Page 25 of An Irish Summer

A laugh slipped out of me into the silence, earning a glare from a security guard.

“I’m serious,” Collin said. “They met here for before-dinner drinks. And probably again for after-dinner drinks. And midmorning

drinks, and all the other times they spent drinking without anything better to do.”

“Sounds like the Wanderer.”

“Now you’re getting it,” he said. “The Duke and Duchess of Manchester especially fancied this one.”

“What’s their story?”

“I’m glad you asked. The duke wasn’t much of anything, but his wife, Helena, was a wealthy American. Her da practically funded

their whole lives here.”

“Nice gig for the duke, huh?”

“Except they changed nearly everything in the castle. They made tons of renovations, which the locals felt disrespected the

legacy left by the Henrys, so the duke and duchess were mostly hated by the townspeople.”

“Why did everyone care what they did with their house?” I asked.

“Haven’t you noticed?” Collin said. “Everyone in Ireland cares deeply about everyone else’s business.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” I said. “One of the many things I’ve learned from you since I’ve moved here.”

He flashed a smile. “They also probably hated that she was American,” he added after a moment.

“What’s wrong with being American?” I asked.

“Depends who you ask. Some would say they’re greedy, or ignorant, or self-loathing.”

“And the Irish have it all figured out?”

“Look around, Chels,” he said. “People are happy here. We know a thing or two about work-life balance. Doesn’t hurt that there’s

a pub around every corner, but my statement stands.”

I sighed, and his smile told me he knew he had me. People were happy here. And it wasn’t just because of the pubs.

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” I said.

“Finally.” He smiled.

“Thanks, Collin. For today, and the past couple weeks. I know I was difficult when I first got here, but I’m glad you forced

me to get over myself.”

“Someone had to do it.”

“I’m trying to be nice!” I exclaimed, and he held his hands up in surrender.

“Don’t mention it, Chels. It’s been grand.”

“Maybe your life is actually perfect.”

He cleared his throat so suddenly I almost jumped, but he said nothing. Only offered an awkward half smile, motioning in the

direction of the exit. His mood shifted so quickly I was certain it must have been because of something I said, but I couldn’t

figure out what it was. I was beginning to understand life here. That was what he wanted, wasn’t it?

I walked wordlessly beside Collin to the truck, resisting the urge to say anything that would break the silence. Or make things

worse. Instead, I followed his lead, settling in for the drive back to Galway with little more than the sound of the radio

and the gears turning in my brain.

About halfway through the drive, he finally spoke. “My life isn’t perfect, you know.”

“What?”

“You said before that my life was perfect, but it’s not.”

I’d offended him with a compliment?

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it,” I said, turning to face him even though he was looking at the road. “Only that

I really do think it’s great.”

He blew out a breath, and I waited. “I know, I know. That’s what normal people usually mean when they say something like that.

It’s just, that’s what my family always says, only they don’t mean it the way you mean it. They say it like a dig at me. Like

I left the family home to go live my perfect life, but they know it hasn’t been perfect and isn’t now, so they mean for it

to sting. But you didn’t.” I kept waiting, in case he wanted to say anything else. I was beginning to realize while it was

rare for Collin to be anything but positive, he had some skeletons just like the rest of us, and I wanted to give him space

to air them out. “Sorry about that,” he said after another minute.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” I said. “I’m sorry about your family. That doesn’t seem fair to you.”

“Ah, family is never fair. Doesn’t mean I don’t love them.” His voice softened. “They just get right under my skin sometimes.”

I made a soft noise of understanding and he turned the radio back up, signaling the end of our conversation. The lines in

his forehead disappeared, and I was grateful our silence this time was a contented one.

By the time we returned to the Wanderer the sun had long since set, and I was tired and hungry.

“Fancy a bite?” Collin asked, nodding toward the kitchen.

“Who’s cooking?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. I definitely wasn’t up for it, and I had no idea if any of his skills extended

to the kitchen.

