Love Like This (The Romance Chronicles—Book #1)
Page 11
“And what happens next? Will you keep in touch?”
“I’m taking her home with me,” the man replied. “Back to Dublin.”
Keira laughed, thinking he was joking. But when she looked at the woman she realized by her expression that he was deadly serious. Had she met this couple at the beginning of her stay she would have scoffed at them, thought them irrational, illogical. But now after everyone she’d met and everything she’d seen, she found herself rooting for them, wanting everything to work out for them.
She snapped her notebook shut. This was useless. She was never going to get the material she needed for her article.
“Thanks, guys,” she said to the couple. “I wish you both the best of luck.”
But they seemed to have already forgotten about her, their eyes only for each other.
Keira went back to the B&B. The detour to Shane’s house had been a bad idea. It had taken lots of time out of the time she devoted to the festival, and she had hardly left herself any time to write.
Her phone began ringing and she saw that Bryn was calling.
“Hey, lil sis,” she said when Keira answered. “I’m so, so sorry about Zach.”
It already felt like a lifetime ago that she’d been dumped. Had it really just been one day?
“I think I might be over it,” Keira said.
Bryn started cackling. “Nice. Do you need me to go over to the apartment and collect some stuff for you?”
It hadn’t yet occurred to Keira that she wasn’t just single, but homeless. She’d have to find somewhere new to live when she got back to New York City.
“That would be great if you could,” Keira said.
“You really don’t sound as upset as I was expecting,” Bryn said suspiciously. “Is something going on?”
Keira flopped onto the bed and sighed. There was no point keeping it from Bryn. “It’s Shane. I think I’m falling for him.”
“Oh. Wow. Really?”
“Yeah.”
“You just mean that you want to sleep with him, right?”
“No, I mean I want to be with him. His partner. We just spent the day with his family and it was so much fun. I fell in love with the place, with them. He has six sisters. Six! And they’re all amazing. But his youngest sister is sixteen. Her name is Hannah. I think we really connected, you know. There was a real bond there.”
Bryn was silent. Then, “Keira, you’ve known him less than a week. And he’s already had a one-night stand in that time. You can’t trust this guy.”
“What?” Keira snapped. “I thought you of all people would be encouraging me.”
“To have a rebound fling, sure,” Bryn said. “Not to go from being tied down to some jerk to being tied down to another. You don’t even live in the same country. It would never work.”
Keira sighed, irritated.
“I don’t mean to be the harbinger of bad news all the time,” Bryn added. “But it’s my duty as your sister to call you out on this stuff. You like Shane because he’s a sexy, Irish, mountain-climbing, fiddle-playing bloke. He’s fling material. End of. He’s probably good for a few rolls around in the sack and nothing more. And I’m sorry if you think he wants anything different from you, Keira, because he doesn’t. He knows how to play the system. You already said so yourself.”
It hit Keira then that Bryn was right. She’d been getting carried away with herself. She knew guys like Shane back in America. They were the kinds of guys Bryn went on dates with. She’d been burned so many times thinking a guy was really into her when he was actually really into the idea of sleeping with her. Shane was a player, she’d already seen evidence of it.
“Keira?” Bryn asked.
“Sorry. I’m just… I guess you’re right. Maybe he only seems great because Zach’s been such a jerk.”
“See?” Bryn said. “Flirt away with him, sis. Have your fun. Just don’t think it’s more than it is.”
With her sister’s sage advice streaming through her head, Keira ended the call and got to work on some writing. She tried to emulate the snarky tone she’d captured so well on her first night here, but even as she read over the first draft she couldn’t reconcile herself with the person she’d been back then. She closed her eyes and thought of Zach, of how angry she was at him, and tried to channel those emotions into her writing, but to no avail.
An email came through from Joshua, with just one simple word: Update?
The pressure certainly wasn’t helping. She shuffled over to the window and tried to eavesdrop on some of the conversations taking place on the streets beneath her, tried to conjure up her irritation during those first few sleep-deprived evenings when the noise had kept her awake. But it was useless. Even the disgusting wallpaper now just seemed quaint to her. All the chatter was more like soothing white noise rather than grating.
She closed her eyes and immediately saw Shane’s face floating into her vision. Then she heard a noise coming from the window beside her. Her eyes snapped open and she looked left just in time to see a pebble hit the window. Down in the street, bathed in moonlight, stood Shane.
Shocked, Keira pulled open the window.
“You ran off without saying goodbye,” he called up to her.
“I’m sorry,” she called back down, acutely aware of how much her heart was racing. How could she tell him she’d needed space? That she was finding it hard to tear herself away from him but desperately needed to get some work done?
“Well, are you saying goodnight now or are you coming down for the next horse race?” Shane shouted.
With his new trimmed beard and styled hair, none of his gorgeous features were obscured. Bryn’s warning repeated in Keira’s mind, not to get to close, to have fun but not to fall for this guy.
Fun. She deserved that, right?
Keira leapt out of her seat. “I’m coming,” she called down.
