Chapter 2

Christ, I was fucked.

The second Miss Wright shut my office door behind her, I slumped into my office chair and groaned.

What were the odds that one of my grad students would be the same woman I’d slept with three months ago?

A woman who I later discovered was my cousin’s new sister-in-law, not just one of the bride’s friends. Luckily, Liam hadn’t found out. And I wasn’t about to tell him. He’d rip off my bollocks and throw them into the Pacific Ocean.

So I’d done what any self-respecting man trying to preserve his bollocks would do: I’d acted like I hadn’t recognized her.

That night in June, when I’d found Kate drinking alone in an Irish pub, I’d been like a moth attracted to a flame. She’d been so vibrant, so unconcerned with what other people thought of her. She’d mimicked my accent, and it had been such a bad impersonation that I’d almost choked from laughter.

I hadn’t laughed like that in a long time.

But I’d known then it had just been for sex. Hot, quick, dirty sex. No regrets there—Kate had given as good as she’d got. And when she’d gone back to the States a day after the wedding, that had been that.

Apparently not. She was like a bad penny I couldn’t shake. Also a penny that blathered when it got nervous. Had she been like that back in Ireland? Because this Kate wasn’t the confident woman I’d been instantly attracted to. She’d seemed so…young.

And that made me feel like such a damn creep. I reminded myself that she was old enough to be admitted to a graduate program. It wasn’t as if I’d had sex with a high school student.

Let’s stop that train of thought before we get arrested. God knows Americans love to throw people in jail.

I sighed. Should I ask Kate to be assigned to another professor? But what reason would I give?

We fucked each other’s brains out a few months ago. It won’t happen again. But it’s a little awkward now. You get what I mean?

“Knock, knock,” said a voice before my door was opened. Dr. Elizabeth Martin, one of my new colleagues in the department, stepped inside, her brown pumps clicking against the floor. “We’re all going for drinks. Did you want to join us? We’re going to a place that has some great Irish food.”

Doubtful, I thought, missing the greasy pub food from back home fiercely. “I have more work to do,” I said. Seeing Dr. Martin’s disappointed expression, I added, “Sorry.”

Americans were so bloody sensitive. Tell one no, you were busy, and they were liable to burst into tears.

“Come on, take a break. The quarter hasn’t even started yet.” Dr. Martin sat down on the edge of my desk, crossing her tanned legs, her skirt short enough to reveal a bit of thigh. “You don’t want to overwork yourself already.”

I could hear the flirtatious note in her voice. Were all American women out to torment me?

Stop complaining, ye gobshite.

I could hear the voice of my dad in my mind, and I had to bite back a smile. He’d always been the traditionally Irish father: cursing you, even when he was offering praise. I’d had to learn through trial and error that most people didn’t enjoy being insulted when you were trying to give them encouragement or advice.

Dr. Martin’s skirt seemed to inch up her thigh of its own volition. Sneaky, that skirt.

Of course, it made me think of a different skirt on a different dress, in a different country and with a different woman. I could almost hear Kate’s moans as I kissed down her spine, licking at the small of her back and kissing the faint constellation of freckles there.

I had to shift because my trousers were getting tight.

“See, you’re already working,” said Dr. Martin. She crossed her ankles and somehow managed to push her breasts together. The buttons on her blouse would burst off her shirt like shrapnel if she weren’t careful. “You definitely need a break.”

“I need to get this done.”

She frowned but was undeterred. “I was surprised the department assigned you the one female student. I was so sure they would’ve given her to me.”

You and me both, I thought darkly. “Our research coincides more than yours does,” I said frankly, because it was true. Although she was researching genetic engineering, I’d learned at the recent staff meeting that her focus was on agriculture.

“Just don’t get yourself in trouble,” she said suddenly.

I looked up sharply, but Dr. Martin just laughed.

“I’m kidding. You seem totally aboveboard, Professor.” She snagged a Post-it from my desk and scribbled on it. “Here’s my number if you change your mind about drinks. See you later.”

I tried to clear up my inbox, but I could barely concentrate. Anxiety churned in my gut. There was no way Dr. Martin had seen anything between me and Kate. Fear wasn’t the most logical emotion, however.

Grabbing my things, I almost dove under my desk when I heard Dr. Martin laughing down the hallway. Christ, she’d drag me along to drinks if I weren’t careful.

So much for getting to know your coworkers, idiot.

Fucking sue me. I didn’t feel like talking to people tonight. I needed some time to think and to figure out how the hell I was going to deal with a little problem called Kate Wright.

When I arrived home at the tiny flat I’d found a mile from campus so I had an excuse not to learn how to drive (Americans were bloody insane drivers), Clurichaun greeted me at the door.

A huge, fluffy orange beast of a cat, Clurichaun had been surprisingly calm about the whole move from Ireland. He hadn’t remotely lived up to his name, an Irish fairy that loved to drink and play pranks. When I’d had to take Clurichaun out of his carrier at the airport, he’d blinked sleepily and had promptly fallen back asleep in my arms.

My flat consisted of a futon that was about to fall apart any day now and a coffee table made from a cardboard box. The living room was also my bedroom. I should probably get some furniture… I thought for the hundredth time. But it wasn’t like research professors were paid decent money here. The only reason I’d swallowed the paycheck was because the University of Washington had one of the best materials and science programs and it’d be worth it to further my own research.

