Chapter 9

“I have a headache.”

Colin rolled his eyes as Gwen steered Ellie towards the car. “No you don’t.”

“I do,” Ellie insisted. “I don’t want to insult the man by appearing uninterested. We should reschedule.”

Gwen dragged her friend into the vehicle. “This man did not just fly five thousand miles for you to get cold feet. It’s time to put on your big girl panties, Eleanor.”

She tried again. “I thought our conversation at the mixer was a disaster.”

“He obviously didn’t,” Gwen retorted. “Buckle up and get ready for a ride.”

Gwen, who had been flat-sitting for Ellie while she was in the States, had arrived yesterday for moral support. After the morning he’d had listening to Ellie come up with every possible excuse as to why she should back out of her and Reginald’s date (which Reg had flown into Dublin for), Colin was grateful for Gwen’s backup. She must’ve known Ellie would balk.

“I forget what he does for a living,” Ellie said, her voice panicky as the driver pulled out from in front of Reilly’s cottage.

“If you’d read the damn dossier, you would know these things,” Colin replied evenly, though his patience was close to snapping. “Reginald is in international finance.”

“Is he good looking?” Gwen asked, intrigued.

“Does it matter?” Ellie groused, sandwiched between Gwen and Colin. She looked grumpily out the front window and crossed her arms.

Gwen patted her on the shoulder. “Of course it does. Colin, do you have a picture? El, surely you remember that spark of excitement you get when you’re attracted to someone.”

Colin avoided looking at Ellie, instead busying himself with his phone, then handed it over to Gwen when Reg’s picture appeared. “Here.”

Gwen peered at the photo. “Oh. Wow, okay. Wow. He looks like—”

“Superman,” Ellie muttered.

“What?” Colin choked out. “I can assure you, he’s no Superman.”

“No, but he looks like the guy who played him in the remake,” Gwen said, her voice fluttery.

“Henry Cavill?” Colin squinted at the picture. The resemblance was definitely there.

Unfortunately.

Gwen snapped her fingers. “Yes, that’s it. I wonder if they’re related?”

Ellie sighed. “That’s what one of the women at the mixer asked.”

Colin hurriedly tucked his phone into his pocket, annoyance flashing across his features. “Let’s go over what the ground rules are.”

“We’ve already done that twice,” Ellie said.

“Well, we’re going to do it again!” he barked, then pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d matched many people over the years. He could tell when people were going to hit it off, when the date was destined for disaster, and when two people were so perfectly matched for one another that he wouldn’t be able to hold them to the rules even if he hog-tied them both and locked them in separate buildings.

And, after the mixer and multiple phone calls, Colin had a distinct, terrible, horrible feeling that the new-and-improved Reginald and Ellie were suited in more ways than he cared to admit. The number of boxes that each person checked off for the other was mind blowing.

And heart wrenching.

“No more than two drinks in the course of the night,” he intoned. “No discussing money, religion, politics, or exes. Focus on getting to know each other’s likes and dislikes—”

Ellie groaned loudly. “Colin. I get it. Your rules are emblazoned on my brain.”

He swallowed hard. “Good.”

“I wonder what he has planned,” Gwen wondered, her voice excited. “You have to admit this is a little fun, Eleanor! The mystery of it all…it’s so romantic. He took a private plane all the way from…where was he?”

“After the mixer he had business in Italy,” Colin muttered. Because of course the man couldn’t have come from somewhere just a little less romantic. “He flew in from Rome.”

“Rome to Dublin! It’s all so exciting!” Gwen bubbled.

Ellie, for her part, didn’t say a word. She seemed to be focusing on her breathing.

“You’re going to have a good time.” He nudged Ellie with his knee. “You two will discuss something nerdy, like lights and existentialism, and the time will fly by. Rainbows will sprout wherever you walk, and unicorns will prance under them in joy.”

Ellie shot a death glare at him. “I hate dating.”

He chuckled at her fierce expression. “I know. But you did agree to try it, so here we are.”

When the car pulled up to the curb off Grafton Street in downtown Dublin, Colin immediately saw Reginald standing in front of a tiny pub, looking nervous.

That was a first. Normally the man exuded annoyance more than anything else.

“Oh, my,” Gwen murmured, fanning herself a little. “He. Is. Beautiful. Remember to text me if you need a save…” She trailed off, sliding another look at the handsome man, then bussed Ellie’s cheek with her own. “Or to let me know that you won’t be coming home.”

