Chapter Thirty

Eamon

The sun is just beginning to rise by the time I finish telling Norah about my sister. Naturally, she has so many questions since I've only briefly mentioned Caity before in our conversations about family. I'd spoken more of my Mam, but even that was minimal.

"Oh my god, Eamon," she says quietly. "I'm so sorry. This is awful. I bet your Mom is beside herself."

I nod solemnly. "I knew I'd have to go back to Ireland at some point, I just wasn't planning on it for a while, and certainly not for this reason. But I can't leave her alone to deal with Caity."

Although that's exactly what I did when I left, wasn't it? The thought chokes me with guilt.

"You're a good man, Eamon Kennedy," Norah says, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead, making the guilt fester even more. I don't feel like a good man right now. "I imagine your Mom feels so relieved to know you're going to be there."

" We are going to be there, Acushla," I correct her. "I'm sorry we have to cancel our getaway though. Maybe we can reschedule it soon."

"Are you kidding?" She scoffs. "You're taking me to Ireland with you. I know it's not for fun, but I get to be with you in Ireland ."

She's trying so hard to be reserved for me, but I can see the absolute delight shining through her eyes and I never want to see it dull.

Pulling her into the crook of my arm, I kiss her temple and say, "A trip to my hometown to take care of my Ma and drug addict sister is not nearly as enticing as spending a week alone with you on the beach. Especially when I envisioned you naked or mostly naked for the week."

She lets out a snort of amusement. "Do I need to remind you that even though it's a beach, it is December ? I'm not sure how often I'd be in a bikini."

"Ah, but the rental has a hot tub, remember? The things I want to do with you in any body of water…," I trail off.

She leans in to kiss me before saying, "Surely there's a body of water somewhere in Ireland that you could make good on your threats."

"December in Ireland is much colder than December in North Carolina, love. I wouldn't be able to do anything with you because my cock would shrivel up and die from the freezing water," I pout at her. "Surely you wouldn't wish that on me?"

"Hmm. Good point. Well, you'll have to find a way to make it up to me then," she says, then gets up and heads to the coffee pot.

I watch her for a minute. "Acushla?"

She looks over her shoulder at me. "Yeah?"

"I love you."

A small smile forms on her lips, "I love you too."

"Thank you for coming with me. I don't think I could go without you. For a multitude of reasons," I say earnestly.

She starts the coffee pot before padding back to the couch and sitting on my lap again .

"You don't need to thank me, Eamon. You aren't letting me face my demons alone, so why would I let you do the same?"

"You're so perfect," I say thickly. "How did I get so lucky?"

"Well, you are Irish…" she begins, but I quickly silence her with my mouth.

"I'm not a fucking leprechaun, you cheeky fire sprite," I growl against her lips.

Laughing, she pushes me away and climbs off of my lap. "Why don't you book our flight and I'll make us breakfast?"

I slap her arse playfully as she walks away, earning a shriek, then get to work booking our flight. I also need to cancel our reservation for the beach rental, but a thought occurs to me. I quickly send an email to the owner, explaining the situation and requesting to put the reservation in Teagan's name. As I'm typing out the email, my phone buzzes with an incoming text message on the table next to my laptop. I cringe when I see not only the name of the sender but the number of messages they've already sent. Of course, she'd know about Caity already.

Small towns don't have secrets.

Norah

The soonest, and cheapest, flight Eamon could find is a red eye leaving Raleigh at nine o'clock tonight with a three-hour layover at London Heathrow. I'm not complaining though. The flight to Dublin takes roughly eight hours, and we're already exhausted from our late night and early morning wake-up call. Sleeping on the flight should help with the jet lag. By the time we reach Eamon's hometown, it will be early afternoon.

"How are you feeling?" I ask him while sitting at the gate waiting to board. He's been understandably quiet since arriving at the airport.

"Other than completely bushed? I'm not sure," he admits with a grimace. "I'm anxious but excited to see my ma, though."

