The Cottage Swap by Danielle Thorne

Author:Danielle Thorne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: christian inspirational romance, vacation romance novels, older woman romance books, love after divorce romance, midife crisis romance, irish romance, short clean romance stories, clean and sweet romance
Publisher: Danielle Thorne
Published: 2023-08-17T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

He had no choice, Dean told himself, as he followed Grace into O’Tooles. She’d spent her entire afternoon helping paint the ceiling when she was supposed to be on a sabbatical. Inviting her to dinner was a good way to pay her back, and she’d seemed happy to accept. They slipped inside and found an available table in the corner beneath beams strung with small, white lights that sparkled in the room. Moira was not in, but Desiree greeted them with a towel tied around her waist. Tráthnóna maith,” she said with a curious glint in her eye.

“Good evening to you.” Dean wondered why he felt sheepish. “How’s our favorite lass, and what’s for dinner?”

“Lamb stew tonight. Toasted bread and cheese.”

“Ooh,” sighed Grace dramatically. “I’m glad you insisted, Dean.”

He laughed. “Grace has discovered real cheeses,” he told Desiree.

“Has she now?” laughed the young woman.

They ordered the meal just as soft music began to drift from the speakers overhead. Two couples got up to dance, and Grace smiled.

“Young love,” Dean mused.

“And old,” giggled Grace.

The stocky and serious Mr. Walsh and his wife swayed on the dance floor to an eighties song beside a young couple. “I suppose music is the great equalizer.” Dean leaned back in his chair trying not to stare at Grace. It was hard because she was tucked into the chair across from him with eyes shining and her hair swept back from her shoulders.

She reached for her bottled water and took a sip. “We are from the same decade,” she reminded him after she set it down. “But only I knew all the words to Desperado today.”

Dean chuckled in the back of his throat at the teasing in her gaze. Her complexion was flawless; her eyes as woody as the bogs with small hazel flecks that accentuated the green around her irises. The corners of her lips crept up, and she looked away. “You say that like I’m too young for you,” Dean responded, surprising himself.

“I never said that.” Her eyes sparkled. “But I can tell you this: my ex was nine years my senior, and I don’t think I’ll ever do that again. Not unless there’s thunder and lightning or an earthquake after a lot of praying about it.”

“I think it’s how you treat each other that matters most,” said Dean gently. “I doubt his age had any impact on his choices.”

“Yes.” Grace lowered her eyes, and Dean wished it wouldn’t be too intimate to reach for her hand. “I was young, and it was too fast,” she continued. “Plus I definitely went into prayer with some schoolgirl bias.”

“And here I am not being a gentleman.” Dean motioned toward the dance floor. “Let’s dance.” Again, it was the least he could do, he told himself. She was on vacation, and a nice dance in a charming and historic pub might be a memory she might cherish. She didn’t have to know he had the urge to wrap her in his arms and comfort her.

“I’d love to dance.

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