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She pulled back and stared at the screen. The photo had already received more likes, even in the time she’d been standing here. Professional photographers were commenting on the color and the composition and the lighting while other people commented on the location. Niall read some along with her.

I’ve always wanted to go to the Aran Islands!

That’s Dún Duchathair.

Look at those clouds! 😍

“They love it,” Niall said proudly.

“Look, there are some about you,” Cordelia said.

Helloooooo, Irish hottie!

That is a good-looking man on a good-looking cliff.

Another was just a series of fire emojis.

“Ah,” Niall said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well. Huh.”

Cordelia pressed her face into his chest and began to laugh. She laughed and laughed and Niall held her, grinning.

“Think this is funny, do ya?” he teased. “Your man is quite popular with the Instagram folk it seems.” It was a bit weird, but Niall didn’t care. He only cared that Cordelia was happy and getting the accolades she deserved.

“My Irish hottie,” she said, leaning up on her toes to kiss him.

There was a pounding on the door. “Oi!” Róisín called.

“Shit,” Niall said, hurrying to pick his shirt up off the floor. He was buttoning it up as Cordelia opened the door.

“I’m surprised you knocked,” she said wryly.

“I didn’t want to disturb,” Róisín said.

“You always want to disturb.”

Róisín cackled. “Well, I didn’t want to burst in on Niall in naught but his birthday suit.”

Cordelia turned bright red and Niall groaned. “Enough of that, Róisín, you’ve got to see this.”

“My picture,” Cordelia said, still sounding stunned as she handed Róisín the phone.

“Now that’s a grand photo of our Niall, isn’t it.” She patted Niall on the shoulder. “Is that at the Black Fort? Oh yes, wait, I see the title now: Niall at the Black Fort.” She frowned. “That’s a bit obvious, isn’t it, Cordie?”

“People like it,” Cordelia said.

“Of course they do, they’d be blind not to.” Róisín gave back the phone. “Go on then, put one up of me. That’s what the people are really wanting to see.”

Niall laughed and Cordelia blinked at them. “Should I?”

“Yes!” Róisín cried as Niall nodded.

“Okay,” she said, and Niall’s stomach flipped to see the pure, unadulterated joy on her face, the excitement as she scrolled through her photographs. She chose the black-and-white one of Róisín and Brigid, the first picture of hers Niall had ever seen.

“Maybe tell one of Róisín’s stories along with it,” he suggested.

“Yes!” Cordelia exclaimed. “Like Humans of New York. Except it’s Humans of Inishmore. I could do a whole series! Róisín, tell me the story of how the púca saved Brigid again.”

“Ah, well, it was a cold and windy day, it was,” Róisín began as Cordelia’s fingers flashed across her keyboard. “And he was in the shape of a rabbit, a big brown hare with these golden eyes and sharp, pointy ears …”