Chapter 36

36

MADDIE

Saturday, April 26

Boyfriend Disaster #11 : Patrick

Job Location & Length : Slea Head Brewery, presently employed

My Age : 33

I met Patrick at an Irish pub in Dingle, Ireland. I asked him to kiss me to help me get over my ex, and he complied. The next day I figured out that he is my sister’s fiancé’s best friend.

We made a mess of things for a while, but it all worked out when he told me he loved me on the Cliffs of Moher.

He’s my eleventh relationship at my eleventh job since dropping out of college.

And he’s going to be the last one.

Breakup Reason : n/a

My Distress Level : no distress, just love

Lesson Learned : Follow your heart, no matter how scary it is.

T he group got to Dingle yesterday, and I’ve never been so happy to show my sisters around. I know this remarkable place as well as if it’s my home.

Which it is.

Patrick rushed off to important brewery business, and the rest of us stopped at Ian’s tattoo parlor. Ian and Oliver caught up, Ethan showed off his sleeve tattoos, and Reese, Stella, and I picked out matching shamrock designs—drawn by Oliver when he lived in Dingle—and made an appointment to get inked.

I wake up with Patrick wrapped around me in the hotel room. I sit and wiggle to the edge of the bed so I can get ready to meet my sisters downstairs for our appointment.

“Get your cute arse back over here, Maddie.”

Patrick sits up and hooks me around the waist, collapsing back on the bed and pressing his front—his very naked front—against my backside. Also naked.

“That’s better.” He cements me in place with his arm.

“Patrick. I am meeting my sisters in thirty minutes. I need to shower and not look like I just had sex.”

He presses his hand against my stomach and slowly moves his fingers lower and lower, caressing the sensitive skin just above where I want him to be.

I let out a low moan and relax back against him, arching my back and lifting my hand to his head to bury my fingers in his hair.

“Okay,” I say breathlessly. “Gotta make it quick.”

Patrick growls and flips me around. “I can do that.”

I laugh as he buries his head in my neck.

Two hours later, my sisters and I are at the park with steaming coffees from Dingle Brew in our hands, watching the boys casually kick a ball around. We all got small tattoos on the inside of our wrists. Is it cheesy to get a shamrock tattoo while in Ireland? Perhaps. But we don’t care.

It’s Reese’s second ink. The shamrock is on the opposite wrist from her compass tattoo, which she got last summer to represent how she found her true north with Oliver after her divorce.

Stella has a butterfly on one of her wrists. It stands for both her independence as well as her transformation from someone who’d been closed off since our father died when we were kids, to a woman happy and in love, while also keeping who she is close.

For me? It’s also my second, along with the three hearts on my left ankle.

I run my thumb along the sensitive inside of my wrist, slightly irritated from the needles, not taking my eyes off my boyfriend as he dribbles the ball down the field.

“He’s so good at that,” I say wistfully.

“He is.” Reese watches Oliver.

“I wouldn’t want to be going up against Ethan, though.” Stella sips her hot coffee. Ethan approaches Oliver, his bulky frame making both soccer players—each well over six feet tall—look slight.

“He’ll be okay,” Reese says. Oliver darts around Ethan and dribbles away from the rugby player’s colorful expletives.

After the Cliffs of Moher, we spent the night in Limerick. The next morning, we visited a magically pretty waterfall, which was Patrick’s suggestion. Today we’ll drive the Ring of Kerry and spot the beehive huts along Slea Head Drive. We all agreed to skip the Blarney Stone—Patrick was thrilled—and Maria’s suggestion of the Butter Museum in Cork so we could spend another day in Dingle. Then we’ll head back to Dublin with stops at the creepy Viking massacre cave in Kilkenny and Glendalough, an old monastery set in the Wicklow Mountains National Park.

After that, everyone heads to the airport for their flights.

Except me, of course.

“Will we be passing the scene of the sheep crime on today’s drive?” Stella tears her eyes away from Ethan and looks over at me.

“Haha.” I attempt sarcasm. “But... yes. Yes we will.”

Stella giggles. “I can’t believe you crashed into a flock of sheep.”

“ Almost crashed into a flock of sheep. I didn’t crash into them. I saved them by swerving off the road into an inconveniently located boulder.”

“Maddie.” Reese shakes her head.

“What?”

“I hope in the future you’ll be more careful. I don’t want to spend my life worrying about you on a bike in Ireland.”

“Listen, you don’t have to worry—wait, hmm, maybe you should worry, but only about me biking.” I look over at Patrick and smile.

Stella laughs and Reese sighs.

Patrick catches my eye and winks, turning to trot in my direction, letting Ethan and Oliver battle it out for the ball.

“Hi.” He leans over and kisses me on the lips. Butterflies take flight in my belly.

“Awwww,” Reese and Stella say in unison.

“Hey.” I smile, and heat rises in my cheeks.

“Oliver and Ethan are going back to the hotel, but I thought maybe you and I could go on a quick errand before we leave for the Ring of Kerry.”

“Yeah, sure.” I furrow my brow. “What errand?”

“You’ll see.”

“See you in a few,” I say to my sisters. Patrick holds out his hand and I take it, letting him entwine our fingers together.

He leads me all the way back past my flat and stops in front of his car, parked a few doors down.

“Where are we going?” I slip into the passenger seat when Patrick holds open the door for me.

“I need to show you something at the cottage.” He slams the door shut and strides around the car to the driver’s side.

“Ohhhhkay. A good something?”

“A good three somethings.” He clicks his seatbelt in place and turns to me. “At least I hope it’s good.”

“So mysterious. Can I have a clue?”

“No. Be patient.”

