Chapter 8

8

PATRICK

Thursday, 06 March

I glance over to my passenger seat, still shocked that Maddie Hart is there. At least she’s wearing leggings and a hoodie instead of one of her endless supply of infuriatingly sexy dresses.

I can’t believe I offered to cycle Slea Head Drive with this woman. I had to though, didn’t I? Oliver would want me to. Reese, too.

I should be at the brewery working on the final recipe for the first autumn brew batches we’re due to start this weekend. Sean attacks me for any mistake I make, so I need to be top of my game when it comes to him and Slea Head. And I should be working on that pitch for Wellington Pubs, who finally got back to me with a meeting date less than two weeks from now. I need to have a complete proposal and timeline ready for them. I want to be able to offer them all five of our brews—two of which aren’t even ready yet.

But if I keep Maddie safe, I’ll be doing Oliver and Reese a favor and also ensuring someone is around to help hold things down at the pub while I focus on the brewery.

Oliver texted me last night to catch up. He brought up the road trip, and while I didn’t outright lie to him, it felt like I did. It made me very uncomfortable.

“Why are we driving to bike Slea Head Drive?”

“Because the entire route is about fifty-five kilometers.” I look over at her briefly and she stares back, eyebrows raised.

“Sounds doable.”

“That’s thirty-five miles.”

“That sounds much less doable.”

“How much cycling have you done?”

Maddie shrugs and crosses her legs. She might not be wearing a dress, but I can practically see her skin through those black leggings. She’ll freeze her arse off.

“Loads.”

“Yeah?” I sneak another look at her.

“Well. I mean, it’s been a while.”

“Like how long?”

“I owned an amazing pink bike when I was in elementary school. It had pom-poms on the handles and a basket with flowers in the front.”

“Madison, that sounds like a very long time ago.”

“Are you calling me old? Because I’d hardly call twenty years a long time.” She pauses. “Twenty-three years. Twenty-five, tops.”

I snort. “Hear yourself?”

“Yeah, I do, and I hate it.”

I peek at her and she’s staring at me, smiling. Christ.

“Basically, we’re cheating a bit and starting halfway. It’s cold and windy out today, but at least it’s dry. And we need to be back to the pub by early afternoon so you can relieve Saoirse, who’s opening today.”

“Good, she was fun. Maybe she’ll hang out for a while.”

I let out an exaggerated sigh.

“I thought she worked at a hotel?” Maddie asks.

“She does. She also helps out at the pub sometimes.” Just as the gorgeous views of the ocean are close enough to gawk at, I pull off onto a dirt driveway.

“What’s this place?”

“My dad’s friend lives here. A regular at the pub.” I gesture down the dusty drive. “Starting from here saves us a bunch of miles.” I park far from the old farmhouse, which is barely visible from the road.

“That feels like cheating. Can I even say I biked Slea Head Drive?”

“Who would you say that to?” I open the driver’s side door and turn to her.

“You know. People.” Maddie shrugs and exits the car.

“What people?” I scrunch my forehead and stand, slamming the door behind me.

“People who care, Patrick.” She plants her hands on her hips and watches me head to the boot of the car.

“Who? Give me a specific example.”

“Like . . . people on Instagram.”

“That’s not specific. And why do you care about people on Instagram?”

“I don’t! I’ve sworn off social media. And no one knows I’m here anyway, so I won’t be posting.”

I let it go, but I’ve never quite taken to social media. Swearing off it sounds like a good idea for Maddie. For anyone.

While I’m unhooking the first bike, she starts to pepper me with questions.

“Where did you grow up?”

“Dingle.”

“Do you see your parents a lot?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your favorite part about living here?”

“My sheep.”

“You have sheep?” She gasps and splays her hand on her chest.

“I do.”

“Do you shear their wool and make sweaters?”

“No. Not if I can help it.” I wrestle the second bike off the rack.

“No to which part?”

“Both.”

“Why not?”

“Sheep generally don’t like being sheared. And they’re my pets, not a source of clothing or rugs.”

She giggles and I hate how the sound makes me grin.

“Wait a minute.” Maddie gasps and presses her palms to her cheeks.

“What?” I pause with a helmet in each hand.

