Page 68 of My Irish Mafia King

I laugh, dancing away from him when he leans down to pick me up.

“My bad,” he says. “I shouldn’t forget how independent you are.”

“I’m feeling pretty freaking dependent lately. But not in a bad way.”

“How about we compromise and hold hands?”

I take his hand, smiling as we walk together. As the surroundings get darker, he takes a flashlight from his pocket and switches it on, holding it steadily so the light guides our path. Every so often, he glances down at me, a smirk on his face.

We crest a small hill and walk toward the entrance to the mountains. There’s a mini sort of valley here, which looks like it leads somewhere deeper.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” I ask.

“Like what?” he says innocently.

“Like I’m missing someth…”

I stop talking. I stop walking. My heart beats with crazy speed and significance. A gasp escapes me as I turn in a small circle, memories finally returning to me.

“How did it take me this long?” I whisper.

“Maybe it was the helicopter ride… you were on foot last time.”

“This is where it happened. This is where you found me.”

“Where we landed – that was where I found you. This, my lucky charm, is where we were when the storm hit.” He loops his arm over my shoulder and gestures with the flashlight toward the miniature valley. “Do you remember those crags?”

“The cave where we took shelter… it’s in there.”

“That’s where we’re going,” he says warmly.

“Why?”

“Because that’s where this began,” he says. “I didn’t know it then, couldn’t know it then, never would’ve dreamed it… but that’s where fate first touched us.”

A heady sense of romance grips me, shimmers moving all over my body, making me feel warm and tingly.

“Isn’t it going to be dark in there?”

“Don’t worry,” he says with a playful, teasing note in his voice. “I’ll keep you safe…”

I laugh and slap his arm. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” he replies seriously. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop looking out for you.”

Now that I remember where we are, the memories rush in quickly. “I remember leaning against that rock when you were tying your shoelace. I was scared, but also… I felt weirdly safe. With you.”

He grins. “Do you remember asking me if giants lived here? When I asked you why, you said because some of these big rocks looked like chairs.”

“Yeah, I do!” My head rushes. “This is crazy.”

We keep walking, hand in hand, letting the memories infuse us. When I see the light shining at the end of the dark valley, my heart skips. Fairy lights ring the entrance to the cave, glittering, beckoning. There are more lights woven around the rocks closer to us, guiding the way.

“When did you do this?” I ask, gobsmacked.

“I arranged it before we left the States,” he says. “This trip wasn’t just about seeing Ireland, not for me… it was about seeing that look on your face. It was about my love for you. It was about cherishing the path fate put us on all those years ago.”

I cover my mouth with my hands when we enter the cave mouth. There are fairy lights everywhere, white and green, glistening all over the slick walls. The cave floor is covered in layers and layers of green rose petals, the entire place blanketed with them. In the middle of the cave, there’s a table with a bucket of champagne and two chairs.

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