Luck of The Irish (Getting Lucky)
When she realized that I wasn’t going to move on until she answered, she breathed a deep sigh and looked me directly in the eyes. “My mother is a drunk and a junkie of sorts. Addiction runs in the family. I watched it eat her alive.”
I let her words sink in and settle deep in my body. I knew that pain, the disappointment she’d deal with. I mostly helped local kids who’d been through the exact same trauma. Parents drowning their demons with nothing left over to share with their children. Neglect, abuse, turning wee ones into drug runners, I’d seen it all over the years and I was neither shocked or disgusted.
“That’s gotta be tough,” I said. The urge to hold her and comfort her, stroke my fingers through her hair came over me like a tsunami. But I held back because I wanted her to have room to talk if she needed. Addiction wasn’t a one size fits all shirt. Her experience was her own, and I didn’t want to come off as some expert on her pain.
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “She always drank a little too much, but when my dad left for the last time, that’s when it spiraled out of control. Nothing was ever the same again after that.”
“Is that why you moved to Ireland?”
“Yes, and no. I got into a post doc program at the university. That and, my dad lives here, too.”
“How come young Liam doesn’t live with him?” I asked, grabbing a plate and loading it with food before placing it in front of her.
“Oh, that’s easy. He abandoned us.”
It was easy to see where her fight came from. These two had survived a veritable shit storm. I imagined she’d been in survival mode for a long time. Liam, too. No wonder she was so crazy protective of him.
“One morning he said he was going to work just like he always did and then he didn’t come back. Ever. You know, just tired and I guess he thought he’d throw away his family and have more energy for other things,” she said cynically.
“Uff, that’s rough, Erin. I’m glad Liam has you in his life.”
“Me too. So we’re just two of your typical sob story clichés. I guess that’s what you wanted to talk about? You specialize in straightening out poor kids who’ve gone astray?” She took a bite of the mushy peas, closing her eyes and making an erotic groan as she ate. “This is amazing. If you didn’t make it, where’d it come from?”
“Moira, Sean’s mom. She loads me up on food as a thank you. Sean’s coming in here every other day with some fantastic dish. Mostly local fare. This is all from her, actually. She’s an excellent cook. I keep asking her to open her own pub, but she refuses. I even offered to fund it for her.”
‘I’d eat there!” she said. Erin took another enthusiastic bite and loved the way her lips closed around the tines of the fork.
“We all would. They’re good people those two. Sean was truly headed in the wrong direction and now he’s turned his life around.
“You’re a regular good samaritan,” she teased, as she took another bit.
“I do what I can to help the community.”
“And now you want to help me?”
“Ahh, A Chara, I want to get to know you better is all. I don’t see you as a child. You’re already all grown up,” I told her, my voice falling low.
She placed her fork beside her plate and smiled demurely at me. My pants felt a little tight as I imagined her pretty lips wrapping around me instead of that fork.
Chapter 6
ERIN
I didn't know why, but talking to Aiden about my mother wasn't upsetting me. Usually it had the opposite effect. Sometimes, just writing her name on a legal form could ruin my whole day. I’d put in the work to put distance between us. She wasn't someone I liked to talk about or think about if I could avoid it. Mom wasn't really a mother to Liam and me, she was just a stranger who lived with and every need we had, was to her, a nuisance or grievance.
"Liam tells me you help the kids around here to stay out of trouble. What made you such a Robin Hood?" I asked, wanting to put him on the hot seat now. He was so handsome, the lines of his face looked as if they were sculpted in stone. His pecs were so developed the delineation was visible underneath his heavy cotton shirt. His forearms were literally to die for. The ring on his thumb and middle finger intrigued me enough to be caught staring.
"Yeah." He smiled coyly and color appeared on his face. It wasn't the normal cocky expression he wore with confidence on the gym floor. There was a sweet side to him. He was exceptionally kind, a gentle giant in disguise. "I used to be a scraper, myself, Erin. Living on the streets kind of has a way of doing that to you."