“The flat. Your flat. It’s decorated entirely in sheep decor. That was your doing. You love sheep.”

“Love is a strong word.” I do my best to keep my face expressionless, but a corner of my mouth twitches.

“There’s a sheep shower curtain.”

“So?”

“And dish towels.”

“Your point?”

“The salt and pepper shakers, Patrick. They’re sheep heads.”

“Fine. I like sheep.”

“That’s... more than I can process right now. Can I meet your sheep?”

“No.” I toss her a helmet—an extra I have—and she catches it. “Put that on.”

“Please?” She wriggles the helmet on her head, and damn, she looks fecking adorable. But it’s a wee bit big on her.

“Absolutely not.”

“Do they have names? They must, if they’re your pets.”

“They do, and it’s none of your business. Check your bike. It’s a spare I had lying around. Is the seat the right height?” I asked my big cyclist neighbor if she had a bike I could borrow, and she offered to sell me this one. So... I bought it. Not for Maddie only, obviously, but it’ll be good to have an extra. Erin is in the middle of a huge growth spurt, and she’ll probably need a new bike soon, anyway.

“It’s perfect.” She throws a leg over the bike and settles on the seat with one foot firmly on the ground, then loses her balance and almost falls over. While standing still.

“Jaysus.”

“What? I’m fine. No worries.” Maddie adjusts the helmet on her head. “Do you have other farm animals?”

“No. But my neighbor has a goat with newborn babies.” Why am I telling her this?

“Awww. Baby goats are so cute.”

“Are they? Whatever.”

“Can I meet the baby goats, if I can’t meet your sheep?”

“Let’s go.” I don’t answer her ridiculous question and instead swing onto my bike and push off toward the road, cycling slowly and speaking to her over my shoulder. “Stay on the left side of the road, close to the edge. The cars will go around you and you’ll be grand as long as you ride steady.”

“It can’t be worse than the other day. At least I’m not wearing my glasses in the pouring rain.”

I ignore her quip, and a vision of her dripping wet in a sports bra flashes in my head.

“This is about ten kilometers each way. We’ll stop halfway at the best viewpoint in Slea Head. Then we’ll continue to Dunquin, take another quick break, and head back. Should take us about one hour and a quarter, maybe an hour and a half.”

“Sounds better than fifty-five kilometers.”

“Sure does.”

The elevation climbs and falls, and the views of Dingle Bay and the Atlantic Ocean are truly spectacular. Mossy piles of rocks line the roadway, changing eventually to old stone walls and fencing, keeping livestock from wandering into the road. We ascend, the ocean sprawled out on our left. It’s been six months since I biked this way, probably since the end of last summer. The views do wonders for my stress levels.

We cycle in silence. I remain at a slower pace than usual to make sure Maddie’s keeping up. Finally, I spot the paved pull-off at the high point.

I turn in and stop my bike in the small lot, leaving my helmet hanging off the handle. Maddie pushes out the kickstand of her bike behind me and drops her helmet gently to the ground before stepping next to me.

One glance at her face tells me she’s as impressed as I still am each time I come here, even though I grew up a stone’s throw away.

“It’s breathtaking.” Her body full-on shivers, and she slips her hand around my forearm and pulls herself close to me. “But freezing.”

I don’t move my arm for fear she’ll remove her hand. Her eyes lock on the vast ocean in front of us, the waves crashing against the rocky shore far below.

“Should’ve worn more clothing.”

“Is that your personal motto?” I lift my free arm in the air and wave it in front of us, as if I’m presenting her to a group. “Madison Hart: should’ve worn more clothing.”

“Shut up and keep me warm.”

A lump forms in my throat as she lifts my arm and wraps it around her shoulders, burrowing into the smooth side of my windbreaker while drinking in the scenery.

This I didn’t sign up for.

She rotates us slowly, absorbing the whole view, taking in the white crucifix and statues behind us, the grassy, rocky cliff rising up against the clear sky, all the while staying snug against me, one arm wrapped around my waist. Her hair whips around her head and my own breath gets stuck in my throat as I can’t pull my eyes away from her, not the view.

What is she thinking right now? I’m so... confused. I finally follow her gaze out to the ocean.

“This is the westernmost point of mainland Ireland. It’s clear today, so you can see the Blasket Islands.”

