Page 124 of Twist of Fate
Yeah.
I don’t doubt she would understand once I explained it all, but I just don’t want to be that guy yet. To her, I’ve only ever been just Finn Larkin, the tour guide. I don’t want to lose that yet.
Eventually, I’ll tell her who I really am—Finn Larkin-O’Connell—heir to O’Connell Tours, but not today.
Today, I just want it to be this.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as we turn a corner. I pull it out just as Ash asks, “You want to grab a coffee? I could probably use a break from walking.”
I glance down at the caller ID and see my mam’s name. My brows furrow. I can’t recall the last time she called me.
I’ll call her back later.
“Sure,” I reply, sending my phone to voicemail and turning it off for good measure. I have only a few hours left with this girl, and I want to be completely present for every single one of them.
She grabs a table while I order coffee and scones from the counter. While I’m waiting, I see her texting someone. From her goofy smile, I know she must be checking in with her mam. The woman is probably plying her for details on our date.
Is this a date?
We haven’t exactly put a label on it.
I’m not even sure how you’d label any of this. The instant attraction. The connection. The burning pain in my chest that I feel whenever I think about her leaving tomorrow.
Bollocks.
“Have that coffee for you.” I double blink, turning back to the counter, where the woman who rang me up is setting ceramic cups and plates in front of me. “Right, yeah. Thanks.”
It takes two trips, but I manage to get everything to the table. Ash is already helping herself to the cream and sugar by the time I take the seat across from her.
“Was that your mom you were texting?” I ask. I already know it was her, but it feels strange not to ask.
“Yeah. She wanted to let me know she’s more than happy to duck out of the hotel room for a few hours if we need it.”
“What?” I nearly choke on my coffee, laughing. “Your mam actually said that?”
“Yeah, she’s something else. She has an unhealthy interest in my love life.”
“It’s sweet,” I say, taking a chunk off my orange scone. “Albeit a bit invasive, but sweet.”
“A bit?” She scoffs. “She literally just offered us a love nest, Finn.”
“Well, tell her thanks, but remind her I have a flat just across town. We’re all set.” She stares at me. I wink, and she breaks out into a fit of laughter. “I’m kidding, Ash.”
Mostly.
Sort of.
I mean, I wouldn’t be against it.
The topic thankfully moves on because the thought of Ash in my apartment, splayed out on my bed naked, while I unleash every fantasy I’ve had over the last week is beyond tempting.
“Why did I think scones were horrible?”
I watch her pop a piece of the pastry into her mouth and try not to fixate on how her tongue glides over her lips. “What?” I ask, feeling a bit dazed.
“Scones,” she repeats. “I always thought they were these dry, flavorless little things. But I’m pretty sure I’ve eaten about three dozen since I got here, and I have to say I’m a big fan.”
I let out a deep rumble of laughter because, Christ, she’s cute. “Well, the Republic of Ireland thanks you for your patronage.”
