Grace smiled. She didn’t care; she was interested in seeing all things Ireland.
“Sounds like fun. What is this word, ‘craic,’ that I keep hearing?” Mr. Robinson asked.
“It generally means a good time, fun, entertainment. But if someone asks you, ‘What’s the craic?’ they’re looking for news or information.”
Mrs. Peete laughed. “Oh, gossip.”
“Exactly.” Declan laughed. “Anyway, afternoon tea dancing on Sundays usually runs from September until the end of April. This is a special one for a local charity.”
Mrs. Robinson nodded her approval. “All the more reason to go dancing.”
Within forty-five minutes, they pulled up in front of a one-story stone cottage with a sign out front next to the door that said simply, “Community Centre.”
The bus unloaded, and the group followed Declan inside. Grace had noticed a foundation cornerstone dated 1858, but the interior suggested recent refurbishment. There was a faint smell of sawdust, paint, and brand-new carpet. There were tables lining the perimeter of the room and most of them were full. The music from the live band was lively, but it was the dance floor that drew Grace’s attention. It was packed with gray-haired couples, whirling around in an energetic waltz. Grace loved to dance. She wanted to be out there; she didn’t care how old the people were. Her obvious choice for a partner would have been Declan, but that seemed dangerous. To be held by those strong arms? To be up close as he talked softly to her, leading her around the dance floor? No, that was definitely too risky.
Plan B. She looked over to the priest. What was the etiquette concerning asking a priest to dance?
Mrs. Robinson and Mrs. Peete looked as if they, too, had been bitten by the dancing bug. Both women clapped their hands along with the music.
“It doesn’t look like we can get a table together, so let’s try to get seats near each other,” Declan suggested.
“We’ll find you, Declan. Tim and I are going to dance,” Rhoda Peete said, her eyes sparkling. She grabbed her husband’s hand and headed toward the dance floor.
Grace envied the other woman’s bravery. And the fact that she had someone to dance with.
Declan managed to find three tables in the same area, each with some vacant seats, and they all dispersed. Grace sat down with the priest while the Robinsons sat at one table and Declan sat at another to save room for the Peetes. The Robinsons stood up once they divested themselves of their jackets and her purse. They headed up to the dance floor to join the Peetes. Grace tapped her foot to the lively beat, wishing she were up there.
Within a few minutes, the Peetes returned, Mrs. Peete looking breathless. “Now that was fun.” She elbowed her husband, who turned to Grace and said, “Would you like to dance?”
Grace jumped up, aware that Declan’s eyes were on her. “I’d love to.”
Mr. Peete proved to be an athletic dancer. Grace followed his steps and caught on to the simple two-step waltz in no time. Soon Mrs. Peete was back on the floor, but this time with Declan as her partner. From the corner of her eye, Grace watched Declan expertly glide Mrs. Peete around the dance floor, wishing it were her that was in his arms.
As they passed Grace and Mr. Peete, Mrs. Peete stopped and said, “Do you mind if we switch partners? You’re a great dancer, Declan, but I can’t keep up with you. Where’s my Tim?” And before Declan could protest, Mr. Peete took Mrs. Peete in his arms and danced away.
Grace’s palms were damp as she looked up to Declan, unsure.
Declan regarded her. “Shall we?”
Grace swallowed hard and nodded. He held his arms open to her and Grace stepped into them, placing one hand on his shoulder and her other hand in his. His warm hand dwarfed hers. The surface of her skin tingled. Sighing, she looked away. She could barely hear the beat of the music over the thumping of her heart.
Being in his arms wasn’t as she’d imagined. It was much better. He smelled so damn good. Some kind of spicy aftershave. And his arms were big and solid around her. She closed her eyes and let herself get carried away.
The rest of the afternoon was surreal. She and Declan only spoke a few words to each other, but they danced the whole afternoon. There was no need to talk when there was constant touching. Her hand in his. His arm wrapped around her. His hand on the small of her back when they left the dance floor. She didn’t think she could talk even if she tried.
Later, as they got on the bus, Mrs. Robinson said, “I wish we had something like this back home.”
Everyone murmured agreement. Grace leaned against the window with a dreamlike smile on her face. It had been more than fun. It had been wonderful. Exciting. She hadn’t minded that she’d been the youngest one in the room. When she was with Declan, the whole world fell away. She wished she could feel like that always, although she knew it was unrealistic. But still, she told herself, it was a memory she would always have.
DECLAN PULLED THE MINIBUS in front of the hotel, let everyone off, and bid them goodbye. They’d been a great group and a lot of fun, and he told them so.
The Robinsons, the Peetes, and the priest had all said their farewells, shoving money into his hands. He made sure they had all their belongings, as he wouldn’t see them again. Grace seemed to linger, and he was delighted. The afternoon had been incredible. He just wanted to be alone with her. To ask her something.
“So,” he started. “Um . . . so, you’re leaving on Tuesday.”
“I am,” she said. She’d gotten some sun on her face from being at the beach earlier. She hugged her bag to her and pulled her hoodie close. The night air was chilly.