She shut the window hurriedly, excited to be reunited with Shane. Then she snapped her laptop closed, shutting away Joshua’s demanding email.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Keira spent the rest of the evening in a happy daze. There was something about being in Shane’s company that made her feel carefree and relaxed. It was exciting to have someone to flirt with, to feel those tingles of desire, even if it felt like her work was suffering as a result.
The next day he took her to the annual Irish Barbecue Championships, an event that turned out to be very conducive to writing, since it was filled with competitive men trying to impress single women with little more than their ability to shovel copious amounts of meat into their mouths.
After several hours at the Barbecue Championships, it became impossible to tell apart the pink-faced, round-bellied, mucky-mouthed males from the pigs they were munching on. If a drunk female walks home with her arm slung around a hog roast declaring her undying love, I don’t think I’ll even be surprised.
When Nina received that update email—along with some accompanying photographs that Keira had taken of a group of chubby, drunk guys holding up barbecued chickens thighs, looking somewhere between cheery and menacing—she was thrilled.
More of this, please! Except I want to see what would happen if you dated one of them. Time to get your hands dirty, Keira!
The thought of dating one of those oafish lads repulsed Keira. So she found the next best thing: Lisdoonvarna’s Speed Dating Event! She’d never done anything like speed dating. The thought of it made her cringe. And this was speed dating on a massive scale. Fifty participants! It took her two large sauvignon blancs to build up the courage to do more than just observe and take notes. But once she took the plunge, she discovered it a far quicker route to procuring usable information. Nina was right, getting her hands dirty was a good approach.
Keira had three minutes to speak to each man before a bell was rung to signal that they needed to move on. By the end she’d got her opening gambit down to a simple, “I’m a reporter. This is a tape recorder. Okay?”
It ended up being se
veral grueling hours of listening to men drone on about their various careers, their hopes, their dreams.
Each face melds into the next. I’m certain I’ve already spoken to Craig, the plumber from Dublin. But no, that is Craig, sitting across the hall from me, presumably repeating his spiel about being good with his hands to a woman who looks as equally unimpressed with him as I was. Which means this is a different man I’m talking to. “I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name,” I admit. This is Carl. He’s also a plumber from Dublin. And he is to be just one of dozens of plumbers I meet that evening...
Nina responded just as positively to that piece. Bryn, on the other hand, replied with, You should have gone for it, sis. I bet that Craig guy really is good with his hands.
When the speed dating event ended, Keira was supposed to partake in some dancing while the organizers tabulated the yes matches, but she skipped out on that bit. She didn’t feel like dancing with any Craigs or Carls, or any plumbers, Dublin based or otherwise. Because there was someone else she wanted to spend the evening dancing beside. And even though she pretended the reason she decided against collecting her list of successful matches was because she was worried that no one would have put her name down as a yes, it was really because she was only interested in one specific man’s opinion of her.
*
Keira wondered, as she looked across the bar at Orin, whether this was what it was like to have a father. It was the end of the second week of her trip and the two of them were munching on their breakfast of toast, egg, and sausage; something that had become a ritual for the two of them. Since the rest of the B&B guests came and went, Keira’s consistency allowed for a father-daughter friendship to blossom between them. Her own father had left while she’d still been young so she’d never had the chance to find out what that would feel like.
“Where are you and Shane off to today?” Orin asked, setting his coffee down in its saucer.
At the mention of his name, Keira felt a warm feeling spread through her. Nothing had happened between them. Not externally, anyway. Emotionally things seemed to be deepening. Their connection seemed to grow stronger every time they met. Keira found herself looking forward to seeing him each day, anticipating their next excursion with excitement. It felt like each passing day brought her further away from Zachary and pushed her closer to Shane.
Keira checked her notes. “We’re going to Dingle,” she said. Then looking up, she added, “Or is that a joke?” She never really knew when it came to Shane.
Orin chuckled. “There’s a place called Dingle, all right. Beautiful spot. You’ll love it.”
Keira didn’t think she’d ever get over these funny names. She’d filled her phone up with photos of street names and town signs, sending them to Bryn and Nina indiscriminately.
Just then, Keira felt her phone vibrate and checked to see she’d received an email from Joshua. She groaned to herself. His pestering was becoming unbearable. He shouldn’t even be awake at this time; it would be the early hours of the morning in New York City! It must be the crazy sleep-wake schedule his painkillers were causing.
Keira, you’ve been in Ireland for two weeks and have sent me barely anything. Mere paragraphs. Simple sentences. Where’s the story?!? I don’t care how “good” Nina says your little schemes are if you can’t transform it into a compelling narrative. If I could fire you and take over, I’d have this assignment done in a matter of days. You’re just exploiting the fact I’m in a position where I need you to write this piece. But don’t forget there’s always future assignments, Keira. We’ll be in that boardroom together again soon enough and once we are I will use everything in my power to get you kicked off Viatorum and never work again!!
