A Love Meant to Be

Author's note: I met a young Eurasian saleswoman by the name of Shelby while Christmas shopping a several years ago. She was kind enough to share her post-graduation dreams of traveling to her father's home of Ireland and finding her roots. From this chance encounter, this tale was spun. Here's hoping you enjoy the telling. As always, the story characters are purely fictional and over the age of eighteen.

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The weather was turning bad with the wind picking up and the dark clouds beginning to shed their liquid content. Although full, the moon was partially hidden by the same clouds and offered no help or comfort as its pale light distorted the unfamiliar terrain with eerie shadows. This was not a good time to be out and about, especially if your car had broken down and you decided to walk out of an unfamiliar area.

"Smart, Shelby, really smart. You could have taken a known but more expensive car rental company. But, no, you went the 'el cheapo' route just to save a few bucks. Come on; admit it. The moment you turned the ignition key and your damn rental car rattled and sputtered; you knew it would spell trouble for you. But, did this stop you? No, you jumped in and drove away. Smart, really smart.

"Then in keeping with the 'when it rains, it pours' theme of your life, you stall out in the middle of nowhere - and in the middle of a fricking mobile phone 'dead zone' - no signal. If that wasn't enough, you find that wouldn't have mattered anyway since your phone shows a very low battery indicator - talk about adding insult to injury.

"And how did you come to be talking to yourself stranded in nowheresville? Stupidity, that's how. Let's see - you're in a foreign country - your father's Ireland - where you know absolutely no one - nada - not a soul. But, does that stop you? Nooo! After graduating from college, you get it into your head to traipse around Ireland and go wherever the road may lead you. Yeah, it seemed so adventuresome... until your car craps out and you finally realize just how screwed you are. Shelby-girl, couldn't you have done a little planning?"

As Shelby trudge down a barely discernable lane in the moonlight, she continued her mental conversation perversely to keep her mind off her dismal situation. "Ireland - the birthplace of a father whom I never knew. How ironic that he would name me after his concept of the ultimate freedom - the Shelby Mustang - the icon symbol of high performance and being wild and free. Ha, but here I am stuck with a broken-down rental junk and walking down a lonely country lane in a foreign country on a dimly lit night."

At twenty-two years of age, Shelby was accustomed to berating herself. She was a lonely young woman, the offspring of two radically different cultures - the Celtic mysteries of her Irish father and the inscrutable culture of her Japanese mother. How these two opposites were attracted to each other in the first place was an enigma. Her mother said that they were inexplicably drawn together was with a sole purpose - to conceive a daughter - Shelby. For as soon as she was born and named, her father dropped out of her life with the surprisingly subtle acquiesce of her mother.

Shelby knew that she was a unique blend of the physical characteristic of her parents. From her father, she inherited an incredibly snowy powder-puff complexion with light auburn hair. At five-feet-seven, she had a comely figure with full but not too heavy breasts, a trim waist, pleasing hips, and long shapely legs. From her mother, she inherited high cheekbones that gave her slightly almond-shaped deep-brown eyes an up-turned elvish look. Her nose was gently rounded and when combined with her sensuous lips, gave Shelby an undefined appeal that had attracted many a man.

Of course, that allure was totally lost in the misery that engulfed her at the present time. "Holy Mary, Mother of God, I'm drenched and freezing," Shelby groaned to herself as she tried to control her shivering. "This light traveling cloak and hood looked good in the store window and was passable in keeping me warm...when dry. Now it is sopping wet and clings to me like a wet shroud...and I must look like one of the living dead. There you go again, Shelby! Stop thinking of spooky stuff when you're all alone in the dark.

"I'm shivering so badly that my teeth are chattering, and...what? Oh great! There they go again. My two large Japanese nipples decide to get so stiff and painfully achy as they jut out from my boobs. Thanks, Mom. I can remember how I use to complain about how mortified I was when my 'tit-bumps' poked embarrassingly through my clothes whenever I was cold like now, or hot like when exercising, or I got excited.

"In response to all my complaints, Mom would just give me one of her damn Asian Mona Lisa smiles. A woman of few words, she would then mutter mysteriously that one day my protruding nipples would ensnare the man of my dreams. My present-day humiliation didn't matter, just her steadfast prediction of what was to come.