I’d known that I’d wanted to become a scientist since I’d discovered in primary school how easily you could create chemical reactions from basic things. I’d used up all of my mam’s vinegar and baking soda one summer when I was five years old, loving the way it bubbled in her huge cooking pot like a cauldron full of potions. My mam hadn’t taken kindly to me using up all of her ingredients, or using her cooking pot for science experiments.

As I’d got older, I’d become more interested in genetics and the science behind essentially engineering DNA. Combined with a real fear of climate change and the necessity to find a fuel source that wasn’t based on fossil fuels that damaged the ozone, I became obsessed with the possibility of creating a type of fuel through genetic engineering. It was the combination of biology and engineering that I found fulfilling.

My work at the University of Ireland had brought great advancements in my research: specifically in experiments on bacterial DNA. As my research had progressed, my star had risen as well, and when I had the opportunity to go to a university with a larger, more robust, program, I hadn’t hesitated.

But all of that hard work, the sacrifices, the paperwork and bullshite you had to deal with to immigrate to America—it was all in jeopardy. Because of one slip of a girl who’d shown up in the last place I would’ve ever expected her.

What were the odds? I laughed, because it was preferable to bursting into ugly man tears. I hadn’t cried since my dog had got hit by a car when I was seven.

Clurichaun got onto my lap and started purring so loudly he made my knees shake. I stroked the cat’s fur absentmindedly.

I couldn’t let Kate know I recognized her. Most importantly, I needed to talk to Dr. Martin and see if she’d take her and give me one of her students. I didn’t know the protocol in the department for a student swap, but I’d come up with some excuse. I’d say that Kate and I didn’t get along. Or that she wanted to work with a female professor. That was plausible, right?

And how are you going to get Kate to agree to this?

Based on how embarrassed she’d looked during our bizarre conversation, I couldn’t imagine she wanted to keep me as her advisor, similar research or no. My anxiety calmed somewhat.

I’d get this all hammered out and no one would need to know. As long as Kate kept her mouth shut—who would believe her, anyway?—I could keep my job and not have my reputation utterly fucked. I wasn’t going to let one mistake ruin everything. One night of casual sex was not going to destroy everything I’d worked towards.

Clurichaun meowed in annoyance, hopping down to the floor. Apparently I’d been petting him too aggressively. He licked at his fur, his eyes flashing disdain.

“Sorry, mate. What would you do in my situation?”

Clurichaun just started licking his nonexistent bollocks in reply.

My phone rang, reminding me that I had a phone call with my mam and da tonight. It was about six hours later in Ireland at the moment. I made myself smooth my expression. I couldn’t let my parents be suspicious. My mam, when she sensed something was up, would be like a hound on the scent for blood.

“Lochlann!” said my mam. Both she and my da’s faces came up.

Da waved and then asked, “Can you hear us?” He practically yelled the words.

“Yeah, I can hear you. Da, you don’t need to yell into the phone, you know,” I said.

“Last time we called we couldn’t hear you. Reception is terrible here,” said my mam.

In their sixties now, my parents had worked their entire lives to give me the education they’d never had. As an only child, I’d got their complete focus, but with that came the expectation that I’d make something of myself. I wanted to become successful so I could support my parents as they aged. It was my duty as the only son.

“How was your day? Are you teaching yet?” said my da.

“Classes haven’t started yet,” I replied. “I told you that.”

“Oh, well, I can’t remember all the details of your schedule. Do you like Seattle? What’s everyone like? Are there really Starbucks on every corner?” This from my mam.

I bit back a smile. “Seattle is kind of like Ireland, except there aren’t as many pubs. But the weather is similar. And yes, there are Starbucks on every corner.”

My mam elbowed my da, my da wincing. “I told you! Have you been to—what is it called?—Walls-mart? Is that what it’s called?”

“Walmart. And no, there isn’t one in Seattle proper,” I said with a smile.

My mam gave me a disappointed look. “Well, you need to go to one and tell us all about it. I’ve heard they’re huge.”

“Mattie, he’s busy. He doesn’t have time to go to a bunch of stores,” said my da.

I told my parents about my new department, the classes I was teaching, and I briefly touched on the grad students I’d be advising. When I mentioned one was a female, my mam jumped on that detail, to my immense frustration. Although to be fair, the percentage of women in most STEM programs was abysmally low.

“A girl! Did you ever advise a girl in Ireland? I thought only men attended these programs,” said my mam.

“It’s not like they’re not open to women,” I countered.

My da pushed up his glasses. “No, but it’s a field that men do. Like women are nurses.”

I wasn’t about to argue that things had changed and that there were plenty of men becoming nurses and women becoming engineers. Instead, I just said, “Well, there are women in the program. I met with my student today. Her research is similar to mine, which is why she was assigned to me.”

“Is she single?” My mam’s eyes widened. “How old is she?”

I needed to end this conversation now. Giving them an excuse that I was meeting up with a colleague, I ended the phone call and sighed deeply.

Clurichaun meowed at my feet.

“What a fucking disaster,” I muttered, Clurichaun seeming to nod in agreement.