Page 65 of London, Love, & A Little Something Irish

Time flies, and before I know it, we’re back in the van, heading to the yard. Nathan pulls up, hops out, and within minutes, a few guys come out to help offload the van. Efficient.I stay put, watching as he works, handling everything with this effortless ease.

By the time he slides back into the driver’s seat, it’s already evening. He shifts gears, glancing over at me. “We’ll meet the rest of my family tomorrow,” he says.

I smile as I turn to look at him. “Oh yeah? What’s on the itinerary?”

“We’ll go to my old church in the morning, then to my gran’s house for Sunday lunch. You’ll meet everyone there.”

My stomach flutters. His gran’s house. His whole family.

He shifts gears again, the van rumbling smoothly beneath us. I have no idea how he drives this thing. He’s a great driver. “But tonight, we’ll grab some Chinese with Mum and Josh.”

“Ooh, love a good Chinese takeaway.” I tap my fingers against my thigh. “What do you usually get?”

Nathan grins.“Chinese chicken fried rice and gravy. Can’t get it anywhere in England.”

I blink. “GRAVY? Chinesegravy?” I ask in confusion. Gravy goes on chicken at Christmas time. Not on Chinese food.

“I know. It’s more of a Northern Irish Chinese thing. But it’sso good.” He smirks. “You can try some of mine.”

I scrunch up my nose. “You’ll have to convince me on thatone. I’ll try a bite, but if it traumatizes me, you’re buying me dessert.” Just the thought of dessert makes my mouth water.

His laugh fills the van, deep and rich, and I can’t help but smile.

And as we drive through the quiet Northern Irish roads, his laughter still lingering in the air, I can’t help but think?—

This already feels like the start of something so, so good.

The next morning, I wake up, stretching out in the unfamiliar-yet-cozy bed. Last night had been great—laughing over dinner with his mom and Josh, peeling back more layers of Nathan’s world, seeing him completely in his element.

And okay… Imayhave been converted to the Northern Irish Chinese gravy and chicken. A little. Maybe. I still cannot wrap my head around sausages and chips at a Chinese takeaway, but I’ll admit: when I stole a bite of Nathan’s, it wasn’t awful.It’s just notChinese. I’m still a sweet and sour chicken girl at heart. Or maybe next time… the honey chili chicken? That also sounds so good. Minus the chili part. But I hear it’s like sweet chili, and I’m here for that. Not spicy.

I shake my head at myself and push off the covers, heading to the bathroom to freshen up.

It’s only when I start putting on my makeup that I realize?—

Wait.

No.

No, no, no.

I forgot mascara.

I groan at my reflection. What is it with me and mascara?! I roll my eyes, but then my gaze flickers to my suitcase, another reminder of my very questionable packing job. I’m going to have to wear this top twice. Ah well.

As I show up for breakfast, I tell Nathan.

“Apparently, mascara and I have a hit-and-miss relationship.”

He grins. “Clearly a dangerous one. Should I be concerned next time you disappear before an event?”

I laugh. “I didn’t tell you before, but on the night we saw each other at team night, I quickly ran into the bathroom to get some mascara on to look, you know, presentable.” We laugh. “And now? I completely forgot it at home.”

I sigh dramatically. “Mascara: 2, Nataly: 0.”

“Sounds just like you.” He grins wider. “We’ll get you some on the way to church.”

After a quick breakfast, we swing by Tesco for an emergency mascara run, and then we’re off to church.

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