"Man of my dreams, huh? I should have never told Mom about my dreams - or nightmares, depending on the perspective. Haunting my night, my shadow man first came to me as a whisper and a laugh, weaving his way into my dreams. I couldn't see his face but I could hear him calling to me that first night in that voice with that distinctive Irish lilt. I can recall how easily he ensnared me in the web of his hidden world as I shared his small house and the immediate surrounding area. Yet, I never could recall when I awoke of what we spoke of - I only knew that we had shared time together.

"Then on my eighteenth birthday, the visitations changed. His lips and hands now idly roamed my body with casual familiarity, caressing me and making me shiver and burn at the same time. Embracing me, his heavy bear-like pressure pushed me into my bed's mattress. My crossed wrists were held above my head, making my breast arched to his face, lips, and that terrible tormenting tongue of his. My legs were spread by his knees and thighs as he mounted me, his erect member rubbing and grinding against my fleshy vulva, making me groan in building anticipation and fright.

Then it happened - I awoke, crying aloud as my dream was so vivid that I woke myself. How my Mother held me, stroking my hair and brushing away my tears as I incoherently sobbed about my quickly fading dream. When I murmured my uncertainty if I had been sexually assaulted or seduced, my mother dismissed my doubts. With a strange look on her face, she said that I had just my first 'wet' dream, the first of many to come.

"After that night, I didn't tell mother of my recurring dream. It was as if I was being courted by some shadow lover whose face I could never see or remember, but whose body, smell, kisses, and touch were all too familiar. The same large dark man, who now 'took' me with practiced ease. A shadowy figure, he made me gasp and cry out in wincing pain; made me convulse violently; and made my body responded in the breathtaking orgasms. And when I awoke, I found myself exhausted, drenched in sweat with spreading wetness in my tender sex.

"Those nightly visitations ruined any chance of a love life in the waking world. Oh, I'd enjoy the company of men, and would even go out with them. But it never failed that the more I was open to romance with a guy, the more frequent my so-called wet dreams became as if to dissuade any further romantic inclinations. Of course, it didn't help that none of my hopeful beaux measured up to my mysterious Irish lover. Sigh, and what? Shelby-girl, you're twenty-two and still a virgin. How pathetic?"

Yet, as much as Shelby berated her life and the disastrous nature of her spontaneous adventure, she knew she couldn't help herself. Although reluctant to admit it to herself, she was responding to the call of her mysterious lover who had infiltrated her dreams for oh so long. He had become her silent obsession, and like a spawning salmon, she was compelled to follow that calling no matter how faint or elusive; no matter where it led in her life.

"What is it about Irish men...first my father...then my nightly visitor," Shelby moaned as she mentally talked to herself to block out her physical misery. "I'm following my damn urges, searching for something that I can't quite put my finger on. I am stuck in the middle of isolation in a pouring rain...drenched, cold, and miserable...and I don't even know what I'd do if I ever met him face to face.

"Wait! Am I seeing correctly? Is that a light in the distance? Ooh, please don't let it be my imagination or some trick of this full moon!"

There across a gentle brook stood a thatched-roof cottage that was nestled in the curve of a sheltering hill and protectively flanked on either side by two large oak trees. The white-painted stone walls spoke of solid strength and the windows set in them glowed with friendliness. However, Shelby felt a shiver of trepidation shoot through her body upon seeing this cottage for it was clearly a case of déjà vu.

"It can't be," she thought as she carefully but instinctively stepped instinctively on the right flat stones to cross the brook. "I know this pace...this cottage. I don't know how, but I do. I know it's a man's cottage and I fear who might await me inside."

Shelby hesitated before the heavy wooden door, but a sudden cold breeze pushed her from behind, driving her forward and forcing her to pull her drench hood down and around her face. With her wet cape clinging to her, Shelby was about to knock on the door when she heard the whine of a dog and a man's baritone voice say, "What is it, Sheamus? What do you hear, boy?" Then before Shelby knew it, the door flew open and the warm glow of the fireplace and lamps silhouetted a bear of a man...her shadow lover.

