Page 95 of Bumping into You

“Thanks, not much has changed in it since my childhood except maybe some updated technology and appliances,” hesays, standing off to the side with his hands in his pockets as he watches me walk around the room.

I smile at him. “Well, it’s perfect. I especially love all the pictures of you and your mom here,” I say, gesturing to the shelves of framed photos.

He stands next to me and takes a more recent picture of him and his mom off the shelf. “My mam was an amazing woman,” he says. “Losing her was like losing my best friend; she was my everything. Since her passing, I’ve become a shell of myself.”

“I can’t even imagine how hard that had to be,” I say, leaning in to give him a side hug as we both look at the photo.

After setting the picture down on the shelf, Niall walks over to the couch to sit down. I follow and sit next to him.

“Tell me more about her,” I say.

“She was amazing. She loved to cook food for anyone who was in need. She was constantly feeding the neighborhood. She was a very observant woman and wise beyond measure. No matter the problem, my mam would have a solution or the right words to say. And she was brilliant. Never have I met someone who could solve theWheel of Fortunepuzzle so quickly or answer most of theJeopardy!questions. We’d have weekly picnics at the beach. In the colder months, she’d bring warm Irish potato soup or Dublin Coddle soup. We’d pack it in a thermos and sit wrapped in blankets.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“Maybe this fall when you come up, we can head over to the beach and have ourselves a picnic,” he offers.

“Yes, please. I’d love that.” I smile. “Did your mom ever get to meet Greg and Trent?” I ask.

“She did, many times. I’d tell her I was bringing my mates home for the weekend, and she’d cook up a feast.”

“Oh, I bet Trent loved that. That man can eat.” I laugh, scooting closer to Niall as he pulls a blanket over us.

“He can, but my mam didn’t mind. She loved that I brought home friends and loved cooking for them even more. She’d harp on about how they weren’t eating enough and told them they were welcome to come over anytime.” Niall sighs happily, his expression softening at the memory.

“Seeing your house,” I say, “gives me a glimpse into who she was, and she seems like someone I’d have loved to spend time with.”

“I’d have loved that,” Niall says, then kisses the top of my head.

We lie there on the couch talking, Niall sharing memories of his mom, funny antics from his childhood through college, and life at the firehouse. I look up at another picture of his mom, the woman who raised him to be the man he is today.You’d be proud of him, I tell her.

I nod off during a lull in the conversation, and Niall kisses me lightly.

“Come on sleepyhead, let’s get you to bed,” he teases.

He scoops me up in his arms, blanket included, and I lay my head against his chest. He takes me into his room and lays me on the bed. Moments later, he snuggles in next to me and pulls me in close.

“Sleep well,mo ghrá. I love that you’re here.”

“Me too,” I say before drifting off, safe and warm in his arms.

In the morning, I wake up to the bed empty next to me and the smell of coffee. Niall must’ve gotten up already. I slip out of bed and head to the bathroom. After washing my hands, I splash water on my face in the sink. Something to help wake me up until I’ve had some of that coffee. I turn off the water to hear Niall moving around downstairs. This all feels so domestic, so easy.

That’s how it’s been the whole time with Niall and I—easy. Weget along really well. He’s the happy to my grumpy, always trying to make me laugh and succeeding most of the time. He truly cares about me, and that thought makes my heartbeat quicken in my chest. I want to make this long-distance relationship work. I want to be with him, no matter what that means or where we live or who is traveling where.

When I enter the kitchen, Niall is glancing through the mail on the counter while listening to some voicemails on his phone. He’s shirtless with grey sweatpants, and they ride his hips like a model’s.

“Morning,” I say, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Morning, beautiful,” he says, handing me a steaming mug of coffee.

I take it and slowly sip it while I walk into the other room to look at the pictures on the bookshelves.

Then I recognize Greg’s voice coming from Niall’s phone.

“. . . she seemed so much more herself on the cruise. I’m hoping our little deal did the trick to get her out of her funk. . . .”

What deal? What is Greg talking about? Did Niall tell Greg about our pact, our fake relationship? I walk into the kitchen, closer to Niall. He looks up at me from the island where he is sitting, shock on his face.

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