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“Hello, lovebirds!” he said. “Now I don’t normally hold with foreigners coming and snatching up our fine young Irishmen, but for you, Cordelia, I will make an exception.”
“That’s big of you, Darragh,” Niall said dryly.
Colin and some other men were lining up with their Guinness and trays. Alison rushed up to them, her cheeks ruddy, her auburn hair escaping from her ponytail.
“Howya,” she said. “I didn’t miss it, did I? Cordie, I saw that photo you posted of Niall at the Black Fort, gosh it’s a beauty. Oh look, there they go!”
Niall turned to see Colin power-walking as fast as he could, his eyes fixed on the pint balanced on his tray.
“Go Colin!” Niall shouted as Alison whooped and Cordelia clapped. One of the boys from Inisheer was close behind him but Colin was walking in quick measured steps, keeping a foot ahead. Another runner’s tray tilted but he caught it before it fell, beer slopping over the rim of the glass, and everyone cheered. The man bowed and left the race, chugging his beer as he went.
“I like this much better than the currachs,” Cordelia said.
“I don’t know,” he murmured in her ear. “Not much chance of getting pulled out of the water and kissed by a pretty girl.” His eyes traced down to where her hair fell over her shoulder, glowing against the print of her sundress. “Sorry, but . . . are those pineapples on your dress?”
“They are.”
“Let me guess – Liz got it for you.”
Cordelia laughed. “No, this one I bought myself.”
“You like to have food on your clothes, don’t you?”
“Am I making you hungry?” she teased. Her top teeth pressed into her bottom lip as she looked up at him from beneath thick lashes.
He groaned. “You’re making me something, that’s for sure.”
She giggled and ran her hand down his chest. Niall caught it and kissed her palm.
“Think you could make a meal out of pineapples?” she whispered.
“I’m certain of it,” he said, his voice rough. She tilted her head toward him, her mouth curving into a wicked grin that set Niall’s pulse racing.
“He won!” Alison cried suddenly.
They broke apart and Cordelia threw her arms up in a V of victory.
“Yeah, Colin!” she cried.
Colin was standing down the road next to Fiona, holding his beer aloft. The crowd whooped and Niall watched as Colin proceeded to drain his entire glass dry.
“Let’s get locked!” Colin shouted and the crowd cheered again.
“Oh, lord,” Niall said, then turned to Cordelia. “You ready for a night of good craic?”
“Born ready,” Cordelia said, slipping her hand into his.
The afternoon melted away into evening and Niall couldn’t remember when he’d had a better day.
And it wasn’t in the usual way he had begun to think about his life, the Before Deirdre and After Deirdre times. It was that he simply could not recall ever feeling happier, or more at peace, or filled with such contentment. Who would have known this feeling would exist in Inishmore of all places? He sat at a table with Cordelia by his side, smiling the same smile that he had woken up with that morning.
“Another round for you all?” Shauna said bustling up to the table. “And will you be wanting any food?”
“Lamb!” Cordelia, Alison, and Róisín all cried together, then burst out laughing.
“Then I’ve got terrible news,” Shauna said with mock solemnity. “We’ve sold out of the lamb, I’m afraid.”
“You didn’t,” Alison gasped as Róisín drained her whiskey and slammed her tumbler down on the table.