If Shelby was surprised, the man facing her was stunned to find a lovely hooded woman of ivory complexion standing at his door. With his index and little fingers held upright as his thumb clasped against the two middle fingers, he made a sign to ward off evil while blurting out, "Are you...of the 'Aes Sidhe'...the people of the mounds?"

Then looking at his collie that stood at his side calmly regarding Shelby, the man then said, "Sheamus hears anyone approaching the cottage. What have you done to my dog? Are you the Leanan Sidhe who has come to take me?"

His confusion and fear strangely brought a slight smile to Shelby's lips which unfortunately made the giant of a man before her gulp and take a step backward. "No, I'm not," Shelby muttered trying to control her shaking, "But, I am sopping wet, and cold, and your dog knows that I mean you no harm. So, may I please come in and enjoy the hospitality of your warmth and light?"

Shelby sighed loudly as the door closed behind her, and the coziness and familiarity of the cottage embraced her as an old friend would. Seamus nuzzled her hand to receive a loving pat to the head before turning to curl up by the fireplace. Shelby took off her hooded cloak and without looking, hung it on a peg that she knew was behind the door. Brushing the long hair from her face, she turned to face her host.

With the light on his face, Shelby saw a lean but muscular man who towered over her by at least seven inches and seemed some years older than her. Unruly, thick, dark brown hair and dark eyebrows matched the lightly unshaven shadow of the square strong jaw of his handsome face. But when she looked at his crystal-blue eyes, she found that they were wide and riveted to her chest. Looking down, she gasped as she saw her big nipples protruded obscenely through the wet light sweater, blouse, camisole, and lacy bra which were plastered to her firm and up-turned breasts.

Quickly covering herself and breaking the spell that had entranced the hulking young man who stood before her, Shelby quickly murmured as she held out her free hand. "Hello, I'm Shelby. And, you are?"

Quickly recovering his senses, her host quickly captured and turned her hand. A light kiss graced her palm, sending a tingling through her. "Sean...Sean Mahony. And you, my lady, are Shelby...?

"My surname name, young sir, is O'Malley...Shelby O'Malley." Shelby delighted in the gasp that escaped Sean's lips.

"You...you are Irish, my lady?"

"Oh, Sir Sean, that I am although only part by my father. On my other side comes from a culture and world as old as our shared background. My mother is Japanese, a wisp of a woman, who ensnared my father, a traveling minstrel, until I was born. Then after giving me his name, he was released to follow the open road that called to him."

"And so, lovely lady," Sean interjected as he planted another tender kiss on the top of her hand. "Do you intend to do the same to me? "

Shelby cocked her head as she gazed upon the man before her and with a nod to herself, she took in a deep breath and said, "Oh, Sean Mahony, do you not already know that you've been the man of my dreams for so many years. Don't you already know that you are already mine, you silly man? But before I go any further, may I change out of these wet clothes into something dry. Is the bathroom..yes, the loo...the last room on the right of this short hallway?

Sean's gasp was enough to tell her that she was right. As she slowly sashayed to the bathroom door, Shelby said, "Sean...would you be so kind as to bring me your clean flannel shirt and long woolen tube socks. I can't very well prance around naked even though you may want me to."

Once in the bathroom, Shelby hastily shed and hung up her drenched clothes and shoes. She then leisurely dried herself with a towel carrying that familiar scent of her dreams. "What have you done, Shelby," she asked herself. "You enter a man's house...a total stranger...and yet you speak to him with such bold familiarity. You say things that seem to have been scripted long ago; yet, the words are so natural that they flow off the tip of your tongue without a second thought."

She heard a soft rap on the bathroom door and hastily wrapping the towel around her nude figure, opened the door. There Sean stood, looking perplexed at the sudden turn of events but with her requested clothes plus a worn but comfortable robe. When Shelby reached out to take the garments from him, her towel loosened slightly to reveal the swelling tops of her creamy breasts. A sharp gasp was uttered from Sean like that of what a starving man would utter upon spying delicious delights of a feast.

However, instead of being embarrassed, Shelby coyly smiled at the blushing hulk of a man before her and chimed, "Now Sean Mahony, don't be looking at me that way. There will be time for that later on tonight. Close the door and let me get dressed before I freeze to death, standing here stark naked with only a towel covering me."

