"Aaah, I should have known better than to be bold about a town name. God knows the Irish have enough odd-sounding ones of our own. Here now, will we go into town? I've a car, I could drive you back. We could have lunch and hire a boat for the afternoon? Do you sail at all?"
"Actually yes! I haven't since I was a kid, but we used to go out on the Sound. I'd love to go here. That would be a real memory to take home with me."
Mick's heart gave an unexpected pang at the reminder that Irina wasn't planning on staying. It would have to work out somehow—probably America needed DJs too—but the thoughtof her going back home to Sequim made his chest hurt. He took a deep breath, though, and offered a gallant, "I'll do my best to make it special."
CHAPTER 7
Kinsale turnedout to be an enormously pretty little town set into the coastline, full of brightly-painted buildings and fronted by a water walkway that went past the harbor and out of town. Despite a wind that insisted on blowing her ponytail into her mouth no matter which direction she faced, Irina thought she could live on the hill above the water and take the walk every single day of her life without a single regret. She said as much to Mick as they left a fish and chips restaurant right on the marina, and he laughed.
"Sure, but it's only glorious today. When it's lashing buckets of rain and hurricane winds, you'll think differently about the walk, at least."
"Hurricanes, really? I didn't think Ireland got them."
"We get the tail end of loads of 'em," Mick said airily. "Most of them aren't hurricane-force by the time they reach us, but a few are, and they're massive auld storms even if they're not. They come whipping right up the harbor here and it's miserable."
"I think I could stand it, for this view when it wasn't raining." Irina nodded out at the serene harbor, chock full of sailboats ofvarying sizes and a single yacht that wasn't quite big enough to qualify as a cruise ship. The hills beyond were green, glimpses of James Fort visible off to the right, and hints of rainbows playing high in the air as rain sprayed down and then gave up.
"My family and I spent our summers here," Mick said fondly. "It's not a bad place to grow up, at all."
"So you're from…Cork? I mean, the city? Or…?"
"I am so. Mam and Da bought a wee little holiday house here back when somebody could afford to do that, and an even littler boat. We'd come down the minute school let out and stay until we had to be dragged back in. I spent my summers on the water." He flexed his hands, an almost nervous gesture, and Irina lifted her eyebrows.
"But you don't like it?"
"Do I look like I'll swim, or sink?" Mick asked with a crooked smile.
Since he looked like he had about two percent body fat stretched over millions of large muscles, Irina had to admit, "Sink. But that's what life vests are for!"
"And my whole family wears them religiously," he promised. "And so will you, out on the water, yeh?"
"Yeah, of course. I'm a good swimmer, but I bet it's cold."
"You would bet correctly. There she is, then." He nodded toward the sea of small sailing boats, and Irina squinted first at them, then at him.
"There what is?"
"Oh. TheFossey. Our boat," Mick said, and then Irina caught the name painted across the bow of a small sailing yacht.
"Oh, I didn't realize you still had her! She's very pretty. How big is your family?"
"Five of us. Two can sail her, if they know what they're doing, but usually we'd crew her with three while two stayed out of the way."
"It's been a long time since I've sailed," Irina said dubiously. "I'm not sure two is enough, if one of them is me."
Mick leaned down toward her, lowering his voice. "Don't tell anybody, but she's got an outboard motor for when we got lazy or the wind died. Which it does like clockwork about half seven in the evening," he added, straightening up. "We used to do the races and it was always a hope and a prayer to get across the finish line before the wind quit, or you'd be waiting for a tow home."
"Or rocking the boat to try to force fill the sails," Irina said in delight. "Not that it ever got us far. Then paddling the last little bit into the berth."
Mick cackled, bumping his shoulder against hers. Well, his biceps against her shoulder, because he was a good foot taller than she, but the thought counted. "Youhavesailed. But we won't get stuck out there, 'cause we've the motor to rely on. Are you dressed warmly enough? It's cold out on the water."
"Probably not," Irina admitted. "Do you have a sweater I can borrow, on the boat? And by 'borrow' I probably mean 'swim in,' since you're three times my size?"
"My ma's probably left something there, and she's not that much bigger than you. If you're too cold, we won't go out far."
"Perfect. I don't want to miss the chance to sail in Ireland, though." Or to spend more time with Mick Mahoney, Irina admitted to herself. They could sit on the wharf and feed french fries to the screaming seagulls, for all she cared. She just…liked his company. Adored it, somehow. Wanted to keep it as long as possible. She had never thought of herself as a woman who liked really big guys, but there was something about Mick's huge reassuring presence that she didn't want to give up, even having just met him.
He offered his hand as they walked out to theFossey,helping her into the boat without an ounce of obvious effort. She landedlightly on the deck and put her hand on his chest, pretending it was to keep her balance and not just because she wanted to touch him. "Are you just naturally impossibly strong?"