A sick feeling settled in the pit of Colin’s stomach. Every fiber of his being was fighting him as he said, “Come on, I’ll do the reintroductions.”

As Ellie exited the car, he took in her outfit. Gone was the librarian look, and in its place was a wrap dress that perfectly outlined her toned, lithe figure. Ankle boots, some bohemian jewelry, and long, loose waves in her hair completed the eclectic, yet perfectly Ellie, look.

Gwen winked at him, and he knew it was all her doing.

Colin swallowed past the unwelcome tide of jealousy and took her elbow. “This way.” Take her back to the car, Colin.

He could feel her trembling, and when he caught sight of Reginald’s appreciative look, he resisted the overwhelming urge to shove her back in the car and race away.

Take her home.

Let her go.

Don’t be an ass.

Don’t be selfish.

And, though it was the hardest thing he’d ever done, he put on a smile and led her over to her date.

• • •

Ellie strolled alongside Reginald, impressed and a little awed by the man. Their walking tour of Dublin’s literary sights had finished that evening by seven, and they ate a delicious dinner before taking a walk along the River Liffey.

Ellie liked him. He was kind and considerate, though she could tell his manners were a bit practiced. But she took that as a compliment, that he thought she was worthy of putting his best foot forward.

“I have a confession,” she said, stopping to admire the view from the middle of the pedestrian bridge. It was strange how unintimidated she was by him, even though he was clearly from old money. And old money in Britain was not always, but quite often, a sign of titles and estates and aristocracy. When she offered to split the dinner bill, he looked at her in surprise, as though such a thing were foreign to him (and which he politely declined). His clothing was understated but expensive; his taste in everything from books to music, refined. He was classically trained in piano, a graduate of Eton, Harvard, and ultimately Cambridge, and he had spent years traveling the globe.

Yet even as she anticipated the swell of panic such a man of power normally evoked, Ellie felt at ease with him. He told her of his family, his work, and his short-term plans. She told him what it was like to run a London bookshop and about her aunt. They hadn’t stopped talking since they started their date.

“A confession? I’m all ears.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I have never been able to finish Ulysses.”

Reg burst out laughing. “Well, that is surprising, coming from a bookshop owner!”

She giggled. “I know. It’s just that I can’t seem to get past the first fifty pages. It bores me to tears.”

He turned fully to her. “Who do you like, then? Other than, of course, Fitzgerald.”

She stared out over the river, the twinkling lights on the water reminding her of Boston, though they looked completely different. Focus on Reginald, not Colin. She slid a glance to her date, noting how his eyes never strayed from her face. He’d been a gentleman all night, and his interest in her was unmistakable.

“Jonathan Swift, Bram Stoker, Oscar Wilde…”

“Those are some of the Irish greats, absolutely. What Englishmen do you enjoy?”

“Charles Dickens, Jane Austen, oh! And Chaucer, of course.”

“Any others?”

She noticed he stepped closer, and though she didn’t tense, she didn’t not tense, either.

“Shakespeare, definitely. I’m sure there are others.”

He stepped closer to her. “Any other Brits that you might fancy?” He leaned closer, his cologne drifting over her senses, and Ellie knew he was going to kiss her.

And she was going to let him.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and his lips gently settled over hers. He slowly wrapped his arms around her, and she embraced him, but something was off.

She tilted her head, hoping to change the angle, and he responded. She opened her lips, and his tongue found hers, and there was…nothing.

Not even a hint of desire.

She carefully extricated herself from his arms and searched his face. He looked amazed, blown away, thrilled—and she wondered if maybe she missed something.

She studied him for a moment, confused by herself. She should be swooning with delight; he was everything she’d always dreamed about as a girl, before Andrew smashed her teenage dreams straight on through to reality. Reg was damn near perfect. But there was one thing he was not.

And that one thing was standing between her and a happily ever after.

Move on, Eleanor. You can’t change Colin’s mind. Happiness is a choice.

She glanced into Reginald’s deep blue eyes, then wrapped her arms around one of his and started to stroll. “Yes, Reginald. I am definitely interested in another Brit.”

• • •

Gwen eyed Ellie speculatively. “So the date was awesome?”

“It was.”

“Did he kiss you?”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Yes, he kissed me.”

Gwen squealed, then paused. “Wait a second. I know that look.”

“You know nothing. I liked Reginald. He was very nice. He’s a good kisser.”

Gwen stared at her, perplexed. “Are you serious, Eleanor? You’re just going to walk away?”

