Alastar smiles and takes me in his arms. “Thank you,” he whispers.
“What for?”
His eyes hold mine. “For coming home with me. It means a lot to my parents.”
I smile. “It means a lot to me, too.”
He kisses me gently on the lips. “And me.”
I pull back to look at him. “I wish you could meet my mum and dad.”
“I will,” he replies.
I stand for a moment as my eyes search his.
“I promise,” he whispers as he kisses me again and pulls out of my arms and flops onto the bed.
I smile. I like that he promised to meet my parents. Maybe we really are going to plan a future. “What are you doing? We are going straight downstairs, aren’t we?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, we need to christen this bed.” He pats it hard three times. “I have never had sex in my parents’ house. It’s been on my bucket list for forever.” He widens his eyes in excitement.
I stare at him in horror. “You never had sex at your parents’ house?” I frown.
“Nope.”
“Why not?”