He enjoyed the hours of research, especially when he knew his efforts helped conserve the land. He enjoyed his efforts, but he was wiped out. The only reason his ass was still seated behind his desk was because he was too tired to take the lift to his flat.
He tapped a finger on his phone screen, pretending he wasn’t waiting for a message from Bébhinn. They had been communicating daily for two months. He readily admitted that he looked forward to those moments more than anything else.
Theirs was a platonic friendship, yet he knew her better than any woman he’d ever dated. Gone was the melancholy that hadplagued him for months before meeting her. He felt satisfied and rejuvenated in his personal and professional life.
His personal life consisted solely of staying in touch with his friends, with the occasional drinks out. He hadn’t asked a woman out on a date since he’d met Bébhinn. His jaw flexed in frustration at himself.
Mentally, he was back to being at the top of his game. Why wasn’t he dating? Why did the idea seem like a waste of time?
He’d made up his mind before that hike to stop dating casually and look for a real-life partner. That couldn’t happen if he never looked.
Knowing what he should be doing, but what he was contemplating doing—what he was going to do, rather—was driving him crazy.
“Fuck it.” He picked up his phone and texted.
Dagr: Want to grab a drink tonight?
Nervous sweat prickled his neck even as wavy dots appeared on his screen.
Bébhinn: Of course, but you never mentioned you were coming to Dublin. Business?
Shit. Shit. Shit.Should he lie?
Dagr: No business. I planned to fly to Wales and thought I’d detour to see one of my favorite people.
Christ, you idiot. What are you, a seventy-year-old doting granddad?
Bébhinn: I’ll even let you buy me an appetizer. Let me know when your flight arrives, and I’ll pick you up.
Dagr: Not necessary. I’ll rent a car. I’m taking the ferry after we meet anyway.
Bébhinn: I’ll pick you up. You can rent a car at one of the places near the ferry when you buy your ticket.
Dagr: Stubborn. Fine. I’ll text you the info soon.
She hearted his last text. He realized he was still sitting in his office grinning five minutes later.
“Shit!” He cursed as he jumped up. His earlier exhaustion evaporated. He had to get home, pack, and make flight arrangements.
He’d barely made it to Heathrow before his flight left, running through the terminal like a madman. Grabbing a commercial flight took less time to book than hiring a private one, so he booked the first available.
He emerged from the stifling, over-peopled maze of the airport onto the equally crowded outdoor ride pickup zone. He’d texted Bébhinn ten minutes ago and knew she had immediately gotten in the car queue.
And sure enough, he saw her Jeep six cars back and immediately hustled toward her. The minute their eyes met, they both grinned and waved. He didn’t even have to wonderabout his reaction. He’d missed her. They’d met briefly by chance and had become close friends by an even greater chance.
He tossed his duffel and briefcase in the backseat and shut himself inside the lavender-infused Jeep cab. He knew from their many conversations that she loved lavender.
She pulled out into the passing lane, maneuvering competently between the lanes of traffic, leaving the airport before they spoke.
“So where are you taking me, Miss O’Faolain?”
She grinned at him briefly before returning her eyes to the road. “A quiet pub near my place that has the best loaded fries.”
“Fries? How very American of you,” he teased.
“Hey, both my parents might have Irish surnames, but I am half American for all that. You don’t even want to know what an Oklahoma calf fry is.”
Dagr instantly googled it and regretted it immediately. “Christ. No, thank you.” Bull testicles. He felt bile rise in his throat.