Ellie drew back. “What? No. I said I liked him.”

“Not Reginald! Colin!” At Ellie’s vehement head shake, Gwen narrowed her eyes. “I’ve known you for more years than either of us care to admit. You want Colin. Why not go after him? I’ve seen the looks you shoot him. The house might burn down from the heat.”

“Am I that obvious?” Ellie moaned.

“Is that bad? He is very kind. And he’s not hard on the eyes…”

“You’re not wrong on that account. But he’s off-limits, Gwen.”

Gwen threw her a skeptical look. “Um, are you listening to the spoken words or the unspoken ones? Because I’m telling you, the sparks fly when you two are near each other.”

Ellie cast her eyes to the floor. “Please, Gwen. Not this time. No pep talk. He made it perfectly clear, without mincing any words, that he is not interested in me, at least in any meaningful way.”

“Ouch.”

“Yes, ouch. And despite how handsome he is, there can never be anything between us. So I will happily get to know Reg further.”

“He did look like Superman.”

Ellie laughed. “He did.”

“Yet somehow, Colin is hotter.”

“We’re back on him again?”

“What? I mean, James is, too. It makes you wonder. How is it that one family—”

“Has so many good genes?” Emma asked, popping her head in the room. She grinned. “Sorry, door was open a little. But you know, I often ask myself the same question about these men.”

Gwen grinned. “It’s a valid one. Are you leaving?” she asked, noting the jacket slung over Emma’s arm.

“I am,” Emma said. “Aidan’s itching to get home anyway. I need some time to think of a good strategy for Ellie going forward—we want to have a backup plan just in case things don’t work out with a candidate. I also need to look into a security detail, at least until the paparazzi settles down. They’re still outside your flat, Ellie.”

Gwen nodded in confirmation.

“Security?” Ellie choked. “But it’s been almost a month!”

“Oh, I won’t put the detail on you until you get back to England,” Emma reassured her. “You’re safe here; no one knows you’re in the country. You and Colin can determine when you should go back. I’ll be in touch in the next few days; if you need anything, please call me.”

“Thanks.”

With a wave over her shoulder, Emma disappeared as quickly as she’d come.

• • •

The next morning, after a sleepless night, Colin sat at his cousin’s kitchen table and brooded. When Ellie finally returned from her date, she’d been quiet and pensive, and had gone straight to her room without talking to him, though she did wish him a pleasant night. He could hear her and Gwen talking in low voices, and the occasional laugh or giggle would trickle through the walls.

“Good morning.” Gwen gave him a sleepy smile as she headed directly for the teakettle. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thanks.”

“Liar. You look like hell.” She turned the kettle on and leaned on the counter, her arms folded.

He raised a brow. “Thanks.”

“Sorry. Sometimes my filter doesn’t work.”

“You have one?”

“Ha ha. So last night went really well. I’m impressed—Ellie had nothing but nice things to say about Reg. And that’s saying something, as she normally hates dating.” Gwen watched him carefully. “You really do seem to know what you’re doing. This guy couldn’t have been more perfectly suited to her.”

“Glad to hear it,” he replied.

“Yeah, sure you are. So what’s it like?”

He glanced at her, confused.

She clarified, “You know, warring with yourself all the time?”

“Come again?”

“You put on the act pretty well, but I can see right through it. And if you’re not careful, Ellie will too. Which will be a shame after all the work you’ve done to convince her that you’re not that into her.”

Colin, speechless, just stared at her. His throat worked, the denial on the tip of his tongue, but the words simply wouldn’t come.

“If you can’t make her happy, then leave her the hell alone. I say that with all the kindness in my soul.”

And, despite the harsh words, they were delivered in such a gentle tone that Colin couldn’t possibly take any offense. Instead, he took them to heart.

The kettle whistled and she poured herself a cup of tea, then joined him at the table. “Do you have any other dates planned for her as of yet?”

“Wait a second,” Ellie exclaimed, joining them in the kitchen. “I thought that I got to decide if I wanted a second date before we moved on to a new candidate.”

“So you want a second date?” Colin asked, his hand shaking slightly as he reached for his coffee. He snatched it back and tried to look interested in her answer.

“Well…I think so. What do you do with clients the day after a first date?”

Colin straightened, determined to be the professional he was.

Well, had been—before he’d met Ellie.

