Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Yeah, well, there were a lot of options.” He shrugs. “And I’ve never bought flowers before.”
“They’re beautiful. Let me put them down and then we can go.”
After putting the bouquet of flowers into a vase I find under the sink, I lock my door, and we head down the driveaway. “We can take my car,” I offer. Lachlan shakes his head, and that’s when I notice there’s a metallic blue BMW parked in the driveaway. “Is that your vehicle?” I don’t know a lot about cars, but it looks to be on the expensive side.
“Yeah, I haven’t really driven it since moving back to New York,” he admits, opening the door for me so I can get in. The inside is gorgeous, all black leather and new-age electronics. I know he makes a decent living working at Forbidden Ink, but I’m not sure how he could possibly afford a vehicle like this and live in such an expensive condo. Suddenly, I feel like there’s still a lot I don’t know about Lachlan.
We drive for about twenty minutes, until we arrive in downtown Brooklyn. Lachlan parks and we walk over to a restaurant called O’Connor’s. From the outside, it looks like one of the typical hole-in-the-wall restaurants that New York is littered with, but once we step inside, I’m amazed by the extravagance of the place. Elegant wood-panel walls, finished with crown-molding and high-vaulted ceilings are the first things I notice as we approach the hostess. When I glance around, I see an expansive bar off to the side. The back wall is mirrored glass, and the bar top is black shiny marble.
“Lachlan!” The woman manning the hostess stand comes around and gives Lachlan a hug. “It’s been a while. Does Declan know you’re here?”
“Yeah, he made a reservation for me,” he tells her. I didn’t even know Declan works here. Actually, I don’t really know much about him or any of Lachlan’s family. I know Lachlan’s parents are in Ireland, and I think someone in his family might own a distillery. I know one of his cousins owns the B & B, but other than that, I don’t know anything else.
“Perfect! Follow me to your table.” She takes us to a small table in the back, away from the other tables. “Your waiter will be right with you.” She hands us each a menu.
Once she’s out of hearing range, I set my menu down and look at Lachlan. “You know, I was just thinking that you know my family and friends, but I feel like I don’t know a whole lot about you.”
“That’s actually what tonight is about,” he admits. “With my parents out of the country, I realized I haven’t shared a lot about myself with you, so tonight our date will double as a crash course in everything Bryson.” He winks playfully. “Starting with my best friend and cousin, Declan O’Connor.”
“Hey, man!” Declan comes into view and clasps his hand on Lachlan’s shoulder. “Quinn.” He nods with a smile. “Welcome to O’Connor’s.”
“Wait!” I exclaim, putting the pieces together. “You own this place?”
“That I do.” He grins. “Every Irish family needs at least one pub.”
I can’t help the laugh that escapes past my lips. “This is hardly a pub.” It’s an upscale restaurant. I peeked at the prices on the menu, and they’re no joke.
“Eh, semantics,” Declan jokes, before bidding us a good dinner and excusing himself, just as the waiter comes over to take our drink order. Lachlan orders a water, so I do the same.
“Where I’m taking you next has alcohol,” Lachlan explains.
“And where’s that?” I have a feeling I know, but I want him to tell me.
“Not falling for that.” He laughs.
“So, Declan owns a pub, and your cousin Kiara owns a B & B. Any other family members own any restaurants or hotels in the area?”
“Nope, although, my aunt and uncle own a corner store in Galway.”
“Is Galway where you’re from?”
“It’s where my parents were raised.”
When I grin, Lachlan asks, “What?”
“It’s like that song by Ed Sheeran…Galway Girl.”
Lachlan laughs. “I’m a guy.”
“Yeah, but I bet you dated tons of Galway girls.” I waggle my eyebrows, and he shakes his head.
When the waiter returns with our drinks, we order our food. I get the scallops, and Lachlan gets the steak. We spend the rest of the meal with Lachlan telling me about his aunts and uncles and all of his cousins.
“Declan and I are leaving the weekend after Thanksgiving for our cousin Emily’s wedding,” he says, taking a bite of food.
“That will be fun. In Ireland?”
“Yeah.”
“How long will you be gone for?” I take a sip of my water, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach at the memory of every time Rick would let me know he was leaving. Lachlan isn’t Rick, though, and I have to remember that.