Page 50 of An Irish Kiss
“It gets cold, and there was none of that fancy heating back then.Would you like to see upstairs?”
“Um, maybe just up the stairs.Is it okay if I take some pictures for my grandmother at home?”
“Of course, dear.”
He did, and took a couple more upstairs.But Bernie was right.Most of the original features had been renovated or updated long ago.And trying to find a sense of history in this place felt a little like chasing a wild goose.
Outside was a stone barn which may have been original.And certainly none of the trees looked old enough to have survived three hundred years.He took some pictures anyway, thankful he could at least show something of the Quinn heritage to his grandmother.
They stopped and enjoyed a cup of tea and what Bernie called spiced Barmbrack fruit cake, which was pretty similar to the boiled fruit cake his grandmother had often made at home.
“It’s really good,” he said, having polished off a slice.
“When I’m feeling naughty I top it with whipped cream and blackberry jam.”
“That does sound naughty,” Rory said.
“Ah, but we all need a little bit of spice in life, don’t we?”
He smothered his laughter with a sip of tea and nearly choked.He wouldnotlook at Rory, certain she would find the comment equally funny.
She coughed, and his gaze flew to hers, and sure enough the amusement there made his chest hurt to hold in the laughter.
“Bernie, thank you so much for your hospitality,” Rory said.
“Truly the finest I’ve come across in my stay so far,” he added.
This earned him another look from Rory, and he realised how it might be taken.“Apart from with you,” he mumbled.
They exited, and then Rory paused.“Would you like me to get a picture of you out the front?”
“That’d be great.”Gran would get a kick out of that at least.
She took a photo of him, then one of him and Bernie, with his phone then handed it back to him.
“Shall I get one of the two of you?”Bernie asked.
“If you don’t mind.And if Rory doesn’t,” he added, looking at her.
She nodded, and he gave Bernie his phone.Rory moved in closer, and he tucked his arm around her shoulders.
“What are you doing?”she murmured, as Bernie requested for them to “say cheese.”
“Having a photo with the prettiest woman in Ireland.”
“Hmm.You obviously don’t need to visit the Blarney stone as you’re talking enough blarney as it is.”
He chuckled, just as Bernie took the photo.“Oh, and that’s a grand picture of the two of you.You both look so happy.”
The photo certainly showed that.There was a joy and an ease displayed between them in the way Rory smiled at the camera, her head slightly tilted toward him, and he was laughing, eyes crinkled.
His heart thudded.If he didn’t know better he’d think they were a couple.
After thanking Bernie again, they headed back to the car.He glanced across to where Rory sat, sunglasses on, ready for the next part of their adventure.“Thank you for that.It meant more than I can say.”
She smiled.“See?Not something you’ll find in a tourist guide.”
“For sure.”