He shook his head to clear it of muddling thoughts. “We go over the date itself, work through any issues you found, decide if you want to see the guy again. Then I’ll call Reginald and get his perspective on it. If you’re both interested in a second date, I’ll give you each the other’s number, and I’m out of it until you notify me that it either didn’t work out and need a new candidate, or what the wedding date will be.”

“I think that’s jumping the gun a little,” Ellie replied wryly.

Colin shrugged, hoping it came off as nonchalant. “I’ve told you this before. Celtic Connections deals with life partners. Marriages are the end goal. So if you can potentially see yourself with Reg long-term, then we discuss the date.”

Say no, he silently implored her, keeping his expression bland. But say yes.

Slowly, she drew a breath. “He took me on the most perfect date I’ve ever had.”

“Oh?” Colin tried to remain a bit distant, but his heart was thudding so loudly he could barely hear anything over it. He even thought he felt a bead of sweat roll down his back.

Get it together, O’Rourke. The man isn’t perfect. He didn’t win her in a single date.

“He took me on a literary tour of Dublin,” she revealed. And then she smiled a soft, private smile at Gwen, and all the air vanished from Colin’s lungs.

She could fall for this guy. But she’s not your mate, right? his inner voice sniped, causing him to knock over the coffee cup, spilling the hot liquid all over the table.

Gwen shot him a look that spoke volumes, but Ellie had already turned to get towels, so she missed it. By the time everything was cleaned up, James had joined them.

“Hey, Gwen, nice to see you again. So, I hear you went on a date, Ellie. Has Col gone through the checklist of follow-up questions with you yet?” James asked, his face a perfect mask of interest and innocence.

“We’re just getting started,” Ellie replied, dumping the soaked towels into the sink and handing Colin a fresh cup.

James smiled encouragingly at her. “I remember some of them. Col, you go ahead and dig it up from your files and I’ll start.”

“Thanks,” he muttered.

James winked at him. “Of course! I worked at the company for a little while, while I was waiting for my residency to start. I always loved hearing the different versions of the date from both sides. If I remember correctly, there are three main questions. The first one is: Did you enjoy yourself?”

Ellie nodded. “We went on a walking literary tour of Dublin and discussed all sorts of fun stuff, like how Wilde’s works compared to Yates’s in style and scope—”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” James cut in, his eyes wide. “That has to be the most boring date idea ever.”

Ellie smirked at him. “Bookshop owner, remember?”

James whistled through his teeth. “Ah, he’s good. That was smart of him. Dinner too?”

“Yes—private dinner at The Clarence.”

“Not the best restaurant in the city,” Colin felt compelled to point out.

Ellie raised her eyebrows at him. “At one of the pubs we stopped at, I mentioned that I enjoyed U2’s music, and he changed our reservations because Bono and the Edge own that hotel.”

“Smooth,” James murmured. “So I take it that you did in fact enjoy yourself?”

“Very much.”

“Colin, you have your list up yet?”

Colin resisted the urge to wrap his hands around his brother’s neck. Why had James decided that this morning was a good time to stir the damn pot?

“The next question is a bit personal, but it’s important to answer it honestly,” Colin intoned, burying his dread deep. You can do this, O’Rourke. Just ask the question. He drew a breath, schooled his features into the blandest expression he could muster, and coughed out, “Was there any physical affection between you last evening?”

Ellie flushed a deep red—the same red that had crept so quickly up her neck when they were together in Reilly’s garden weeks ago. She looked lovely when she was flustered.

Stop.

“Yes.”

The single word shattered him in ways he didn’t even know he could break. James slid him a sympathetic look, but Colin tapped on his keyboard as though he were methodically completing the questionnaire, when in reality, he had no idea what was in front of him. All he could see was red.

After a too-long pause, Gwen asked, “What’s the next question?”

Colin swallowed past a dry spot in his throat. “Do you want to see him again?” He didn’t look up from his screen until he was certain that his face showed nothing but mild, professional interest.

Ellie studied him a moment, then her mask fell just the slightest bit. If he hadn’t been watching for it, he wouldn’t have seen it—but he had, and he hated himself for it.

You would have to give up everything, he reminded himself. No expansion into the UK. Smear campaign from her aunt. All that, just to make her miserable as I travel all over the time continuum. I’ll have ruined both our lives.

And I’ll have nothing to show for my own.

He remained impassive, as though the next word out of her mouth wouldn’t kill him inside.

“Yes.”

Colin typed more gibberish on his screen, then closed the cover. “I’ll let you know what he says, and if he feels the same, I’ll have his phone number for you in just a few hours.”