After what seemed like a lifetime, Sean rose from his sitting chair next to the fireplace when Shelby entered the room. He was bedazzled again by this mysterious young woman. With her damp hair neatly combed and falling down her back, he could see the delicate Asian influence in her face that gave her a dreamy eroticism unlike any woman he had known before. His oversized clothing should have hung on her but somehow Shelby made them fashionable. But it was when he realized that she was nude underneath and felt the stirring in his loins that he was spurred to speak.

"I sorry but I was unprepared for visitors," Sean said as he led Shelby to the sitting chair he had arranged on the other side of the fireplace from his. "It's not every night that I have a beautiful fairy showing up at my doorstep." Then pointing to the small table next to her chair, he continued, "But, I hope you'll find the brown bread acceptable... it's hearty and flavorful as is the cheese that goes with it. As for the last of my ham...umm, I am sorry...but Seamus, the rascal, purloined the two slices before I could stop him...and..."

"Sean, it's fine. Your hospitality is most satisfying and I could not ask for more... except for possibly two things." Then standing, Shelby asked, "First, Sean, would you be so kind as to move my chair next to yours? I dislike talking to you at a distance and would prefer to be closer to you."

When that request was quickly done and she was seated, Shelby then said, "Aah, secondly, would you have something to drink? Water? Thank you, but no. I think I've had enough water for one day. Would you happen to have something a wee bit 'stronger' to sip on? Whiskey? Irish, of course. Yes, that'll do. Are you surprised, Sean Mahony? Then you have a good many things that will surprise you tonight. Please, join me in the drink for it is against all good manners for a damsel such as myself to imbibe in the spirits by herself."

The time that followed was dreamlike as they ate, drank, and laughed together. Shelby was surprised that Sean who was seven years older was an architect by education and trade. He often came to the cottage he had inherited from his granddad to escape the rat-race of Dublin and to ground himself in this special place. Here he became one with the simplicity of nature and drew inspiration for his rather successful projects. Sean also let it be known that although he was no stranger to women, he had never shared his sanctuary with a member of the opposite sex until Selbsy had crossed his threshold.

To Sean, Shelby was a perplexing riddle. At first, he thought what made her intriguing was her degree in Fine Arts that enabled her to see and uniquely share his perception of the surrounding world. But, the more that they interacted, the more Sean realized just how different Shelby was. It was almost as if she had grown up with him, and her intimate knowledge of him and his cottage was to the point of being surreal and disconcerting.

"Shelby, how do you know me so well? Have we met before?"

Taking a slow sip of her whiskey, Shelby leaned over to boldly press her liquor-coated lips to Sean's, enjoying his startled reaction and his returned kiss that was hot and heavy. Breaking away, she casually eased on to his lap to press her face to his thundering chest and murmured, "Sean, as I said before, I know you and this place from my dreams where we have been lovers for years.

"No, Sean, I'm not daft, but believe it or not, you have come to me many times in my dreams and even took my dream virginity. Sean, I grew up making love to you here in this cottage which I didn't know existed in reality until I entered it tonight. I do not know why or how I came to this cottage and you, but I did."

Subtly slipping her arms around his neck, Shelby whispered in his ear, "Tell me, Sean Mahony, if in your dreams for many years you met and fell in love with a certain unknown maiden. Tell me that you haven't held her in your arms, made passionate love to her, and planted your seed in her young fertile body. For if you tell me that you have not, then I will let you be. I will bother you no more 'tho it will break my heart to leave..."

"Leave me? Nay, not when now I can place your lovely face to the woman of my dreams. Why would I want to lose you?" Then after a pause, as he struggled to find the right words, Sean continued, "Yes, I too have dreamed of you. At first, I didn't know how I found you in my dreams. But when such visitations became more intimate, I began to wonder if I was haunted, possessed by some succubus who always seemed to meet me in this cottage. However, this time, I was compelled to be here on the night of the full moon and without knowing why other than I had to. It was as if I was waiting.

"That's why when I saw you standing at my door, I thought that you were some fey come to finally collect me. Then your eerie familiarity with this cottage and with me...well...Shelby, you are more than a bit unsettling. But, nay, never in a hundred lifetimes would I want to lose you now that I've found you. So now, my fairy queen, what will you have me do?"