Maddie looks up at me, her eyes wide and wild.

“I can’t believe you grew up here. I grew up in New Jersey .” She laughs and shakes her head. “So unfair.”

Something warm glows inside me.

“I mean, Jersey does have actual sunshine, and warm beaches in the summer, and pretty mountains. I guess it’s not all bad. But it’s definitely not this.”

Whoever gets this woman will be lucky as hell. Who was she getting over when she asked me to kiss her? That person is an arsehole for losing her.

No.

I need to stop that train of thought right now. If I had Maddie—if she let me be with her—I’d ruin it. Maybe I haven’t scared her away yet, but I would. I’d say something she’d misunderstand. I’d not be the person she needs me to be. I’d break it. I’d break us. It’s what I do.

I’ll never be part of an us again.

The only people who truly get me are my family. I can’t say anything to scare them away. They know me. They accept me.

Any warm feelings I have toward this woman are ill-fated, so it’d be best if I squashed them right now.

“What are you really doing here, Madison?” I say, but the wind is whooshing around us and I’m not sure she even hears me. She gasps softly, then turns her whole body to me, pressing her face against my chest, her hair whipping around.

“I told you. I’m planning a road trip.” Then she slips her arms inside my open jacket and wraps them around my waist. “So much warmer.”

She looks up at me with a pure, genuine smile, and I can’t help but notice that this feels right. Good. The most natural place in the world to be. When’s the last time I was locked in an embrace with a woman like this? Not any of the one-night stands I’ve had in recent years, that’s for sure.

I give in to the feeling and wrap my arms around her, covering as much of her body as possible.

“Oh, that feels so nice.” Maddie’s voice is muffled against my chest, and I look out over the wild Atlantic Ocean.

“Madison.” I move my hands slowly on her back, with the excuse that I’m getting her blood flowing, keeping her warm so her muscles don’t freeze up before we get back on the bikes. “Answer the question.”

She breathes in deeply. “A series of things happened.”

“Starting with?”

“I got dumped.”

I look down at her, and she turns her face up to mine.

“Tell me.”

“His name was Blue.”

“Blue?” I snort. “You got dumped by a man named Blue?”

She presses her lips together and nods, a hint of amusement raising a blush.

“I met him in Saint Lucia in the fall. I was there for a month volunteering, and I thought we fell for each other. I fell for him, at least. I always fall too fast.” Maddie says those last words mostly to herself. “I went back to Jersey to start my hospitality program.”

“How’s that going for you?”

“I’ll get to that part.”

“So what happened with Blue?” It takes a lot for me to say the man’s ridiculous name.

“We talked a lot, video chatted, texted, everything. I saw him in December. After the holidays, he got quiet. I doubted everything. So I booked an internship at a resort in Saint Lucia.”

“And then?”

“And then I found his new girlfriend’s Instagram. She’d tagged him, and it popped up on my feed. He’d completely moved on and hadn’t even told me.”

“Hence your social media ban.”

“Yup.”

“Well. Feck Blue, right?”

Maddie steps back from me and crosses her arms on her chest, turning to face the gorgeous view once again. In every way, my arms feel immediately empty without her in them.

“Yeah, fuck Blue.”

She’s so far away, with that longing look in her eyes. I clench my fists at my sides, my hands itching to touch her again. To comfort her.

“But now you’re in Dingle.”

“Mmm, I am.”

“I think I’m missing a connection between the two.”

She glances at me. “I was too chicken to tell Reese. I didn’t want her to know about my latest fuckup. When I couldn’t get a refund for my flight, I thought about this road trip, and how I just needed a minute to regroup and restart my life...”

“So you changed your flight to Dublin.”

“That I did.”

“You might be the dictionary definition of impulsive.”

“I also dropped out of the hospitality program.”

I pause and examine her face. Close up, she’s got freckles dotting her nose and under her eyes. It’s fecking adorable.

“Why’d you do that?”

“I hated it.” She shakes her head, helping the wind to lift the long strands of hair wrapping around her neck like a scarf. “And I didn’t need it. I don’t want to work at a hotel, and I know how to manage a restaurant, a bar, a pub, whatever. Even though I don’t have a fancy college degree.”

