Page 53 of An Irish Summer

The way he smiled told me he knew I knew exactly what he was going to say, and I was impossibly grateful he didn’t finish speaking. Though in all honesty, it didn’t make much of a difference. The energy in the truck was electric, and I studied the landscape beyond the window in a desperate attempt to distract myself.

I counted the cows that dotted the grass. The gulls that dipped over the sea. The breaths Collin took that sounded like he was about to say something but at the last minute changed his mind.

He was on his fourth when we rounded a curve and a castle came into view in the distance. It was a soft gray with turrets jutting into the sky beyond the deep green of the trees, nestled between a dense mountainside and a sparkling lake.

“Is that—”

“Our destination,” he said. “Does it qualify for your list of acceptable places to be going? It’s not anywhere on the corporate ladder or anything, but it’s—”

“Beautiful,” I said. For once, I had nothing else to say.

“Sometimes it’s nice for things to just be beautiful, isn’t it?” Collin asked, following the road along the direction of the water. “Not everything always has to be getting you to the next thing, or—”

“Collin,” I said, “you’re ruining it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, “were you just embracing the moment for once?”

“I can do that, you know,” I said.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I could do it better if you weren’t riding me constantly.”

“Oh, that’s what I’m doing now, is it?” He raised his eyebrows, and I caught the innuendo a second too late.

“You’re infuriating,” I said.

“That’s why you’re here, then, is it? We’ve been running all around the country together because you can’t stand me?”

It took everything in me not to slam my head against the window. I knew if I kept talking I’d be digging my grave deeper into the ground, but letting him win felt like a burial in its own right.

“Good point,” I said. “Maybe this should be our last trip, then.” His smile disappeared, and I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep a straight face.

“As you wish,” he said. Goddamn it. “Though after you see the inside of the abbey, I think you might just change your mind.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I could feel his smug grin without looking, and I forced myself to breathe deeply. Truthfully, I was excited to explore the castle, but I didn’t want to give Collin the satisfaction of appearing too eager.

The only sounds on the walk down the path to the abbey were the crunching of gravel underfoot and the idle chatter of other visitors. Collin and I walked close enough that our arms brushed every few steps, and the unexpected contact burned like embers.

As we got closer to the castle, though, even the electricity with Collin burned away. Kylemore Abbey was a marvel. Its dove-gray facade reflected in the lake below, blurring like a watercolor painting. The surrounding trees boasted shades of green I didn’t even know existed, and the gardens sprawled in every direction. Every other castle I’d seen in Ireland so far had been in ruins, but this was remarkably preserved.

“Ready?” Collin asked as we approached the entrance.

“Aye, Collin. There you are?” The ticket attendant extended his hand, which Collin shook like they were old friends.

“Eamon, great to see ya,” Collin said, patting his elbow. “Thanks for having us.”

“Anything for you.” Eamon gestured us through the door. “Say hi to yer father for me, will ya?”

“Anything for you,” Collin echoed, saluting him as we made our way inside.

“Old friend?” I asked.

“Of the family.”

“That was nice of him to let us in for free.”

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