Page 90 of Since We're Here
“Oh! The coffee table in my flat?”
“Yes.”
“Wow.” I steal a look at him. “Wait, what about that wooden wall hanging in the flat? In the shape of Ireland? Is that yours, too?”
“Yes.”
“You’re talented.” I hug my arms across my chest, trying to douse the sweet warmth sparking inside.
He shrugs and backs up out of the room. “Want to meet the sheep?”
“As long as they’re not the ones that took me down yesterday.”
“Christ.” His eyes widen. “Would this be triggering?”
“I’d prefer baby goats, like your neighbor has, to sheep.” I step closer to him. “But it’s okay. I don’t blame the sheep.”
“Come on, then.” He half-chuckles, half-sighs, and holds out his hand. I step forward to take it.
“Wait a minute.” I pull back on his hand until he turns to me.
“Hmm?”
“When you say smaller pieces, do you mean things like wooden figurines?”
“Aye. Figurines and bowls and wall decor. Just not giant pieces like the bed or bookshelves.”
“The ones your nieces painted over the weekend?”
“Yes.”
“Sweet. And did you happen to make a terrifying wooden sheep and leave it on the dresser in the flat?” A vision of the menacing shadow of the sheep on that first morning I woke up in Dingle flashes in my head.
“I wasn’t going for terrifying.” Patrick squeezes my hand.
I crack up.
“Come on. Kitty’s the friendly one. Turtle hides. He’s super standoffish.”
I let Patrick lead me to the backyard.
“I’m gonna take a wild guess that you let your nieces name your sheep.”
“Aye. I wanted to call them Brains and Holy.”
“That’s weird.” I cock my head as we get to the sliding doors in his family room.
“You know, short for Sheep for Brains and Holy Sheep.”
I cackle and follow him out the door, where Kitty stands about ten feet away. Patrick looks over his shoulder and winks at me.
My heart twitters. I’m in so much trouble with this man.
On Tuesday afternoon,I shove Patrick out the door to go to the brewery.
“I’ll be back soon, I promise.”
This morning, he filled me in on the full-blown crisis at Slea Head with Sean quitting.