“Do you think you’ll ever come back?” he asked, tentative, holding his breath.
Without hesitation, she nodded her head, “Oh yes, definitely. Ireland is amazing.”
They both looked around. He was afraid. Afraid to ask. Afraid of the no that might be coming his way.
“I wish I could stay,” she said wistfully. She, too, glanced around. They looked at everything but each other.
“Why don’t you?” he whispered.
She looked abruptly at him. “What? What did you say?”
He shuffled a step back and thrust his hands in his pockets. “I said, why don’t you stay? Just for a little while longer.”
She frowned, uncertainty playing across her face. He’d blown it, he thought. He waited for the inevitable rejection.
“I wouldn’t want to stay here by myself.”
Something propelled him forward. “You could stay with me.” Immediately, he realized how that sounded. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He proceeded gently. “But if you would like some company or would like to see some more sights, I’d be willing.” He tried to appear casual, but his heart banged against his chest.
Her expression was unreadable, but those eyes! Her eyes were luminous.
Anticipating her reply was the longest wait he’d ever had to endure.
“But I’m going to Dublin tomorrow morning,” she said.
What kind of answer was that? he wondered.
“That’s okay, never mind,” he said, flustered, kicking at a stone that wasn’t there.
Grace laughed. “Declan, will you give me a chance? I’m just trying to figure this out in my head, how I could do this.”
His spirits lifted a bit. “Oh, right.”
“I need to be clear about something,” she said. “I’m not in the market for romance.”
Of course she wasn’t. Declan nodded his understanding. An old saying from grammar school popped into his head: Slow and steady wins the race. “What about friendship?”
She broke into a wide smile. “I’m always in the market for that.”
Chapter Seven
Grace had a wonderful time with Declan that week, enjoying his company with no pressure. She accompanied him when he drove the minibus on a rowdy pub crawl to Killarney with the hen party, and they spent a day in the sunshine back at Ballybunion beach with his nieces and nephews, who obviously ador
ed him, even venturing into the sea caves at a time Declan assured her was safe from high tide. She did some exploring on her own, too, on days when he was busy with the tours. But now she wanted to go home, so she could do the mind work to get over Mark while laying the foundation for an ongoing friendship with Declan. And who knew? Maybe in the future it could blossom into something more.
Declan insisted on driving her to the airport in Dublin, even though it was a three-hour journey. Initially, he was quiet on the ride up.
“Do you know when you’ll go back to Australia?” she asked, trying to get him to talk.
“Actually, I’ve been offered a job here, working on the Aisling Manor refurbishment.”
“That’s wonderful! You must be happy about that.”
“Oh, I am. I’ve given my boss in Australia my notice, but eventually I’ll have to go back to sell my car and get rid of my apartment.”
“What will you be doing at your new job?” she asked.
“Construction, mainly,” he said. He explained to her what he’d be doing. She could tell that he was excited about it and she was happy for him.
“When do you start?”
“Next week,” he smiled.
A silence fell between them that lasted for a few long minutes.
“It’s not like you to be so quiet,” she remarked.
“I’m trying to get the nerve up to ask you something,” he said with a laugh. It was amazing how a week alone with someone could break the ice. She felt more comfortable with him now than she had on the tour group. She felt as if she’d known him for a long time.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” she asked with a reassuring smile. Or she hoped he found it reassuring, anyway.
“Really? You’re asking me that? Your answer could be no,” he said.
“If you don’t ask the question, the answer will always be no,” she countered.
He raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Touché.”
For another mile, he didn’t say anything and Grace didn’t push him. She was willing to let it all play out the way it was supposed to.
“I was wondering if you wanted to keep in touch when you go back to the States?” he asked. His head turned back and forth between keeping his eyes on the road and looking at her.
“I would like that very much,” she said. Two weeks ago, her wedding day had been the worst day of her life. But today she was feeling oddly content and satisfied. The despair had been replaced by hope.
“Whew, that’s a relief,” he joked, mimicking wiping his hand across his bow.
“Actually, I have a question of my own,” she said.
“Go for it,” he said.
“Would you like to come to Boston to visit me?” she asked.
His eyes widened in surprise, but the easy smile on his face told her he was delighted. “Yeah, sure! I’d love to.”
“You’ve been such a great guide that I’d really like to return the favor,” she said.
“When?” he asked.
She laughed again; he sounded so eager, like a kid. She shrugged. “Whenever you can. Just let me know.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
When the sign for the airport came into view, Grace shifted in her seat and bit her lip. She liked Declan’s company more than anything and felt sad that they had to part ways. But she wanted to see how she felt about him three thousand miles away. Was this just a holiday state of mind? She hoped not.
When they pulled into the airport, Declan dropped Grace off at the curb. He pulled out her backpack and handed it to her.
“I’ll go park the car and meet you inside,” he said, offloading her suitcase to the curb.
She went inside and got in line to check her suitcase and get her boarding pass.