I bring our intertwined hands to my lips and kiss his knuckles. "She's going to be so happy. I'm proud of you for doing this."

Eamon's mouth tips up in a small smile, then falters.

"What's wrong?"

He sighs deeply. "There's a good chance that we'll run into my ex. Are you prepared for that?"

"Are you? I'm not worried about her." I shrug. "She made her choice, and you're mine now."

"Aye, that I am, Acushla," he agrees, pressing a kiss to my temple. "I'm not worried. Just apprehensive. I think it will be harder seeing Declan, to be honest."

I nod though I don't really know. I can't even imagine how I'd feel about being around an ex who cheated on me with my best friend, but I'd like to think if I was in another committed relationship with someone that I loved, I wouldn't care.

"Do you think they'll try to see you while you're home?"

Eamon leans his head back onto the chair. "It's hard to say. Since they live next door, it will be pretty hard to avoid them."

A voice calls out over the PA system before I can respond, announcing that our flight is now boarding. Once we've stowed our bags, we settle into our seats and mindlessly watch the flight attendant instruct us what to do in case of an emergency as the plane is taxiing towards the runway. It's not long before we're in the sky, jetting towards the Green Isle. I should be trying to sleep, but I'm jittery with excitement. I can't wait to be in Ireland again, even if the circumstances are horrid. For me, a bad day in Ireland beats a good day anywhere else.

Eamon places a hand on my knee, squeezing gently. "You're about to fidget out of your seat. Are you nervous?"

"No." I laugh. "I'm excited. I realize that sounds pretty awful considering the reason for going, but I can't help it. I've been waiting so long to go back. I know you don't love it like I do, so I'll try to contain my excitement."

"Norah," he says, angling his body towards mine as much as the small seats will allow. "It's fine. Really. I may not appreciate it the same as you, but I do love Ireland. It's my home. What I love most though is that I get to take you with me. When we were doing dishes at Paddy's that night and you were going on about your trip, I could picture you there, and all I wanted at that moment was to experience it with you. To watch your face as you immerse yourself in my world. It's not a real holiday, what with Caity and all, but I promise I will make time for us to explore properly."

He said once that I was perfect, but he's wrong. It's not me. It's him. Eamon is everything good in the world. The way he loves me is unlike anything I've ever experienced. "As much as I want that," I say, laying my hand on top of his, "you need to focus on your Mom and sister. I'll be there to help out in whatever way you need. I knew this wasn't going to be a vacation."

"How about this," he bargains. "We'll just take one day at a time, yeah? Today, or tonight rather, let's try to rest. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day."

"Deal," I agree with a smile before resting my head on his shoulder.

By some miracle, we both managed to sleep a good portion of the flight. When the plane lands in Dublin, it's chilly, but the sun is shining brightly. Eamon is quiet as we navigate the airport and go through customs. His shoulders are tense, and his anxiety is radiating off of him, but he seems to be handling it well as long as he has a task to focus on. It's similar to watching him on the soccer field. The pressure motivates him and keeps him grounded.

We gather our luggage and head towards the rental car area. His Mom offered to pick us up, but he insisted on getting a separate car. I think part of him just doesn't want the first reunion with his mother in four years to be in an airport. Once we have the key to the rental, Eamon loads our suitcases in the back and we climb in. It takes him a minute to reacquaint himself with driving a European car, but as he tells me, it's like riding a bike. Once you learn, you don't unlearn it.

"Alright, love," he says. "Mam said she would be at home for a shower by the time we reach Kilkenny, so we'll head there after our first stop—breakfast."

"Yes, please," I yawn. "And coffee. Lots of coffee."

"Yer in Ireland now, Acushla. It's tea you'll be having." His accent seems to be thicker now that he's back on his home turf, and it's sexy as hell.

"Listen, Kennedy. I don't care what country I'm in. Coffee will always come first," I say, glaring playfully at him. "And I know for a fact that I can get coffee in Ireland."

Eamon gapes at me in mock horror. "That's sacrilege right there. You better not let my mam hear you talk like that."

