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He nods. “I like to cook. That’s what makes Siobhán and me perfect flatmates; she hates cooking.”

“Lucky Siobhán.” I have renewed admiration for the girl.

The lunch is amazing and a little later on, as the afternoon sun is beginning its retreat, I’m lying across Micheál’s stomach enjoying the sound of the sea and his steady presence. I get up on my elbow. “One more surf?”

He looks out at the waves. “I dunno, it’s getting kinda late.”

“Go on! I won’t get another chance, maybe ever…” My bottom lip protrudes slightly.

“Ah, go on then. How can I say no to that? Race ye!”

We grab the boards and are in the water before we even have time to register the cold. I paddle out, determined to break my last record and catch an even bigger wave. I think of Siobhán which spurs me on, even though I know it’s ridiculous to even try to compete with her.

There’s a nice series of waves coming in. I paddle furiously and pounce into a crouch position. So far so good. Biting my lip in concentration, I get into standing position and manage to stay on. The wave is big and I feel as though I’m going even faster than last time. I shriek with joy.

But then I see another surfer coming my way on another wave. What do I do?

He’s screaming at me, waving his arms.

I do nothing.

I stand there frozen but flying through space, that is until his board clips the top of mine as he passes.

I’m thrown up in the air, and the last thing I see is my board coming down after me. Then wallop! I try to keep my eyes open but I can’t. I’m tumbling down through the surf. My last thought is a calm one. I’m going to drown.

But I’m wrong; I’m not going to drown today because I’m with Micheál. He dives into the water and follows the line of my leash pulling me back up to the surface. I’m coughing and spluttering and my lungs are burning.

He just keeps repeating “It’s okay. Ye’re okay,” over and over again. He leaves one arm on the board and the other on me, paddling us back in. When we get to shore he carries me up onto dry sand and lays me down gently. The lifeguard is there with his first-aid kit.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” I try to say, embarrassed to have gotten into this situation.

Micheál is looking down at me, his face tight with concern.

I have a bit of a bump on my head, but they check me out and I’m declared fit enough to go home via the local doctor to rule out concussion. I agree and Micheál helps me to the truck. I do admittedly feel like shit.

The doctor checks my pupils and asks me a lot of questions and says that I should be okay to return to the B&B, but that he’s to be called if there are any changes overnight. Mrs. O’Grady makes a big fuss and Ridlee cannot do enough for me, even though I have returned without her clothes.

I feel very spoilt and very loved, and when it comes to saying goodnight to my knight in shining armour I’m quite gooey inside. I walk him to the front door of the B&B.

“Sorry for wrecking our date.” I tilt my chin up to his.

“Sorry for nearly killin’ ye.” He brushes his lips against mine.

“And I’m sorry about the business, too. I didn’t really know what to say earlier. It’s your baby. You’ve built it up and you might lose it. I do know how that feels.”

“Ah, don’t worry about me. In fact, I got an interesting offer yesterday from Cathal downstairs, that might get us on our way to being debt-free. An old friend of my grandfather’s has left me some money. Some kind of business, but apparently it’s not so great, so I’m selling my share.” He kisses me again. “Anyway, you just concentrate on getting a good night’s rest. Sweet dreams.” And with that he turns and walks toward the truck.

“Micheál! What’s your last name?” I ask, terrified of the answer.

“Flanagan!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

RIDLEE

WHEN ERIN HAS SOMETHING ON her mind that’s torturing her, there’s no escaping it for anyone. She had a great day with her man Michaél yesterday, and yet I have a strong suspicion her worries are about him. I really don’t want to know the details, because something tells me she’s going to whine and whine hard. I’ve asked her what’s wrong. So far she’s brushed me off with Oh, nothing and It’s just a mood, but I know she’s going to blow. I take another bite of bacon, building up my fortitude for the event that’s sure to take place at any moment.

She sighs long and loud for the hundredth time of the morning and I keep on reading the newspaper, using it as a shield between us. I foolishly think that if she can’t make eye contact, she won’t bring up the subject of whatever is making her act like a tortured, lovesick schoolgirl. I think my sadness over Donal is turning me into a cold-hearted bitch. I suppose the silver lining is it’ll make me a tougher lawyer when I get back home, but that doesn’t make me feel any better for some reason.

“Are ye feeling well, lass?” Mrs. O’Grady asks, putting her hand on Erin’s forehead.

Erin turns up the pity party tone in her voice. “Oh, I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t sound it. You’re having a hard time with yer lungs from the sound of all the wheezin’ you’re doin’ this mornin’.” Her tone turns disapproving. “Imagine bringin’ ye surfing in the sea of all things.” She snorts. “In my day, a man would no sooner take you for a frolic in the freezing cold water than he’d ask ye to roll around in the barn hay.” She pauses and lowers her voice. “Unless of course ye’re Maude O’Leary, but ye know, she was always game for just about anything and didn’t all the lads know it. Let’s just say she earned her name and leave it at that.”

I lean over and whisper in Erin’s ear as Mrs. O’Grady runs the sink water. “I think she’s calling you a slut.” I resist the urge to giggle as I hide behind my paper.

“Well, you know, the world has changed a bit since you were dating,” Erin says, sounding prickly.

“Don’t I know it,” Mrs. O’Grady says, coming back to the table with a fresh pot of tea. She pours for both of us. “Taking liberties. Slap and tickle. I know all the things men do. Ye should watch out, girlies. They’re only after one thing, ye know.”

Erin knocks me in the hand. “Can I talk to you upstairs for a minute?”

I look over my paper at Mrs. O’Grady. She has the teapot on the table and her hands on her hips.

“Ye haven’t eaten a thing! Ye’ll waste away to nothin’ if you miss yer breakfast.”

Erin stands. “Don’t worry, Mrs. O. I’ve got plenty of extra breakfasts stored in my bum fat.”

I quickly stand, knowing if I let this go on much longer, we’re going to have a real cat fight on our hands.

Mrs. O’Grady’s voice follows us out the door.

“Well, I never…”

We walk out into the hall and I push Erin towards the front door, wanting to avoid any eavesdropping. As we walk outside, I wrap my arms around myself, very sorry that I neglected to grab one of the granny sweaters hanging by the door.

Erin does the same. “Thanks for rescuing me from that old hag.”

“She’s not an old hag. You’re just in a cranky mood.”

“You’re right. I am. But I have good reason to be.”

I sigh. “Okay, fine. Out with it.” The wicked cold wind whips through my hair, making me wish I’d put on a hat too. The snarls are going to be awful.

“Out with what?” She sneaks a glance at me before going back to staring at the sidewalk. We’re both leaning into the wind, trying to keep all of our body heat from being stolen away.