Kate Hoffmann - Kellan

Gelsey grabbed half the sandwich and bit into it, then groaned softly. “Oh, this is lovely. Are there any fries?”

Fries. Though he could detect a hint of an English accent in her speech, she sounded more like Nan and Jordan than any Brit he knew. But there was something else there. Occasionally, he caught her talking to herself in French or Spanish. “No chips, just crisps.”

She looked at the bag. “Those are chips,” she said.

“Ah, another little clue,” Kellan said. “You reveal yourself a bit more every day. If you call crisps chips and chips fries, then you’ve spent time in the States.”

“Very astute, Sherlock Holmes,” she said. “My mother is American.”

He leaned back and watched her eat, pondering the information she’d just revealed. It was the first real clue he had to who she was. “What about your father?”

“British,” she said. “Interrogation over.” She took a huge bite of her sandwich, then grinned at him.

Kellan chuckled at the funny face she made. For someone so slender, she certainly enjoyed a good meal now and then. She gobbled down her first corned-beef sandwich in just a few bites and then started on the second.

“Where do you come from?” Kellan asked.

She blinked as she looked at him, continuing to chew. “Come from?”

“You heard me. I don’t get the accent. It’s not Irish, I know that. It’s not entirely American, either, or English. So what is it?”

She shrugged. “Lots of different things. A mash-up, really.”

“Of what?” Kellan could see that she didn’t want to reveal any more. But the woman was living in his house, eating food that he’d provided for her, socializing with his family. The least she could do was fill him in on a few details.

“Does it really make a difference?” she asked, watching him suspiciously.

“I’m just curious.”

Her chin tilted up in defiance as she swallowed. “I spoke French as a child.”

“You don’t want me to know anything about you, do you? Why? What are you trying to hide? There’s no reason. After a week together, we know each other about as intimately as we can.”

She reached for a crisp and nibbled at it, considering her answer silently. “Can’t we just leave it at that? We’re both getting what we want out of this, so-”

“What I want? You’re the one who crawled into bed with me that first night. I didn’t invite you.” Kellan cursed beneath his breath. “You know they’re talking about you all around town. Markus Finn wants to capitalize on all this silly mermaid stuff. He thinks you could be like Ballykirk’s very own Blarney Stone.”

A gasp burst from her lips and then a giggle. Before long, she was laughing so hard, she had to set her sandwich down. “Really? But I’m not a mermaid.” When she regained her composure, she drew a ragged breath and nodded. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh.”

“The tourists wouldn’t care,” Kellan said. “They come to Ireland because of all the magic.”

“So, what would I do?”

“He and the tourism committee are hoping you’ll stay and maybe buy Maeve’s shop from her. She’s had it for sale for a few years now.”

Gelsey crumpled the empty wrapper from her sandwich, then pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. “I-I really don’t know what my plans are,” she said. “I’m not sure I could make a commitment like that right now.”

“A commitment to Ballykirk or a commitment to me? You can tell me the truth.”

“If I tell you the truth, you’ll want me to leave,” she countered. Gelsey raked her hands through her wavy hair, sighing softly as she tipped her head back. “I just need to have a moment to myself, a chance to take a breath without someone expecting something from me.”

“Are you married?” Kellan asked.

“No!” Gelsey looked surprised. “No, there’s no one. Not anymore.”

“But there was?”

“It’s over. Completely over. I swear to you.”

A long silence grew between them. Gelsey reached out and took his hand, carefully lacing her fingers through his. “What difference does it make who we were?” she asked. “We began when you found me on the beach.”

Kellan’s gaze fell to her mouth, and without a second thought, he slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her into a long and languid kiss. She was right. He didn’t care about anything beyond what they’d shared together. And though he knew she wasn’t an amnesiac or a mermaid, that didn’t matter, either. She was here with him now and that’s all he cared about.

THE HILLS WERE SHROUDED in a dense mist as Gelsey navigated the battered Fiat toward Winterhill. She’d spent her last four or five Christmases skiing, surrounded by snow and plenty of twinkly lights. It was a bit odd to be staring out at fog.

Kellan had invited her to accompany him to Cork to pick up a set of plans he’d been waiting for and do a bit of Christmas shopping, but Gelsey had decided to take the morning for herself.

Everything was moving so fast in Ballykirk. Her feelings for Kellan were growing deeper with each day and night they spent together. And though he still questioned her about her past, he seemed to take her evasive answers with less frustration. So, had the time come to just be honest with him?

Their nights in bed were proof of his desire and their easygoing way with each other outside the bedroom marked a growing trust and friendship. But passion and friendship didn’t necessarily add up to a future together. Gelsey had been through enough “relationships” to know how easily they fractured. And how quickly she grew bored.

She slowed the car as it neared a curve, sighing softly. How nice it would be to believe in love. To know that there was a man out there who could ensure complete happiness for the rest of her life. She’d been chasing that dream her entire life, but had never really believed it would come true.

At least she could make a real life for herself, a life with a job and a place to live, important things to occupy her day.

She’d stopped at the shop that morning, just to chat with Maeve about her job responsibilities. Though Gelsey couldn’t offer any retail experience, she could offer enthusiasm and she saw incredible potential in the business that Maeve had started. When Maeve mentioned she was interested in selling the shop, the foundation of a new life had begun to take shape in her mind.

Why not make a life in Ballykirk? She could live at Winterhill and turn the shop into a thriving business. There was a huge market for unusual boutique skin-care products, especially those made of natural ingredients. She knew women who paid thousands of dollars for a small jar of sheep placenta.

But until her problems in Italy were solved, until she faced the consequences of what she’d done, there could be no future for her in Ballykirk and no future with Kellan. The thought of jail, for something as silly as a punch in the face, was almost more than she could bear. She wasn’t a criminal, but she’d done something that had broken the law.

Six months had passed and it still loomed over her like a big black cloud, obscuring any sunshine or hope she had. Antonio had been there and up until their fight, had promised to testify to what had happened. But now, she wasn’t sure he’d hold up his end of the bargain.

The stone pillars flanking the driveway at Winterhill appeared out of the fog. A feeling of relief washed over her at the sight of the old stone house. This was the only home she’d ever really known. Every summer, she’d arrived still dressed in her school uniform, ready to throw aside the rules and regulations for a summer full of fantasies.