I roll my eyes as I reach up to tighten my ponytail. "Just keep your eyes on the road, mister."

He laughs loudly. "Are you nervous, Norah? Worried I'll drive us right off the M50?"

"Oh, c'mon. You can't tell me that this isn't completely insane compared to the States! I'm on the verge of having a panic attack. Are there even any traffic laws here?"

"Alright, I'll admit it's a little more…complex than back in North Carolina, but there is a method to the madness," he says soothingly.

"And that method is what? Try not to die?"

Eamon laughs again and reaches to grab my hand. I snatch it away from him. "Oh no, both hands on the wheel."

"Calm down, Grady. I'm not going to get us killed. Why would I drag you all the way across the Atlantic just to end us as soon as we land?" he asks, purposefully grabbing my hand and not letting go. "Trust me, Norah."

I hesitate before taking a deep breath. "Okay, you're right. I'm sorry. I do trust you."

"Good. Now, just relax and take in the sights."

So that's what I did. Rather than watching the highway fill with speeding cars, I soak in my surroundings. The excitement I felt earlier floods back in, overshadowing the anxiety I was feeling over our impending doom . I'm in Ireland again, and it's just as beautiful as I remember. Everything is so green. So alive. The architecture of the buildings never ceases to amaze me and the brightly colored doors of the dwellings lining the streets make the smile on my face grow. I think I'll paint my front door when we get home.

Occasionally, Eamon points out something that was a part of his childhood. A football field where he played regular tournaments during his school days. A restaurant his family loved. A historical site that the history teacher in him just has to share, recounting all of the stories that have circulated through the ages. I learn a little more about him with each memory he relives for me. It's a surprisingly intimate experience. My first time in Ireland was incredible, but being here with Eamon, knowing how much I love him, makes it all the sweeter.

I think back to my first conversation with Paddy after discovering O'Nelly's. "I'm going to find my husband in Ireland," I'd told him. I'm sure I sounded both ignorant and arrogant. But now, I turn to look at Eamon, admiring his profile, and wonder if maybe that dream will become a reality.

Eventually, we turn down a narrow street lined with a variety of shops and cafes. Eamon pulls into the small parking lot of a quaint place called Sealed With A Quiche.

"That's clever," I remark, pointing at the name.

"Aye, and if I remember correctly, their quiche is quite good. Shall we?" he asks, turning to face me.

Stepping out of the car, we make our way to the door. Eamon holds it open for me and ushers me in with a hand on the small of my back. The inside of the cafe is just as cute as the name with antique quiche pans lining the pale yellow walls, painted in a rainbow of colors. There's an array of eclectic cafe tables scattered around the room in no particular pattern. Each one is adorned with a small teapot filled with flowers, a sugar bowl, and a milk carafe all nestled on a tray in the center.

"Mornin', loves!" a tall older woman calls as she walks through a swinging door carrying a tray of baked goods. "Grab yourselves a table. I'll be right over."

I turn to Eamon. "This place is adorable! Have you been here often?"

"Only a few times when I had a match up here," he says, leading me to a table near the front window.

I sit on the edge of my seat and lean in. "Thank you for bringing me here."

His mouth tips up on one side in response.

"Alright, yous, thanks a million for waitin' on me," the lady from behind the counter interrupts as she walks towards our table. "I'm Moira. Can I start ya a cuppa?"

"Aye, grand," Eamon answers. "And a coffee for you, Acushla?"

"Yes, please," I say with a smile.

"Ach, an American!" Moira says knowingly. "Is it your first time visiting, love?"

"No, I've been one other time, but it's been several years."

"Just couldn't stay away, could ya?" Moira asks with a wink.

"Definitely not. It's lovely here. This place is amazing, by the way," I gush. "I love the decor."

She beams. "That's kind of ya. Now, how do you take your coffee, love? Milk and sugar?"

"That would be great, thank you."

"Be back in a tick!" Moira promises, turning back towards the swinging door.

