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don t wait up.
Love,
Da
He let out a heavy breath. Why was he so tense? Must be the
wind. It always made houses sound like they were alive when it
blew this hard. Kind of creepy, really. A sudden burst of air, a
swirl of leaves and a thud reached out from behind him, making
him shiver again. He turned to see Ciaran s sad face in the
doorway, his hair a flurry of blond locks. He went to him,
holding up the note in his hand.  Your da is just in town. I m
sure he ll be back shortly.
Ciaran nodded.
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 You okay? An eerie howl rustled the eaves of the house. He
shuddered, not from the cold this time, and waited for Ciaran to
answer him.
 No. Shannon, will you stay with me? Ciaran s pleading eyes
met his.
His heart ached. Reaching out, he drew a still-blanketed
Ciaran close.  Uh, my ma, at least, might get worried if I don t get
home soon. How he dreaded going home, but his mother would
have expected him home already.
The whistle of another gust rushed through the empty rooms.
A loud clap broke through the whistle and air currents snaked
over the young men.
Ciaran startled and trembled.  What was that? Fear laced his
shaky voice.
He gulped to calm his nerves.  I-I think a window must have
blown open, that s all. Fear pricked at him, but he wanted to
stay calm for his lover.  Let s go check it out, okay?
Ciaran grudgingly released him, dropped the blanket and
groped to take Shannon s hand.
Once he felt Ciaran in his grasp, he towed him toward the
direction of the sound they heard. Walking cautiously toward Mr.
O Kelly s bedroom, a cool draft brushed against his skin. It
strengthened the closer he came to the room. When he reached
it, he peered inside the doorway.
The window was wide open. A rush of air made his hair
flutter as another gust picked up. He turned to Ciaran.
Ciaran s eyes were shut tight.
 Your da s window is open, see? Just like I said.
Ciaran s eyes opened and focused on him with dread.  Y-you
don t think a ghost could have opened it, do you, Shannon?
 What? Why on Earth would you say something like that? It s
obviously the bloody wind.
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A Summer Without Rain
Ciaran flushed with embarrassment and dropped his gaze to
the floor. Shrugging, he made a weak attempt at a smile.  I don t
know. It s just bit strange around here with Ma gone. Guess I m
imagining things.
A loud crack pierced the wind, making both of them jump.
Sharp pain raced up from his hand. Ciaran was crushing it.
 Ah! You re hurting me. He wriggled out of his grasp and
rushed to the window. It was loosened from its runners and
dangled free in its frame. He reached around, slammed it shut
and slid the locks to be sure it was secured.
Ciaran s arms wrapped tight around his chest and he stared
with wide eyes while Shannon fixed the window.
He rubbed his hands together while he went back to his
lover.
Ciaran s attention focused on him.  S-so the window just
broke? Like that? he asked as if he wouldn t believe his answer
anyway.
He surrounded Ciaran with his arms.  Yes, it just broke. It s
an old house with old windows. We haven t had wind like this in
a long time. I m sure you re da would have fixed it if he d known
it was about to break. He ran his fingers up Ciaran s back and
rested his hand on his soft hair.
 Please stay with me, Shannon, please. Ciaran s voice was a
soft whimper.
He sighed. There was no way he could leave now. Not with
how frightened Ciaran was and the strange comment he made
about a ghost.  Okay, I ll stay. He broke his hold on him and
returned to the table. As he put down the note, still clutched in
his fingers, he saw him setting up blankets in front of the hearth.
 What are you doing?
Flashing a mischievous grin, Ciaran halted his primping of
blankets.  I thought we could have a fire and maybe lie down
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while we wait. Triumph filled his voice.
 A fire, aye? Well, it s definitely cold enough for one. He
took note of his wide grin.  Don t get any bloody ideas now. Your
da will probably be home soon. He took slow, steady steps with
his hands wrapped behind his back to where Ciaran s nest of
blankets sprawled over the plank floor.
Ciaran fluffed one of the pillows.  Don t you trust me? He
looked up as Shannon crouched down in front of him.
 No. He flinched as Ciaran gave him a playful punch in the
shoulder.  Ow. He reached his hand up to rub the area.
 You deserved it. Ciaran grinned in satisfaction.  So do you
want to make the fire, or shall I?
 I ll do it. He set about finding the things he needed to build
the fire. Once the fire started, he sat back, gazing at his
handiwork in approval. He crossed his legs on the arranged
blankets.
Ciaran sat beside him.
The warmth from the fire brushed along his cheek, leaving a
pinkish glow on it. He sighed.  You know, the scariest thing in
this house right now is you. Talking about ghosts and fixing
blankets for us in front of a fire. His eyes locked on Ciaran s.
 Funny, I never knew this side of you before. His gaze roamed
his face and rested on his full lips.
 Do you like it? Seduction threaded through Ciaran s voice.
He leaned in, supported on one arm.
 Um, yeah. He wanted so badly to kiss him. But should he?
Shoving Shannon backward with the force of his body, Ciaran
drove him into the blankets. His kiss was urgent with need as he
opened his lips to penetrate his mouth with his tongue. He
shimmied on top of him. His hands clawed at the bottom of
Shannon s shirt, trying to pry it from its constraints. He ground
his hips downward as if to crush him against the floor.
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He melted into Ciaran s ravenous kiss. Losing himself and his
whereabouts for a moment, he surrendered to the sweet taste
and touch of his beautiful lover.
Bloody hell, we re in Ciaran s home. Mr. O Kelly could come
through that door at any moment. Mumbling into the kiss, he
shoved Ciaran upward.
Ciaran s stunning face hovered above Shannon s and his hips
pressed against him.
He panted.  We can t do this here. What if your da comes
home?
With his brows tensing, Ciaran mumbled something
incoherent and rolled onto his back.
 What did you say? He sat up and turned to look at him.
Ciaran sent a blank stare to the ceiling, holding his arms bent
over his chest.  I said, it bloody well figures. Irritation riddled
his words.
The eaves shook and howled with a strong gust. A shrill noise [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]