“Flo, earlier tonight,” he said, and I was relieved. “Surely there’s something left over.”

“Lead the way.”

We only turned one light on in the kitchen, leaving most of the room in the shadows. Collin found half a sheet cake in the

fridge and pulled two forks from the silverware drawer. We leaned against the counter, slowly cutting pieces of the cake straight

from the box.

“This was quite the day,” he said after a while, licking buttercream from the back of his fork.

“It really was a roller coaster,” I agreed, thinking our almost-crash on the way to the abbey felt like it was ages ago.

“Up, then down, then up, then down...” he said, dropping his fork on the counter and stepping in front of me, so close

I could feel the warmth of his breath.

“We have to end on up, then, don’t we?” I asked, dropping my fork beside his and meeting his gaze.

Our eyes locked over the cake. Our breath rose and fell in matching pace.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he whispered, slowly bringing his hands to my hips and pressing me against the counter. “Still

willing to let me lead the way?”

Had I been one to speak my mind, I might have said willing felt more like begging .

It turned out a nod was all he needed, and within seconds, his lips were on mine and my head was spinning.

I might have known a kiss was coming, but there was no way of knowing it would have felt like this.

The floor disappeared from underneath me; the walls fell away; and I knew I would never have another first kiss as hot as this for as long as I lived.

When his teeth grazed my bottom lip, I let my hands slip under the hem of his shirt, relishing the feel of his body. I was

sure he could feel my heart beating, but I was hopeless in slowing it down.

Collin pulled my hair and tilted my head back, deepening the kiss, clearly not willing to slow anything down. It took every

ounce of self-control not to pull his shirt over his head and revisit the body I’d been trying and failing to forget since

that day in the bathroom.

A low groan rumbled from his throat when I pressed my fingernails into his back. If I thought his accent would stick in my

head forever, I had no idea what that groan would do to me.

Our breaths turned ragged as the kiss slowed, weeks of tension sparking erratically between us. The kiss was already seared

into some deep, dark part of my memory, and I was replaying it before it was even over. The taste of buttercream would no

longer remind me of birthdays, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to eat cake the same way again.

When we eventually separated, Collin pulled away just far enough to rest his forehead on mine.

Still a fraction of an inch from his face, terrifying thoughts started to creep in. How I no longer wanted to speed toward

the end of the summer. How it was possible that one singular day altered everything I’d been telling myself since I’d gotten

here. How it might have even altered everything I’d been telling myself long before that. How badly I wanted to do it again.

He laughed against my lips, as if responding to my racing thoughts. “Come on, Chels,” he said, backing away and hold ing out his hand. “Let’s get you out of here before you go down some rabbit hole you don’t need to be in.”

“I wasn’t...”

“Catch yourself on.” He smiled, smug as ever. Like his entire world hadn’t been rattled by the last few minutes.

I took his hand and let him lead me upstairs to our hallway. My breath caught when he bypassed his door to walk me to mine.

I was fumbling with my key, trying to figure out whether he expected to be invited in, when he spun me around and pressed

me gently against the door.

“You’re sending me right into the rabbit hole, you know,” I whispered, trying to resist the urge to look over his shoulder

and see if anyone could see us. His lips were so close to mine I could feel his breath, and the anticipation was setting my

skin on fire.

“Then I should go before I make it any worse,” he said, just as quiet, backing away at the exact moment I found myself leaning

in, my eyes starting to close. I released the breath trapped in my chest, though it came out more like a huff. His laugh occupied

the space between us, and I let my head drop back against my door.

“Be careful what you wish for.” He smiled, walking toward his room.

“Only one of us is the wishing type,” I said, “so I could say the same to you.”

“I don’t have to be careful,” he said, unlocking his own door. “I know exactly what I want.”

His door closed behind him before I could say another word, and I stood pressed against my own, trying to regulate my breathing.

What the hell had I just gotten myself into?