Page 41 of Inheriting an Irish Groom
“A little.”
She flipped to another page, pointing. “This dialogue here—tighten it. Your character is saying the same thing three different ways. Trust your reader to get it the first time.”
“You are… terrifyingly thorough,” he said, shaking his head.
“Occupational hazard.” She sat back, folding her arms. “Okay. What is this book actuallyabout? What’s the heartbeat? Because right now, I don’t feel urgency. I don’t know what’s driving him.”
Ronan hesitated. Then, after a beat, he said, “It’s about being stuck between duty and desire.”
“That’s your pitch? Why does he have to choose between the two?”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
Aisling raised an eyebrow. “Then make it complicated on the page. Right now, you’re treading water when you should be throwing your character off a cliff and forcing him to learn how to swim on the way down.”
He winced. “Ouch. Is that where you twist the knife?”
“That’s where I make it bleed for art,” she replied sweetly.
He flinched. “Jesus, you don’t hold back.”
For a second, she thought he might argue. His jaw twitched like he was gearing up for a defensive retort. But then?—
“You’re really good at this,” he said quietly, his voice a touch rougher than before.
“I know.”
He smiled, eyes lighting with something that made her stomach flip in a way she really didn’t appreciate.
“You’re also insufferable,” he added.
“There it is,” she said, tossing her pen onto the table with a grin.
They sat in the morning quiet for a moment. Not exactly friends. Not exactly enemies anymore. Something new and dangerous stretched between them—like a freshly laid fuse, just waiting for someone to strike a match.
“We’ve indulged in two kisses,” he said suddenly.
Her eyes narrowed. “I was pretending that neither one happened.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s easier than admitting I liked it.”
“You did?”
“I didn’t hate it.”
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, looking smug. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“And you’re annoyingly perceptive.”
The kettle whistled. She stood, trying to get a grip on herself, and poured water into a teapot.
Behind her, he said quietly, “So what now?”
“What do you mean?”
“This… thing between us. The goat wars. The feud. The attraction. The kiss that nearly broke time and space.”