By the time she was finished, Declan was waiting for her by the departures screen with his hands in his pockets.
“All set?” he asked.
She nodded. A lump had formed in her throat. They walked silently toward the security gate. Grace eyed every sign she passed and her muscles felt twitchy. Finally, the security gate loomed before them.
“This is where I head off,” Grace said. She went over in her head all the things she wanted to say. She wanted to thank him for introducing her to the beautiful country of Ireland. But there was still so much more of the country she wanted to see. She wanted to tell him that the trip had rescued her from falling into a deep pit of depression. She wanted to tell him how much she was going to miss him. She wanted to tell him how much she was looking forward to seeing him again. And she hoped it would be soon.
As she was going through this mental review, Declan stepped forward, took her in his arms, and lowered his head. Grace’s eyes widened.
“If it’s all right, Grace Kelly, I’m going to kiss you goodbye.”
Grace gulped and nodded quickly because she couldn’t find the words.
Declan pulled her tighter to him and laid his lips on hers. Grace could feel her heartbeat in her throat and hear it in her ears. She slid her arms underneath his and wrapped them around his back. He kissed her good. By the time he pulled away, she was dizzy. She put her hand on her head.
“There was no way I wanted to let you leave without kissing you goodbye,” he said solemnly. His eyes were serious, his face appeared somber.
Grace was still trying to get her bearings. She nodded. “Yeah, I’m glad you did.”
Declan’s eyebrows knitted together. “Are you all right?”
Grace’s laugh was shaky. “Never been better, actually.”
And that was the truth.
Epilogue 1
One Year Later
Declan waited in the arrivals lounge for Grace to walk through the gate. With his jacket open and his hands in his pockets, he paced the area. He broke into a smile when he saw her come through the doors. He sighed; she looked beautiful. Her dark hair had gotten longer and spilled around her shoulders, and her eyes crinkled in the corners when she smiled broadly at the sight of him.
This was the third time they’d gotten together in the past year. Three months after she left Ireland, she’d met him in Australia for a week so he could sell his car and pack up some belongings. Three months after that, he’d gone to Boston for a long weekend. Now she was here for two weeks to visit him.
The only thing he knew was that the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to be with her. They emailed and texted every day and spoke on the phone and Skyped several times a week. Sometimes for hours.
She broke into a run and jumped into his arms. He breathed in the familiar smell of her and closed his eyes.
He set her down and leaned in to kiss her. She responded eagerly.
It hadn’t all been smooth sailing. There was a four-week period between the visit to Australia and his visit to Boston where she had withdrawn and pulled back. At the time, he figured it was delayed grief from her breakup. He stayed firm but in the background. He made sure she knew that he was still there. He’d always be there. Once she came to Australia, things righted themselves. And in these last few months, she seemed better. Happier.
Grace pulled him to her in another hug. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you!”
He smiled, embracing her again. He knew exactly how she felt. After he picked up her luggage, they strolled arm in arm out to the carpark.
GRACE COULDN’T BELIEVE how fast the vacation went by in Ireland. She closed up her suitcase and sighed. She didn’t want to go home. She wasn’t ready. The thing she had been worried about one year ago had happened: she’d fallen in love with Declan O’Grady. She was pretty sure he felt the same way. She wanted to be where he was, wherever that was.
There was a knock at the door of her room. She’d been staying with Declan’s lovely grandmother. Declan appeared somber in the doorway.
“All set?” he asked.
She nodded, unable to find her voice.
“Grace, I can’t do this anymore,” Declan said.
Grace loo
ked up to him, startled. Was he breaking up with her?
“I don’t want visits a few times a year. I want to see you every day. Every. Day. For the rest of our lives.”
Grace stood frozen on the spot.
Anguish played out across Declan’s face. “I’m in love with you, Grace.”
Grace gulped. Her excited thoughts began to scatter all over the place like rose petals in the wind. But she reined them in, realizing that this was one of those moments in life that rarely came along, if ever. She wanted it to slow down so she could memorize every moment of it. She was hyperaware of everything about him: his cowlick that could sometimes wreak havoc and defy the most stringent of hair products, his right shoulder that was not even with his left, always making him look as if he were in the middle of a half-shrug. But she knew this one thing. She loved him. Him and only him.
“Remember when you told me that you wanted a man who’d ask the important questions?” he asked. “I’ve got a few for you. Do you feel the way about me that I feel about you? Will you marry me? Do you want kids? Where do you want to live?” He drew in a breath, his voice anxious.
Finally! The perfect man asking the right questions. He waited and she realized he was holding his breath.
Her eyes filled with tears. Smiling, she reached for his hand, took it in hers, and gave it a squeeze. “To questions one through three, my answer is yes, and as for question number four, my answer is, anywhere you want,” she said. Unable to wait, she stepped forward and slipped her arms around his waist. When she felt his arms pull her into his embrace, the tears finally fell. She buried her head into the crook of his neck.
They hung onto each other and clung to one another.
She closed her eyes when she felt him kiss the top of her head.
Her Great Irish Escape Page 7