Page 10 of One Night Only
“I got a lash lift for the wedding. Paul says it makes me look a Disney cartoon.”
“Well, tell him some guys are into that.”
I can’t stop staring at her. I know absence makes the heart grow fonder, but she looks better than I’ve ever seen her. Her skin is clear and tanned, her shorter hair accentuating those cheekbones I’ve always been jealous of. Even crying she looks good, not like the puffy splotchy mess I turn into.
“What else did you do to yourself? Some kind of miracle potion?”
She grins. “It must be all this Irish air.”
“They should bottle the stuff.”
“I think they actually do.” She takes the luggage cart from me and wheels it through the glass doors. As soon as we’re outside a cool breeze hits us, making me shiver. Annie, despite her bare legs and sleeveless dress, doesn’t seem to notice. “Maybe there’s something in the water here.”
“Or maybe it’s love,” I tease, glancing at her sparkling engagement ring. “Where is the groom anyway?”
“At the hotel.”
“You got a cab all the way here?”
“No,” she laughs. “I have a rental.”
I slow my steps as she leads me to the parking lot and try to keep my tone as casual as possible. “You’re driving?”
“Not this again,” Annie groans.
I hide a wince. Annie isn’t exactly a bad driver, she’s just very accident prone when she’s behind the wheel. I’ve only been in a car with her a few times but in those times, she’s lost one bumper, hit two curbs and had three flat tires. And that’s not to mention the two crashes she had before I met her.
“Don’t they drive on the other side of the road in Ireland?” I try not to sound as worried as I feel.
“The same side as in London. I drive all the time in London! If I can drive there, I can drive here.”
She stops beside a silver Audi and I stare at the dent in the side.
“That happened on the first day,” she explains when she sees me looking. “Nothing’s happened since.”
I put my luggage into the trunk, already picturing the headlines.bride-to-be killed days before her wedding in car crash chaos.
“Are you tired?” she asks as I slide into the passenger seat. “We’re having dinner at the hotel tonight, but you don’t have to come.”
“Of course, I’m coming. The maid of honor means the guest of honor.”
“Not sure that’s how it works but okay.”
“Besides,” I say, “I only have a few days to find my own Irish husband.”
She smirks. “NowthatI can help with.”
She starts telling me about Paul’s good-looking cousins and before I know it, we’re out of the airport and into the countryside. Despite a rocky start with a series of roundabouts, my worries about Annie’s driving record soon fade as we get onto the road. I don’t get to see much of the city, the highway circles around it, but I’m fascinated by the world outside my window, so different from the urban, building-crammed landscape I’m used to. Lush dark hedges surround us on either side, bordering impossibly green fields that stretch to low mountains in the distance. I catch glimpses of a blue sky above us, hidden behind thick white clouds that seem to change shape every time I look at them.
We stop at a small town for lunch and I insist on dragging her to a tourist shop to spend my newly converted cash. I emerge twenty minutes later with a knitted Aran sweater that will look very chic come fall and a stack of postcards to send to family back home. I’m tempted by some shamrock earrings, but Annie puts her foot down.
“I’m marrying an Irish man,” she says flatly. “And he’ll kill me if he sees you wearing those.”
I buy them anyway when she’s not looking and it isn’t long before the mountains in the distance are almost within reach. Eventually, we get off the highway and drive down the east coast, over winding country roads that have Annie pursing her lips in concentration. It’s the only silent part of our trip as I don’t dare say anything to distract her. But we make it through unscathed and barely an hour later, we reach the village where Paul grew up.
Kilgorm,Annie informs me in a practiced speech, was a small market village that now relies on visitors to the nearby medieval castle and local hotel. It is a community steeped in history, its inhabitants proud and close-knit.
It’s also freaking adorable.
