Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“So relaxed,” I added. “No nightmares, no worries, nothing here.” I took a sip of my drink. “I hope it continues.”
“Same for Una. She isn’t afraid of anything here.”
I chuckled. “Maybe because the two of them have charmed the whole population of the town. No one would get near them without being torn to shreds by the locals.”
Finn laughed in agreement. “Especially the males. Look at Tim Driscoll. Eighty years of age and he’s dancing with our women like someone half his age. If someone came at them, he’d fight like a champ.”
“Maybe we should stay here,” I murmured.
Finn blinked. “Really?”
I shrugged. “If Anna were happier here, I’d move in a heartbeat. Luckily, she doesn’t want to.” I eyed him. “You’d do the same for Una.”
“I would.” He winked. “Lucky for me too, she doesn’t want to stay either. But the break has been good for them.” He paused. “Us too.”
I added more whiskey to our glasses. “Did Mum tell you she got the green light to come back with us? She’ll be there for my wedding. And your party.”
“She did. Una and I are thrilled. I hope we can get her to stay for a while.”
“She’s bringing Connie and Maggie with her,” I informed him, referring to her two best friends.
“Jesus. They almost killed us last time.”
I threw back my head in amusement. “This time, Una and Anna can help. And we can beg Roman to let them stay at his hotel for a few days. Gamble and see the sights. Give us a much-needed break.”
Finn shook his head. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I’ll owe the man so much, I’ll never be able to pay him back.”
Then his face softened as he looked back at the dance floor. “But worth it.” I followed his gaze. Mum was on the dance floor now with the girls, teaching them some Irish steps. All three were laughing with their arms around one another as they tried to follow her footwork.
“That is as grand a sight as I ever saw,” I muttered. “Who knew all it took to make Mum happy was to be happy ourselves?”
Finn threw his arm over my shoulder. “Who knew, indeed. Let’s go show these women how it’s done.”
I side-eyed him. “How drunk are you? You haven’t tried an Irish jig since we were kids.”
“No time like the present.”
The way Anna was beckoning to me with her beautiful eyes and her hand outstretched, I decided he was right. I downed the last of my whiskey.
“Let’s go.”
I woke the next morning facedown on my bed. I was stretched across the mattress, clad only in my boxers. There was a god-awful racket coming from somewhere in the room, and when I pulled myself up, I discovered Finn passed out on the floor, a blanket over him, snoring like he was a seventy-year-old man with a smoking addiction.
I sat up carefully, not wanting to make the jackhammers in my head any louder.
Where the feck was Anna, and why was Finn on the floor?
I stood on my shaky legs and kicked his foot. He made a strange sound and rolled over, the snoring immediately starting again.
I pulled on some sweats and went to the bathroom, emptying my bursting bladder, brushing my teeth, splashing cold water on my face to try to wake up. I took some pain meds and looked at myself in the mirror.
I hadn’t looked this hungover in decades.
I made my way downstairs, wondering if I had been in a car accident. My legs ached as hard as my head. I found Anna, Una, and Sully with Mum in the bright kitchen, a pot of tea on the table, the scent of fresh bread in the air.
“Morning,” I rasped out.
All four looked at me, then started to laugh. Anna came over, placing her hand on my chest. “Niall, it’s one o’clock. In the afternoon,” she added in case I didn’t understand.
“Holy feck,” I muttered.
“Is Finn alive?” Una asked with a grin.
“Since he’s doing an imitation of a piece of heavy machinery, I assume so,” I said, sitting down. “What the feck happened last night?”
Mum slid a cup of tea in front of me. I wanted coffee, but considering everything, I decided not to ask. At least the tea was hot and strong. She shook her head. “You and Finn got into a drinking game. You drank shots of whiskey and challenged each other to, ah, an Irish dance-off.” She bit her lip. “It was one for the record books, my boy.”
“I haven’t Irish danced since I was a kid and you made me take lessons,” I protested, horrified.
“Apparently you remembered some of them. As did Finn.”
“The rest,” Sully finished with a smirk, “you made up with great gusto. I had no idea you could do the splits, Niall.”
I leaned my head on the table. “Feck. Neither did I.” No wonder my legs ached. Then I lifted my head. “Who won?”