“Neither do I.”

“I also didn’t play professional soccer.” She reaches out and pokes me in the arm.

I can’t help but let my face soften. “You don’t need to have done either of those things, you know.” She’s so vulnerable on this cliffside, and the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen against the backdrop of the ocean and Blasket Islands.

“Thanks.”

We stare at each other for a few seconds until she breaks our silence.

“You know what the stupidest thing is?”

“What?” I ask.

“His name’s not even really Blue.” She snorts. “It’s Brian. He changed it to Blue when he started working on the island. He’s actually from Ohio. Brian from Ohio. Can you get more boring than that?”

I throw my head back and laugh, and when I look at her again, she’s smiling widely. It’s like I’d made her entire day just by laughing. There might not be sun in the sky right now, but she’s like a ray of light warming my soul.

“Madison, I can tell you for sure, Blue-Brian from Ohio is a total loser.”

“Agreed. Okay, I’ve told you way too much. It’s your turn. Tell me something super personal.”

Well, feck me. This turned fast.

“I have nothing personal.”

“Come on. I’m freezing my ass out here on the edge of the world. Throw me a bone.”

I can’t just offer up a part of myself. It’s not who I am. I couldn’t even do it with Cara. Or with the other local girl I dated.

“Ask me a question.” But maybe I can try. She’s starting her life over, maybe I can try to change parts of myself as well.

“I want to ask two.”

“Go on.”

“Have you always wanted to run the brewery?”

“Yes. But until Dad’s stroke last fall?—”

“I’m so sorry.” She interrupts me and entwines her fingers together. “I didn’t know that happened.”

“He’s doing well now. But it was time for him to step back, and he finally let me take over. So yes, I’ve wanted to run the brewery since I left soccer.” I swallow. That wasn’t so hard. “Next question.”

Maddie narrows her eyes at me, her gaze darting quickly down to my lips in a fast movement I almost miss. “Have you ever been in love?”

“ Jaysus . Not easing into personal questions, are we?” I run my hand from the back of my neck through my hair and down my face.

“Too scary for you? Do you want a different question?”

“Yes. That’s my answer.”

“With who?”

“That’s a third question.”

She blinks at me and raises her eyebrows, waiting for my response.

“Fine. Her name was Cara. We were engaged. After I left soccer, I followed her to Dublin. It was a disaster, and five years ago, I came back here—alone—and bought O’Brien’s. And the flat.”

I leave out the fact that she’s Liam’s little sister. That Liam used to be my mate. That I lost both of them in one fell swoop.

Maddie stares, waiting, her hair flowing around her like a sweet halo, but then she nods.

“Well, fuck Cara then, right? She can fuck off to Saint fucking Lucia and hang out with Blue-Brian from Ohio.”

I offer her half a grin. “She’s still in Dublin, I think with a different man than the one she cheated on me with.”

“Well, we hate him, too. She’s a stupid twit for leaving a hot ex-pro soccer player bartender behind who probably has awesome hobbies like crossword puzzles and knitting.”

I bite back a laugh. “I don’t knit. Or do crossword puzzles. And I don’t do relationships anymore.”

She cocks her head at me. “Like, never? Your sister told me you’d been single for years, but she made it sound like it wasn’t by choice.”

“Saoirse,” I grumble under my breath. “It’s by choice. I don’t date.”

“Hmm.” She studies my face until it makes me uncomfortable.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to figure you out.”

I sigh and shake my head. “Come on then, love, let’s go to Dunquin.” The term of endearment slips out, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

We climb back on the bikes, and I lead the way along the winding road toward Dunquin Pier, which is only a ten-minute cycle. It strikes me how normal I feel chatting with Maddie.

I haven’t said Cara’s name out loud in years. It’s basically forbidden in my presence.

Yet I just offered it up to Maddie Hart.

I glance back to make sure Maddie’s keeping up, and she is, her hair flying out behind her from under the crooked helmet, a smile on her face.

This is fine. This is normal. She’s my best friend’s fiancée’s little sister.

Basically, she’s nothing to me. But I can still feel protective of her, right?

Nothing will happen between us. We’ve already established that. We’re just friends.

Cycling one of the most beautiful, romantic roads in the world.

This is fine.