"It's 'keys,'" she told him cheerfully. "But you keep on saying 'kways,' it's gas." At his clear confusion, she said, "Em, 'fun?' Like, it's a gas?"
"Nobody's said that since 1958," he informed her loftily.
"Maybe nobody in America," she retorted as they crossed the river. "We say it all the time here." She paused at the bus station, considering their path, and decided on the back way. "C'mon, we'll sneak up on the restaurant from behind."
"I'm sorry," Elliott said with faint alarm, "do restaurants in Irelandusuallyneed to be snuck-up-upon?"
Aoife laughed. "No, I just like taking the back way around. I don't even know if it's the back way," she admitted. "I'd have to take a poll. Excuse me," she said to a woman passing by. "We'regoing around to the Chinese place on Patrick Street and I need to know if you'd say going around through Oliver Plunkett Street is the back way?"
The woman, who was in her early fifties and sported a chic, naturally white short haircut, said, "Ohhh," thoughtfully, and paused to look down the river, then up toward Plunkett Street. "Yeah, kinda," she decided after a moment. "I'd say Plunkett's the cuter street now, more vivacious like, with all the fancying up they've done on Patrick Street, but it's got that back wayvibe."
"Grand," Aoife said happily. "Got that sorted. Ta, thanks very much!"
"That was amazing," Elliott said as they went on their way. "Do you always just ask random strangers their opinions on things?"
"Only when they're very important, like this was." Aoife grinned up at him. "Come on, it's a nice walk, though. It's a grand old street, pedestrianized and all. Of course, everything but the restaurants are closed now, so we'll have to have a proper look at it tomor…oh, you have to be a lion tomorrow. Well, on your day off."
"When areyourdays off?"
"At the weekend, usually, but you can't not be the lion on loan at the weekend. That's when we get most of our visitors. How long are you in Ireland?"
"I'm considering staying forever."
Aoife's heart leaped so hard she gave a nervous laugh. "Wow. After what, a day here?"
"Would it be too corny to say 'after meeting you?'"
The heart-leaping thing happened again, but this time it also made her knees weak as another giggle squeaked out. He couldn't be serious. She also somehow desperately wanted him to be. But that was too much to even consider, so she said, "'Corny?' When you were giving me a hard time about 'gas?'"
Elliott had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "All right, when you put it that way. This is great," he added, gesturing at the street. Even in the evening with most of the shops closed, it was a vibrant area, restaurants, pubs, clubs and people filling it. Aoife guided him down one of the alleys that passed the English Market, and he craned his neck, reading the sign. "EnglishMarket? Are you only allowed to speak English there or something?"
"Boy, I hope not, the shop owners are from all over the world. No, it was opened in the 1780s when the English were occupying Cork, and later when they'd lost some of their hold and an Irish-owned market opened, they called this one the English Market to differentiate them. It's grand, we'll go there too. Later. On your day off." They went up into the restaurant as she spoke, and within a minute were seated at a private table off in one corner. After looking through the menu with their stomachs growling, they both ordered, and Aoife folded her hands under her chin. "All right, you've got to tell me what this thing is, I'm pure dying of the curiosity."
Elliott had begun by looking nervous, but that turned to delight. "'Pure dying,' I love that. I love how you use words. It's not the way we do at home."
"In Iowa," Aoife said solemnly. "Home of many African lions."
He laughed. "Yeah. We immigrated, I guess. But what I wanted to tell you…" He hesitated. "Itisa lot, and it does have to do with that comment about staying here after meeting you. I just want you to know that I don't want to be weird and there's no rush about anything."
"You turn into a lion," Aoife murmured. "That's weird already, so let's just take 'weird' as baseline and see where it goes from there."
"There are a bunch of things about shifters," Elliott said quietly but earnestly. "I mean, we shift, that's one, obviously. And we're fast and agile, you saw that. But another thing about us is that when we meet the person we're supposed to be with, we know it instantly. And for me, Aoife, that person is you."
He sat back, looking a little startled. "Wow. That was easier to say than I expected it to be. I. Oh. Um. Are you okay?"
Aoife's eyes had widened until she thought she'd probably forgotten how to blink, and she was pretty sure she'd also forgotten how to breathe. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was, "Hhhh," and she thought, once more, that she might be doing that cartoon character thing where she just went "*"
Distress widened Elliott's eyes, too. "Oh, God, I shouldn't have said anything, should I? It's too weird for a first date. Oh my God, listen to me, what am I saying, ofcourseit's too weird for a first date. I just feel like I should lay all my cards on the table, you know? Get it all out there, so you know what you're dealing with. I will definitely back off, like, I'll fly back to America tonight if that's what you want, but I'll be here when you want me to be, Aoife. I know this must sound nuts to you, and honestly I don't know if even I really believed in the whole fated mates thing until I saw you, even though my parents and older brother and people I know have found theirs. But it's still unbelievable until it happens to you, and I really sho?—"
Aoife stood up, leaned across the table, and kissed him.
It wasn't the greatest kiss in the history of kisses. It was awkward, with the table pressing against her hip bones, and her being so short she could hardly even reach far enough to kiss him anyway. It did stop him talking, though, and since that was her first goal, it was a success on that front.
It helped that he stood partway up as she did, so the kiss improved somewhat as the angle eased. Then somehow hesnaked an arm around her waist and she was magically in his lap.
Things gotmuchbetter after that. Elliott was warm and strong and confident, and although Aoife was small, she didn't usually think of herself as a delicate flower. She felt quite delicate and flower-like in Elliott's embrace, though, and discovered she absolutely loved it.
She also loved the gentle feel of his mouth against hers, and the thick tangled mane of hair that she sank her fingers into. His human hair was much softer than his lion's mane, although she supposed, with a laugh against his mouth, that he used conditioner, and the lion didn't.
