He called Fiona “Fee”.
That was sweet.
It was also sad.
Her throat blocked and she decided the best she could do was nod.
Which she did.
At the hamburger patty.
Then she set it aside and grabbed more meat.
“The book’s okay,” Jason went on as he went back to strumming. “But Elle’s better at teaching me. I looked at the book last night and –”
Strange vibes started emanating from Prentice and Isabella thought it unfortunate her hands were filled with meat because she really needed to fist them.
Prentice interrupted his son, “You had the guitar last night?”
“Aye,” Jason answered distractedly, concentrating on his finger work. “We started last night. Elle showed me more when I got home from school.”
Jason hadn’t finished speaking when Isabella felt Prentice’s hand at the small of her back and his lips at her ear.
“Put the mince down, Elle,” he ordered in a whisper.
Oh dear.
She licked her lips and then, screwing up her courage, she looked at him. His face was carefully blank. She didn’t think this was a good sign.
“Okay,” she whispered back, dropped the meat, went to the sink, washed her hands and was still toweling them off (slowly) when Prentice closed in.
He pulled the towel from her hands, tossed it aside and, hands to her hips, he part guided, part shoved her into his study where he closed the doors behind them.
She turned and decided to do what she could to defuse the situation.
Which meant apologize and quick.
“Prentice, I –”
He cut her off, “You call me Pren.”
She blinked, confused at what he said and also confused at his voice which was thick to the point of being hoarse.
It hit her he was holding back emotion.
Her heart broke and she felt her eyes sting.
“Pren,” she whispered.
“You’re a fucking miracle worker.”
Her body locked, all except her eyes which she blinked again.
“What?” she breathed.
“Jace hasn’t touched that guitar, not once since his Mum got sick, without him having one of his nightmares. Last night, you worked with him on it and he didn’t have a nightmare,” Prentice explained, Isabella stared at him in shock at his words and he walked to her, put his hands to her jaws and repeated, “You’re a miracle worker.”
“I –” Isabella started then stopped, not having any earthly clue what to say.
No one had ever called her a miracle worker.
Because, in her life, miracles didn’t occur.
Except in this magical little village.
Something flashed in his eyes, his face dipped close and his fingers flexed at her jaw. “Has it occurred to you that if you’d been shown a little love and compassion, the nightmares you’ve had for thirty-two years would have gone away?”
No.
That had never occurred to her because in her life she hadn’t been shown a great deal of love and compassion.
Except in this magical little village.
“No,” she whispered.
He used his hands on her jaw to tip her face so her lips were against his and he muttered, “We’ll have to work on that.”
For a split second, her chest seized.
After that, his words made her mind, heart and soul unconsciously relax, as did her body, melting into his.
His arms stole around her and he kissed her softly.
It was one of the sweetest kisses she’d ever received (and all of the others had been from Prentice too).
When their mouths disengaged, she murmured, “Pren.”
His voice was soft in that way that did funny things to her when he said, “Thank you, baby, for taking care of Jace.”
“I…um…” she stammered and then said stupidly, “You’re welcome.”
He grinned right before he touched her mouth with his again and pulled away.
Sliding his arm around her shoulders, he led her to the door saying, “I’m fucking starved. I’ll help with dinner.”
Isabella was having difficulty keeping up.
Even so, she didn’t think that was such a good thing. Evidence was suggesting that Prentice wasn’t so hot in the kitchen. But she was too shaken by recent events to protest.
Prentice opened the doors and they walked out to Jason declaring loudly, “You know, you two can snog in the kitchen. It’ll be sick but we’ll get used to it.”
Isabella’s eyes jerked to Jason and she tripped over her own feet.
Sally giggled.
Prentice drawled in a voice filled with amused sarcasm, “Thanks for your permission, mate.”
It was at that Isabella’s eyes shifted to Prentice who didn’t remonstrate his son nor did he explain that they weren’t in the study snogging (well, not exactly).
“Just being real,” Jason replied drolly.
“Oh my God, someone shoot me,” Isabella muttered out loud before she could stop herself.
Jason threw her a playful grin.
Prentice gave her a squeeze when they hit the kitchen right before he let her go.
Then he asked, “I don’t know. Can you still make cheeseburgers suffering from bullet wounds? Maybe we’ll shoot you after you make dinner.”
Jason burst out laughing.
Sally cried on a giggle, “Daddy! Stop being funny!”
It was too much. Isabella decided to ignore it all, cook dinner and then throw herself over a cliff.
She didn’t get the chance.
She cooked dinner, Prentice manning the deep fat fryer with expertise (thankfully), they ate it and she and Prentice barely finished the dishes when the doorbell rang.
Jason went to get the door.
Isabella was wiping her hands on a tea towel when Dougal, Annie and Fergus walked in.
“Ready, mate?” Dougal asked before Isabella could call out a greeting at their surprise visit.
“Aye,” Prentice answered, indicating from his ready response that for him this was not a surprise visit. With hands on Isabella’s hips, he steered her toward the hallway. “Get your bag, baby.”
Isabella glanced over her shoulder at him, confused.
Yes.
Confused.
Again!
“What’s going on?” she asked, stopping Prentice’s steering by halting while she looked around at the assemblage.
“We’re going to the pub,” Annie announced, scooping up Blackie and giving the kitty a cuddle. “Dad’s going to watch the kids.”
“Hurrah!” Sally shouted. “Fergus tells stories in funny voices!”
Isabella continued to look around realizing that her plans for the evening which she spent all day getting sorted, which included calmly, warmly, in a friendly, controlled manner, telling Prentice she was soon to be leaving and that their current (she couldn’t even think in her head what to call it but she settled on the word “situation”), situation could not continue, were being dashed.
“I didn’t know we were going out,” Isabella remarked.
“Forgot to mention it,” Prentice said with a gentle shove at the small of her back then repeated, “Get your bag.”
“But I –” she started.
Prentice interrupted her, “Bag, baby.”
It occurred to Isabella that Annie hadn’t returned her phone call. And Prentice “forgot to mention” he’d made plans for them to go to a pub, including arranging a babysitter who happened to be Annie’s father.
Then it occurred to Isabella that she was being played.
She slowly turned and glared at Annie who was trying to look innocent but who never was. Then she looked at Fergus who smiled. Then she looked at Dougal who didn’t look back, instead he studied his boots.