The date had been decided at the cosy Italian restaurant downtown. She was very late and felt apologetic to him. Ronan, her date, waved it off with a smile. He was a ginger-haired Irishman from a rural country farm. His profile had captivated her on the dating app.
Her nerves were hellish that evening, but this was a way to escape the loveless reunion that they tried to force on her. She had hoped to be out of the woods by disowning the family. However, it was unlikely that her father would give up that easily. She knew that much. So, the only option was to get married.
It was not easier said than done because her options were narrowed—picking off a random person or paying someone to act out as her husband would be a ploy bound to mess up later on. Her father had eyes everywhere. Anyone she tried to buy off would be bought off from her. Most men would not want to entangle on bad terms with her father.
It was better to find someone far away untethered to her family's influence or someone with equal social standing as her family. The latter remained unlikely due to the fact no business dared challenge her father's empire. Royalty was out of the question; their internal struggles would suffocate her.
Her gaze settled on Ronan; his rustic charm and distant heritage at a country farm seemed perfect. Ronan's warm smile put her at ease. Over wine and pasta, they shared laughter and stories.
As the night unfolded, Maeve found herself drawn to Ronan's gentle nature and genuine interest.
"Tell me more about your countryside," Maeve asked, her curiosity piqued.
Ronan's eyes sparkled. "It's a beautiful country. Peaceful; the folks are tight-knit in the community. I'd love to show you sometime."
Maeve's heart skipped in joy. This could be the escape that she planned, her ticket to freedom. She would have to just seal the deal. Her gaze lowered, and the sly predatory fixed on Ronan. He fidgeted in his place by how she looked at him. If only he knew.
As they strolled through the city streets, Ronan's hand brushed hers. Maeve didn't pull away. Instead, she gazed directly at him. He squirmed under her look. She noticed. A subtle displeasure crossed her mind like a light breeze. Well, it's nothing she couldn't fix. "Would you like to see more of the city? I have a nice place where I'm sure you would like to take a look at," she whispered gently, her eyes locked on him. Her hands slowly trailed his vest jacket up to his chin. He gulped.
"Sure, why not? I'd love to." She dragged him along excitedly in the direction of her annex. They hailed a taxi to her place.
As they entered Maeve's cosy annex, Ronan's head nodded in approval. "This is a nice place you've got here."
Maeve smiled, her fingers intertwining with his. "Welcome to my humble abode." Ronan's gaze drifted to the window sofa cushioned by a couple of chair pillows. It faces the city skyline outside. "Stunning view"
Maeve's voice whispered in his ear from behind him. "I'm glad you like it." Ronan turned his face inches from hers. He was flustered but quickly regained composure. She offered him a glass of wine, a devilish smile dancing across her lips.
They had a nice chat over wine when Maeve stood up from the sofa, taking his almost empty glass and setting it aside. He watched her every action with an expectant gaze. He gulped again. As she had sat close to him.
"Did I mention you have a unique colour of eyes?" She said softly, her lips dragging at the tone. Their lips met in a soft, exploratory kiss. Maeve's hands soon slid up his chest under his vest. Her fingers traced his chest.
A little bit average on the feel. She thought.
Ronan's shirt and vest slid off, revealing his torso. Not quite what she had expected. "I do try to add in some muscle from time to time, but this is as far as it has gone."
"And the picture you had on the app?" She narrowed her gaze with a raised eyebrow in scepticism.
"Filters," he said slowly, as though a sharp thorn aimed at his through. He didn't realise he had held his breath until she responded.
"It's fine either way; I'm sure it will grow in." Maeve laughed it off, dissolving the tension that had built up in the process. She dove in for another kiss, quenching the raging thoughts filled with panic and worry from him. Her thigh found its way onto his lap for better access.
"I need to show you somewhere else," she said, gasping for air. Ronan looked dazed.
"Where else?" he asked curiously.
Maeve beamed. "My bedroom," she said. Ronan lifted her up with his hands, supporting her from under her bum. His voice was calm and with confidence. " Point the way. "
Oliver returned late that evening. He glanced at her door. He remembered she had a date that evening. And his thoughts wondered if it had turned out well. He knew he had to wait for her to come to tell him, but he was particularly curious then to know how it went. He entered his room, the door still ajar in case she heard him come in, and her door was ready to be swung open any moment from then.
He took his shoes, dropped his bag, and loosened his tie. Yet she had not stepped out of her. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad to knock and say hi, he thought. Oliver had stepped out of his front door and was staring at hers, his hands fisted into a knuckle about to knock when he paused. He let out a long sigh and laid his forehead against the doorframe. "What was he doing?" he stepped back into his door. A small glance in her direction before he closed his door.