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m not the most patient person.”

Patrick snorts and reaches over to put his hand on my thigh. He pulls into traffic with a grin on his face.

A few minutes later, I follow Patrick into his cottage. This will be my home one day. I can’t wait.

“I have three gifts for you.” He stops in the kitchen and nods to his table, where a brand-new bike helmet sits.

I chuckle. “Ha. Thank you. Think it fits?”

“Aye. There’s no way I’m letting you on a bike again without a properly fitted helmet. Not that I could stop you.”

“Exactly.” I pick up the helmet and pull it onto my head. It’s snug and comfortable. “Perfect. Thank you.”

He nods. “Wait right here for gift number two.” Patrick disappears down the hallway and turns into the last bedroom —not his bedroom, not the girls’ room, but the woodworking room.

“Did you make me a bookcase?” I call. “Because that would mean I need to buy a bunch of books. I could do that.”

He emerges holding something smaller, about the length of his forearm. I can’t tell what it is.

“First of all, you can take the helmet off now.” He shakes his head and sighs, but an adoring smile takes over his face.

“Oh yeah.” I pull the helmet off my head and deposit it back on the table. “What do you have there?”

“Well, you’d commented on the one in the flat. I thought we could add this to the wall while you’re living there.”

I take the piece from him. It’s a wooden carving of the state of New Jersey, just like the one of Ireland.

“This is amazing. I love it.” I reach out and touch his arm. “When did you make it?”

“After you left for London. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’m not sure what I was planning to do with it... but it makes sense now. It was a gift for you all along.”

I throw an arm around his neck and lean into him, clutching the wooden decor against my chest with the other hand.

“Thank you. It’s so thoughtful.” There’s a lump in my throat and a sting in the back of my eyes. I don’t want to let go of him.

“One more.” Patrick leans back until I release my grip on his neck, then takes the carving from my hand and puts it on the table next to the helmet. His face is flushed, and he gives me a gentle kiss before nodding his head to the sliding door. “Come on. It’s out back.”

“What would be in the backyard?” But I follow him outside. Kitty trots over right away, nuzzling against Patrick’s pockets. He pulls out a treat and the sheep takes it from his palm.

“It’s behind the barn, probably.”

“Behind the barn?” I laugh. “Probably?”

“Maybe hanging out with Turtle.”

“Patrick, what did you do?” But then I find out.

Out from behind the barn trots the tiniest little hooved creature I have ever seen.

“There she is.”

I gasp. “Is that a baby goat?”

“Yes, sure is. And it’s called a kid.”

The kid comes right over to me, and I lean down and reach out to her. She sniffs at my hand and looks up at me accusingly after realizing I have nothing to offer.

Just then, she bleats loudly, startling me. I let out a giggle. The kid turns around and leaps away, bounding in the air before jumping and practically clicking her heels together.

“I love her so much!” I turn to Patrick, laughing.

“Good. She’s yours. I mean, she’s my responsibility. I’ll take care of her. But I thought Turtle and Kitty would like to have a new friend, and I recall you saying how much you love baby goats.”

“I’m not sure the conversation went quite like that, but I don’t care. She is adorable.” I grab Patrick by the waist and look up at him. He leans down and kisses me gently. “What’s her name?”

“You get to name her.”

“I don’t know about that. I think Erin and Niamh will be mad if I don’t let them do it.”

“Fair enough.” He chuckles and pulls me against him tighter. “I picked her up yesterday. My neighbor said she couldn’t keep all the kids her mama goat has had. So here we are. I have two sheep and a goat in my backyard.”

I crack up and kiss him again.

Back in the Dingle city center, a light mist falls. I tug the hood of my windbreaker over my head and step closer to Patrick, loving the feel of his arm against mine as we stride down the road.

On the way back from the cottage, Patrick told me all about convincing Sean to come back to Slea Head. Yesterday, he brought the old brewer the new autumn brew—which is apparently delicious—and asked Sean to come back as head brewer. Patrick and Lola will manage all the new product development, taking the parts Sean hates off his plate completely.

“And he really said he thought it would taste like a pumpkin vomited in a bowl of nutmeg?”

“Sean’s got a way with words, doesn’t he?”

I laugh. “I guess so.”

“He hasn’t said yes yet, but I know he will. It’ll all work out.”

“Where is this optimism coming from? Where’s the Patrick who was panicking about everything falling apart when I first got here?”

He halts and spins me toward him.

“I don’t panic. I’m very level-headed and rational.”

I straighten out my smile. “Of course.”

“But... it’s because of you, Maddie.” He slides his hands on either side of my face and tilts my head up to him. “You’ve inspired me to change my life. It might look similar from the outside, but who I am inside has fundamentally shifted since I met you.”

“You’re not going to say something like you complete me , are you?”

He presses his lips to mine and pulls back.

“That’s exactly what I was going to say. I haven’t felt this complete ever in my life.”

Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them away.

“There’s one problem still.”

Patrick’s eyes widen slightly. “What?”

“We have a visa situation. As in, I don’t have one.”

“Oh, I have a plan for that, too, Maddie, but you might not be ready to hear it yet.”

Now my eyes widen. Is he suggesting . . .

“I pay you under the table, for now.”

I breathe out. It wouldn’t have been such a bad thing if he’d been referring to marriage. I’d marry this guy tomorrow if it meant I got to stay here, with him.

“And then we get married.”

I gasp. “We get married?”

“I’m not proposing to you just yet, Madison Hart, but I think that’s the only logical solution to this problem in the long term.”

“Clearly there’s no other possible way.”

“Exactly.”

He leans in to kiss me. “Now let’s go on a drive.”