I turn my attention back to Eamon, finding him watching me with a bemused expression. "What?"

"Ireland suits you," he says with a shrug, picking up a menu.

I pick up my own menu and ask, "You can tell that just in the short time we've been here?"

"Aye."

I wait for him to continue, but he's looking back at the menu. "That's it? No explanation?"

Eamon strokes his chin in mock contemplation. "For starters, your whole face has been lit up like a firework since we got here. You're practically glowing."

"I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not, considering the circumstances. Maybe I should tone it down a bit," I say apologetically, biting my bottom lip.

Eamon's eyes zero in on my mouth. "No. I love seeing this side of you. You're always beautiful, but seeing you here in my home country? Breathtaking. And quit biting that lip. It's giving me impure thoughts."

I gasp. "Eamon Kennedy, behave. We're in public! "

He chuckles, leaning closer. "I didn't say I was going to act on those thoughts…yet."

Moira comes bustling back to our table, placing a saucer in front of each of us. She puts a French Press full of dark coffee and pours cream into the milk carafe in front of me before setting a pot of hot tea in front of Eamon.

"Here you are, loves. Have you decided on food, or do you need a minute?"

Eamon looks at me expectantly. "After you."

"I can't decide. It all sounds wonderful," I say. "What's your favorite, Moira?"

"Nobody's ever asked me that!" She taps her ink pen on her chin. "The smoked bacon and leek quiche is my go-to. With a side of breakfast mushrooms, of course."

"I'll have that, please! With a brown scone," I add quickly. There's no way my first meal in Ireland isn't going to include a brown scone.

"Good, lass. And for you, lad?"

"Full breakfast for me, Moira. I'll have a scone as well. It's been a while."

"You're Irish, young fella, how long could it have been?" Moira raises a brow.

"Ah, this is my first time back in several years. I've been in the States going to university and playing football," he tells her.

She nods towards me. "That where you met this one?"

"Aye, she challenged me to a drinking contest," he says, winking at me. "The black stuff too."

"Catch yourself on!" Moira laughs, looking at me with wide eyes. "And did you win, lass?"

I chuckle in response. "The pub owner interrupted before we could finish, but I didn't feel like a winner the next morning. Though I'd say Eamon was a pretty good prize."

"Ach, too right! Well, welcome back, both of you. I'll go get yer food," Moira says, turning and heading back to the kitchen.

"I'm a prize, am I?" Eamon asks, grinning slyly.

I study him for a long minute before responding, just to mess with him. Finally, I nod slowly. " Definitely."

We eat our breakfast and say goodbye to Moira before climbing back in the rental to head towards Kilkenny. The majority of the drive is spent in companionable silence, observing the landscape with the occasional remark on something that catches my eye.

"I promise I'll take you on the longer, more scenic, route before we head back to the States. I'm anxious to see my Mam. I knew I missed her, but now that we're so close, I just want to get there," he says longingly.

Reaching across the console for his hand, I wind our fingers together. "You don't have to explain, Eamon. If my Mom were still alive, I'd be the same way."

"Will it be hard for you? Being around me and Ma?"

"I don't think so," I admit. "I think, if anything, I'll probably fall more in love with you seeing the two of you together."

Eamon glances at me curiously. "No complaints here. I'm always open to finding more ways to win your heart."

In an attempt to infuse a little laughter into the day, I say, "If you keep being sweet like this, we're going to have to pull this car over and christen it, Kennedy."

He turns his head so sharply that the car swerves into the other lane. I shriek and grab the handle above the window. "Christ, Norah," Eamon barks out. "You can't say that to a man while he's driving!"

I giggle and wag my eyebrows at him. "Why do you think I waited until there were no other cars around before teasing you?"

"You're trouble, woman," he says, reaching over and squeezing my thigh roughly.

"Gah! Stop!" I squeak as he laughs. "I surrender! I surrender!"

"That's what I thought." He shakes his head and says, "Thank you for that. I needed the laugh today."