Page 83 of Beside Golden Irish Fields
Her heart knocked against her ribs. She hadn’t done anything like that for him. Suddenly she wished she had. “Do you want me to run over to Super Value and grab you some chocolates?”
He waved their server back over. “You remember I like chocolate, huh?”
“You’ve been eating my chocolate chip cookies for decades,” she said, gaping when their server popped open a bottle of Dom Perignon. “Donal! Are you crazy?”
“He brought the champagne for you after arranging it with us,” their server said with a wink. “You’re one lucky woman.”
Donal gestured for the woman to give her the first taste. “Heaven,” she said after taking a sip. She’d only had it once. With Wyatt and Rhys, her wine lovers.
When the woman left, Donal lifted his glass. “To Bets O’Hanlon. The most beautiful woman in the world.”
Warmth radiated from the center of her chest. “Donal, you didn’t have to do all of this.”
He extended his glass toward her, and she tapped it gently with hers. “I wanted to. I like seeing you smile. And frown at me too, wondering what I’m about.”
She raised a brow at him. “It’s a date. Of course I know what you’re about. We both agreed we were horny.”
“And I told you sex wasn’t all I was interested in,” he said, his green eyes direct. “Let me romance you a little.”
“What’s next? A hot air balloon ride?”
“If you’d like,” he said with a grin.
Now she was downright suspicious. She was going to test him. “What if I wanted to fly to Paris next week?”
“I’d ask you what day you wanted to leave and make the arrangements. Would the George V Hotel be okay?”
She had to set her champagne glass down. “How do you even know about that hotel?”
“I’ve been to Paris, Bets,” he said, chuckling. “Something you would know if you’d pretend we were on a blind date and ask me about myself. I used to love to travel, but then the family and the farm took so much of my time.”
She knew that story by heart.
“But I traveled every chance I got when I was in university,” he said. “Afterward, I even worked in Boston for a year as a server in a pretty posh restaurant. I’ve always had a fondness for Americans because of that. I met some wonderful people.”
She clutched her glass. “How did I not know that?”
“We’ve always talked about the village stuff or the farm stuff or our families, I suppose. Other pursuits fade with age, but I miss traveling. It’s one of the reasons why I know we’d be good together.”
Her heart knocked against her ribs as he held her gaze.
“You like to explore and travel, and it’s high time I get back to doing the same. I’m sixty-three, and I have a hell of a lot more living to do. Besides, sheep farming is a young man’s game, and I’ve been making plans of my own. But that’s talk for another night. So… Do you want to go to Paris next week?”
She had to set her glass down and grip the edge of the table to steel herself against the wave of longing that swept through her. “But your sheep… The farm.”
“I’ve hired a helper to give me some freedom, and Dad can throw a hand in if something major comes up. He might be ninety-three, but he’s still spry.”
Hewasserious. “Donal, I don’t know what to say.”
“Think on that while we order.” He reached for her clenched hand and put a menu in it. “I’d give you the world, Betsy O’Hanlon.”
She was glad she was sitting down. “But why?”
He let out a heavy sigh. “Why wouldn’t I? I care for you. It’s what you do when you feel like this.”
Her diaphragm tightened. Feel like what? She was too afraid to ask.
“Let’s order,” she said, burying her head in the menu.
