"Ah, no, I think it's your genetics that did that. I probably won't, but just in case I decide to, could I get your permission to post this to my social media group? They're basically my photography fans," Tara said, sounding a little shy. "I'm under strict instructions to take pictures of all the nice Irish people I meet. Probably not you, though."
Declan hmphed. "I'm not nice enough, is that it?"
"You're too much of a thirst trap," Tara said drolly, and walked away as Declan stood there smiling foolishly. After a moment she looked back, eyebrows raised curiously. "Coming?"
Declan,veryunder his breath, said, "Not yet, I'm not," and hurried to catch up as his peacock said,What's that mean? What's that mean?What does that mean?
They went somewherenice for dinner, and Declan could hardly remember where, much less what he'd eaten. He spent the entire meal smiling at Tara, whose eyes brightened with animation and happiness as she talked about photography, about her supporters, and about how she'd always wanted to visit Ireland. "I didn't know you had Starbucks here," she said with a trace of embarrassment. "I think I was imagining it as…I don't know. Almost not a real place. Although, in my defense, the first person I met here turned out to be actually magical."
Declan couldn't help his laugh. "But not a leprechaun."
"No, although let's not pretend there's not a lot of leaning into that in this country! The Leprechaun Museum?" Tara demanded, and Declan raised his palms to her, still grinning.
"I'm not arguing. The Leprechaun Museum is a delight, by the way, if you intend on spending any time in Dublin, but I'm not arguing. There's a Leprechaun Limos company there, too. One of their employees is famous on Irish socials, she's hashtag Murder Driver."
Tara's eyebrows nearly flew off her face. "She's a murderer?"
"No, no, she just keeps getting involved in solving murders. Amateur sleuth, like. I didn't think they were even real."
Tara coughed on a laugh and murmured, "Says the man who can turn into a peacock?"
Declan opened his mouth and shut it again, feeling silly. "Well, when you put it like that."
"And then the Shamrock Safari Wildlife Park," Tara went on. "And there was a place I saw, what was it called…" She grabbed her phone and searched for something, then waved the screen at him with a grin. "The Fairy University at Bunratty?"
"Oh,God." Declan put his face in his hands. "All right, yeah, you're not wrong, we do lean into it here and there. Maybe it's fair enough for Americans to think we're a magical place."
Tara breathed, "Just like Tahiti," leaving Declan to blink at her in bewilderment. She laughed and waved it away. "Never mind. Look, I know it's not late but I've just realized that if I eat another bite I'm going to collapse into the plate. I think I'd better go back to the hotel and sleep. How do I get from Cobh to Blarney easily in the morning?"
"The train and a bus." Declan made a face. "Or I could collect you?"
"Well—" Tara got her phone out again, obviously looking it all up. "You said you live in Cork City? Am I reading this right? There's only one extremely tiny road out to Cobh?" She glanced at him and Declan made another face, this one of agreement. Tara nodded. "What if we split the difference and I take the train into Cork and then you get me at the station?"
Declan, feeling slightly guilty, admitted, "That would be much easier, honestly. The drive to Cobh is indecent in the mornings."
Tara smiled, bright and sweet, and he felt himself tumbling farther into desire and affection. The mate bond was like nothing he'd expected: the conviction that they were right for each other was powerful, and let him completely trust his sudden, sheer adoration of a woman he barely knew. He just wanted to spend time with her, learn everything about her that she wanted to share, and—even though he knew the bond was meant to work both ways—toconvinceher that he was the man she might not have even known she was looking for. He wanted to be worthy of her laughter and smiles and more of those incredible kisses she'd offered earlier.
"It's funny," he said aloud, and then didn't know where to go with that, because sayingI always tried to be a good boyfriendbut now there's nothing more important in the worldseemed like a bit much to lay on Tara when he hadn't even tried to explain the power of fate in shifter relationships.
She tilted her head, waiting, then looked amused. "What's funny? An indecent drive?"
"How much I wasn't expecting my week to go this way," Declan said, "and how glad I am that it has."
"Imagine how I feel," Tara said. "Off to Ireland for the vacation of a lifetime, and instead of kissing the Blarney Stone I'm chasing a peacock-feather thief with the most gorgeous guy I've ever seen."
Declan beamed like an idiot. "Am I, then?"
Tara, dryly, said, "Oh, don't go fishing for compliments. I assume mirrors work for shifters."
"Sure and I'm handsome enough," Declan said with as broad an accent as he could manage, "but a fellow likes to get a compliment now and then too, doesn't he? Oh, no," he added as she signaled for the check. "Let me, please?"
"You bought dinner last night," Tara protested.
"I know, but you're on holiday. Spend your money on going places your social media friends want to see pictures of, not on food."
The temptation was clear in Tara's face, although she still hesitated. Declan, feeling clever, said, "Wait, I know. You can photograph some of my art so I can use the pictures in a brochure, in exchange. I'm absolute shite at it."
Relief swept her pretty features and Tara nodded. "That seems fair. Thank you."
