“Sure seemed like that’s what was happening.”
“I just needed … I just needed to get away. From the edge.”
“Do you have a fear of heights?”
He shakes his head. “No. Just a fear of horrible death.”
“You do realize you make no sense at all.”
He nods. “I can see how ye’d think that.”
“And yet you don’t feel the need to explain yourself.” I tilt my head, curious about what makes this man tick. He’s like no one I’ve ever met before, and I’m wondering if it’s an Irish thing or a Donal thing.
“Maybe another time,” he says.
“When?”
He shrugs. “I hear ye’re leaving in less than a week.”
I nod, knowing when I’m beat. “Yep. That’s me. The girl who’s leaving in a week.” I look past Donal and sigh. “Where did those two get to, anyway? I need to get back. I’m tired.” I fake a big yawn to bring home the point.
“Wait here,” Donal says, turning around and walking away, “I’ll go find them.”
I get into the car and clench my teeth together really hard to keep myself from crying. Stupid Guinness. It totally turns me into a blubbering, idiot, fool. I hate that I thought Donal was into me when he clearly isn’t. One-sided crushes suck worse than tequila hangovers.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ERIN
MORNING LIGHT BEGINS TO TUG at my eyelids but I keep them closed, savoring instead those few moments of bliss when I can just daydream about Micheál uninterrupted. I recall how he’d draped his arm casually round my shoulders as we walked along the cliff’s edge and how when I shrugged him off all faux offended he’d pulled me close and said gruffly that he wasn’t going to let me get away. I’d liked how that sounded, though of course I didn’t let him know that. I thought of the way he’d taken off his jacket and put it on me, holding it out for me like a real gentleman, one arm then the other. That had been followed by a ski hat he’d pulled out of his pocket, then gloves, then a huge scarf he’d wrapped around and around my neck and head, until all that could be seen of me was the tip of my nose.
“That’s better,” he’d said, kissing the cold tip.
I giggle at the memory and feel the flush of desire swim through my body. My hips grind into the mattress as I recall bits of that night we spent on the island.
“Good, you’re awake,” says Ridlee, shattering my salacious meanderings.
I frown and reluctantly open my eyes. “Good morning to you too.” I try to rub the sleep away.
“Yeah, yeah, rise and shine an all that,” she says folding clothes and placing them carefully in her suitcase. We haven’t actually booked our flight home, so this packing business is making me a tad nervous. She’s clearly pissed off about something. Time to needle her.
“Did someone get out of bed on the wrong side this morning?” I ask, half playfully, half defensively.
She doesn’t answer.
I can’t help myself, I have to pick the scab I know is forming over the Donal situation. It’s what we do for one another. We don’t let the bastards get us down; it’s kind of our motto. “What’s up? Wouldn’t Donny jump for you last night?” I yawn loudly.
“Put a sock in it, Erin. Let’s just get this bar business figured out and get back to Boston. I’ve got a life waiting for me, you know. And in case you’ve forgotten, you have a business deal to make.”
“Okay, okay, keep your hair on,” I say pushing back the cover and hauling myself out of bed. Ridlee continues to tidy up, barely looking at anything but her suitcase. She’s really upset.
Getting out of bed to go to the bathroom I swoop in and plant a kiss on her cheek. “You’re too good for him, ye know. He’s just some country hick. If he can’t see how awesome you are, fuck him.” I am trying to make her feel better, so I’m more than a little taken aback when she bursts into tears, plonking herself down on the corner of the bed.
“Rid, what is it?” I get down on my honkers and push the hair back from her face. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ridlee cry in all the years I’ve known her. “What is it, honey? Did that fucker hurt you? ‘Cause if he so much as laid a finger…”
“No! It’s nothing like that. He didn’t. He wouldn’t.” She brushed away the tears with the back of her hand and sniffed, trying to smile. “It’s not him, it’s me. Hormones.”
I search her face for clues. I have known this girl a long time and she has been enviously impervious to the harrowing effects of hormones over the years. “Hormones?” I ask, my voice laced with skepticism.
“Yeah. Oh, and I broke the heel of my Jimmy Choos,” she hiccups.
I rub her back getting to my feet. “Can I get you a glass of water? Tea? Me?”
Ridlee smiles, brighter and wider, back on form. “Alright, Erin, panic over; no need to go all Florence Nightingale on me.”
She makes to get up, but I grab her in a bear hug and wrestle her down into the sheets and blankets of my bed. “You know I wuv u, Rid-leeeeee!” I’m hugging her with all my might. Only when I am convinced that she’s laughing with real abandon do I abandon her for the shower.
“Hurry up!” she yells after me, “we’ve got to see that lawyer guy at 9 am.”
“Solicitor!” I remind her.
“We’ll see if he’s cute first before we decide to solicit anything.”
I laugh and step into the shower in the adjoining bathroom, pouring Ridlee’s expensive shower gel all over me. Sure it does not harm to smell your best, I tell myself. Never know who you might meet in the course of a day in Lisdoonvarna. I smile allowing myself one last little indulgence about the amazing Micheál as I lather up.
After a hearty breakfast, we’re back in the Bambino and on our way to see Mr. Cathal O’ Mooney. With a bit of luck we can get the bar business sorted out with this Padraig O’Flanagan and I might even have time to catch up with Micheál for lunch, I think to myself with a smile. It’s just a fling, just a fling, I chant silently. Throwing the Bambino round s-bends like a rally racecar driver, I glance at Ridlee who is gazing forlornly at the cows and sheep we pass in the fields. I have never seen her moon over a guy like this before. Obviously, I didn’t buy the broken boot story. She has got the hots bad for Donal, no doubt about it. Poor, Rid; she’s in over her head.
My mind settles on Micheál for a moment. What the hell am I doing? Chasing a guy who lives thousands of miles away, and an Irish guy at that! I should have known that something like this would happen. I should never have brought Rid here. What has happened to us? We pride ourselves on being modern women. We don’t go cuckoo over guys and lose sight of our goals. We rely on each other and the boys are, well, toys for the most part. Neither of us has been in a serious relationship; Ridlee was seeing Jeremy for over a month, but I don’t think that constitutes a serious relationship, does it? Especially when it was clear even to the casual observer that she was just using him for sex.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror, brow furrowed, and immediately relax my face. No way am I getting early wrinkles for a guy. I look at Ridlee who has her hand resting in her chin and is staring longingly at the passing landscape. “Forty shades of green,” she murmurs.
“Huh?”
“That’s what they say about the greenery of Ireland. Forty shades of green. Because of the rain.” She doesn’t even look at me while she’s talking.
“Who told you that?” I enquire, looking from the road to her and back to the road again.