Keira quickly stashed her phone away. She’d started to get used to these kind of abusive messages from him, and their impact was lessening somewhat. Plus, Joshua was far less scary on the other end of an email than he was in person. Not having to actually be face to face with him while receiving his verbal bashings made him far easier to ignore. But she wouldn’t be able to carry on like this indefinitely. Ignoring her boss was a short-term solution to the very real and long-term problem of her having written very little of value so far. She was dreading the day he decided to actually pick up the phone to berate her. It certainly couldn’t be too far in the future now...
“I should try to get some writing done before Shane arrives,” Keira told Orin.
This had become another one of their rituals. Breakfast, then Keira going upstairs to “get some writing done” before heading off with Shane for another “tour of Ireland.” Except really what she was doing after breakfast was sitting in her room staring at her laptop until Shane arrived to whisk her away for what was to all intents and purposes a date.
Orin nodded, accommodating as ever. Keira went up to her room.
She sat by the window, looking out at the cobbled street below and the signs of last night’s party still fluttering in the wind, her laptop sitting closed on the desk beside her. For a recently dumped women who was a hair’s-breadth away from getting fired she felt incredibly happy with the way her life was going.
Keira opened her document, the one that consisted of the initial rant she’d written followed by notes and unusable interviews. There was also a long passage she’d written about her heartbreak over Zachary, although she could hardly even recognize herself in the writing anymore. Those feelings had already faded away. As much as she was loath to admit it, Joshua had actually made the right call when he trashed her idea of incorporating the breakup into the piece.
Yet he was still demanding this be a personal account. Which basically meant Keira had to pretend to hate it here, to still believe that romance was dead and love just a relic of centuries gone by. But lying was easier said than done. With her fingers hovering over the keyboard, Keira just could not bring any words to mind. All she could think about were the couple who won the horse and cart race, the divorced man at the bar, Shane’s parents and their everlasting affection. Romance. Love. It was everywhere. And she was falling for it.
What she really needed was to find someone lonely who she could channel when writing. Just then, Keira had a sudden moment of inspiration. Leaving her laptop behind, she rushed downstairs to find Orin. He was reading his newspaper at the bar, their empty breakfast plates still laid out in front of him.
“That was quick,” he joked when he looked up and saw Keira striding toward him. “Didn’t get much done, I take it?”
Keira took the bar stool opposite him. “I was wondering, actually, whether I might be able to ask you what your story is.”
Orin frowned and put down his newspaper. “My story? What story?”
“Your romantic history,” Keira said. “You work here alone. No wife, right?”
“So you noticed,” Orin quipped.
“Well, what’s the deal there?” Keira asked. “What’s your story? I mean every year you get overrun by attendees to the Festival of Love. But you have nobody to love yourself.”
Orin’s expression became suddenly downcast; his lack of luck in love was evidently something that got him down.
Keira felt a flicker of relief to know that at least someone in this town was unlucky in love. Maybe there was still a chance to turn this all around. If she put herself into the mindset of Orin, for whom love had eluded, perhaps she’d be able to capture the voice Joshua needed from her for the article. She could play a character. At least that might ease some of the guilt she felt about having to bash this place in her article.
“I never married,” Orin said, glumly. “Never found the right girl.”
Keira suppressed her smile, but secretly she was filled with glee to know that she was finally getting some material.
“Was William never able to match you?” she asked.
Orin shook his head. “He tried, all right. But I’m picky, Keira. I’d meet a nice girl but then something would ruin it, something silly would start to bother me. I’d break up with her and g
o back to William and say, ‘yes, that was close but can you make sure the next one doesn’t bite her nails?’ Then William would find me one that didn’t bite her nails and I’d say, ‘yes, close, but can you find me one that doesn’t dye her hair?’ On and on like that until suddenly I’m sixty and alone.”
Keira nodded, keeping her expression somewhere between neutral and sympathetic. She scribbled Orin’s story down in her notebook and tried to think of ways to work his narrative into the narrative she needed to create.
“So the idea of The One never came true for you,” Keira pressed. “When did you decide it was never going to happen?”
Orin looked puzzled. “I haven’t given up.” He seemed a bit affronted by the suggestion. “I’m still holding onto hope.” Then his expression became even sadder as he added, “Do you think that’s foolish of me?”
Keira looked at him, torn between getting the inspiration she needed and comforting her friend. She sighed and put her notebook down. “That’s not foolish. Not at all.”
“You don’t think that maybe love isn’t for everyone?” Orin asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes. “That maybe not everyone can be happy?”
Keira shook her head and gazed at him sympathetically. “I think that William can work miracles if you just give him the chance.” She realized as she said it that she actually believed it. The matchmaker’s successes were everywhere. He’d made a living from it. More importantly, he’d made hundreds of people happy and content. “I think there’s someone for everyone,” she added. “Maybe sometimes it’s just about waiting for the right moment to meet them.”
Just then, the door opened and in walked Shane. Keira sat bolt upright, almost startled by his appearance at that exact moment. It felt a bit too coincidental.
He was wearing a white top with a cartoon bear on it and jeans. Simple, yet gorgeous. Keira couldn’t stop herself from swooning. She’d taken to wearing a thicker foundation just to hide her blushes when he was around.