His Galway Girl: Curvy Girl and Irishman Holiday Romance by Lana Dash

Author:Lana Dash [Dash, Lana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-04T16:00:00+00:00

5

GRACE

The streets are already packed with people ready for the St. Patrick’s Day parade. I’m not expecting the sight I see when I open my apartment door the next morning and find Aidan standing there.

“Whoa!” I can’t hold back the chuckle that comes out of me. “If you aren’t careful, people will think you’re actually an American wearing that shirt.”

The Kelly Green, 'Kiss Me, I'm Irish!' shirt stretches tight against his muscled chest as he laughs. And I’m tempted to do what he shirt tells me to do.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“I’m ready,” I say as I close and lock the door behind me. “But are you ready for the chaos of uninhibited drinking of green beer and ungodly amounts of corned beef?”

“My people have survived worse.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I laugh.

Aidan takes my hand in his, and it fits just like it did all those years ago. I know that I should set the ground rules that this day isn't a date but two friends just hanging out, but the connection I felt back then feels just as strong today. Am I crazy trying to reason this feeling away? It doesn't come around often, maybe once in a lifetime. And do I really think I'm going to be able to walk away from this unscathed?

“Grace?”

“Yeah?” I look up at him, pushing away the complicated questions floating around in my brain.

“I don’t know,” he says, his brow furrowed in concern. “You looked like you were off somewhere else.”

I squeeze his hand to reassure him. “I’m right here.”

We walk together down the street, listening to the live music, watching the Irish dancers, and trying a ton of the food from the booths that are set up. We stop at some of the booths selling Irish trinkets and knick-knacks, and I buy something to give to Aidan later. We're so wrapped up in all the excitement around us, neither one of us hears Rosemary calling my name—at first.

“Grace!”

We both stop and turn to see her as she makes her way slowly through the crowded sidewalk, waving her arm above her head to get our attention—some drunk guy in a plastic green boiler hat high-fives her waving arm as she passes.

Aidan and I both try to smother our laughter. We aren't drunk, but we have already consumed one and a half green beers, and I know I'm starting to feel a buzz.

"There you are," Rosemary says when she reaches us. "I've been calling and calling."

I pull my phone out of my purse and see I’ve missed three calls from her. I hold up my cell phone. “I couldn’t hear it over the music.”

“The Irish singers that Grandad hired for tonight had to cancel,” she says. “He knows that he promised you the night off, but we can’t not have entertainment on our biggest night of the year. People are canceling their reservations left and right because they wanted to see an authentic Irish singer perform today.”

I look over at Aidan.

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