Including him. Even though he had been intent on keeping her at arm’s length, she’d managed to get past his first-line defenses and become a comfortable piece of his private life. But what had changed between the Power Match meet and greet and now? Truly, the answer was “nothing.” The last thing Isaac needed was the complication of any type of relationship. He wasn’t built for commitment, didn’t have the emotional capital he would need to invest to ensure any relationship he entered into would thrive. And if he couldn’t ensure any investment would perform above and beyond the mean, he didn’t invest.
Period.
Yet having spent only two nights with Rachel, having taken a spontaneous trip with her, he had to wonder where his head was. It certainly wasn’t screwed on straight. Had it been, he wouldn’t be sitting in Ireland with a woman he hardly knew, marveling at her ability to charm complete strangers. Things hadn’t been terribly difficult between them, and he knew she was the reason. Had he been solely responsible for making things between them work? He’d have ended up going home alone, again, that night. And every night thereafter. He wouldn’t have had Thursday and Friday night to revel in her companionship, wouldn’t have tonight...perhaps even more...to look forward to.
Yet recognizing that he was the problem in this equation didn’t sit well.
At all.
But what was he supposed to do—change who he was to suit another person? How could she come in and make him consider upending his whole life?
Because that’s what he’d done. He looked around. No. That’s what he wasdoing. Actively.
As he saw it, he had two choices. He could either let the weekend play out and then do his level best to walk away without a backward glance, having enjoyed the woman’s company and their shared sexual experiences before parting ways with a friendly but final farewell. Or, more realistically, he could see the weekend through and find a way to see Rachel again.
Isaac’s temple began to throb, the headache striking him without warning.
Having a woman in his life would complicate things, add to the list of people he was responsible for keeping safe. Did he want that? Did he want the additional responsibility that came with opening one’s life?
More troubling, did he want to give up the control over himself he’d fought so hard to master? Because there was no doubt that Rachel threatened his control. An epiphany hit, and he realized that she hadn’t just threatened it. She’dtakensome of it away from him without trying. That the act was an unconscious one didn’t matter at all. She did what she did, was who she was, and that was good and well for her. But for him?
No.
Glancing around, he realized this wasn’t who he was. Not this pub, not this place, not this spontaneous decision-making, not yesterday’s shopping excursion. None of it.
“None of it.”
“Pardon?”
He looked up and realized the waitress waited on his order. “I apologize. I’ll have what she’s having, drink and meal alike.”
The waitress jotted down a couple of notes before promising to have their drinks back quickly. Then she turned and was swallowedby the crowd.
Isaac knew the feeling of being consumed, swallowed whole and lost in a familiar place. That’s exactly what he was experiencing right now.
Truth? He didn’t want to change his life. He didn’t want to see things uprooted, didn’t want the threat of loss added to his emotional baggage. To bring in Rachel would be to ask her to change who she was seeing as Isaac was pretty damn sure he, himself, wouldn’t change.
So he would do what he did best. He would build a plan around logic and then execute the plan to the satisfactory end—an end where he and his lover would bid each other goodbye. Then he would go back to the life he’d created for himself, the life that he knew, the life that had structure. That was predictable. That was safe.
But for the first time in as long as he could remember, the safe thing didn’t feel safe at all.
Rachel had watched a bevy of emotions play out across Isaac’s face, from fear when they’d arrived to what she could only label resoluteness as they waited on their dinner. Isaac had been dismissive when she asked if he was okay, so she’d left him be. Instead, she focused on the people funneling into the small pub, watching as several arrived with instruments and grouped themselvesby type. Brass sat near the fireplace. Fiddles were closest to the bar. Handheld drums she believed were called bodhrans were near the front entrance. And two guitars were close to her and Isaac’s table. Groups of men began to move tables out of the center of the pub at the same time the waitress returned with their order.
“What’s going on?” Rachel asked, tipping her head toward the men’s activity.
The waitress didn’t spare a glance. “There’s acraictonight.”
“A...”
“Craic,” the waitress said slowly. “It’s like...” She tapped a finger against her chin before her eyes lit with the answer. “It basically means a good time. Fun. Entertainment. See the folks scattered around with the different instruments? The players will play familiar songs, joining in on the ones they know, getting up and wandering about as the vocalists sing and patrons dance. That’s why the menfolk are moving the tables. You and your man will have to get up and give it a go around the dance floor after a bit.” With a wink and a nudge, she was off, quickly swallowedby the ever-growing crowd.
Your man.
Rachel’s insides fluttered at the waitress’s reference to her and Isaac. He wasn’t hers. At least, not in the traditional sense. For the weekend, though... That was a matter of opinion. She didn’t want to be tied to one man again, wouldn’t allow her life to be dictatedby his wants and needs. She was reveling in her freedom, rejoicing in having just managed to reclaim her sense of self. Yes, her choices regarding Isaac were, without a doubt, one aspect of her newfound freedom—sort of an exclamation point at the end of her declarative sentence. But he was somehow more, no matter that she didn’t want him to be.
Even though he was from society’s upper echelon, a group she had never felt entirely comfortable with, she found she actuallylikedhim. It was the oddest thing. He was her opposite—cautious to her jump-first mentality, logical to her natural free-spiritedness and, despite his spur-of-the-moment offer to take her to Ireland for the weekend, highly structured in the face of her spontaneity.
Rachel nearly choked on her Guinness. As if that wasn’t amassivespontaneous act—taking a weekend jaunt to Europe. She’d have to strike that off her list of differences, or at least weight it accordingly. Regardless, there was something about Isaac that called to Rachel. It was a call she didn’t want to hear and one she didnotwant to answer. Not when she’d just found her feet again. She’d been nothing but a pile of raw, exposed emotions after her ex-husband left. And they’d been compatible from the start. But she and Isaac? Not even close. She didn’t need to get seriously involved with a man who was, in so many ways, her opposite. That was like begging the Fates to weave trouble right into her lifeline. No, no, no. No relationships for the next year. At least. Maybe two.