Megan

Zander set the chopper down at a private hanger in Dalkey, where a shiny black Defender waited to take them to Finnegan’s.

“My baby!” Devon crooned stroking the flawless black paint job of the SUV.

“I’m beginning to think Eggsy and your car rate higher than me,” Sam teased.

“Never, my love,” Devon replied, sweeping Sam off her feet and twirling her around.

“Okay, knock it off. Yer in love, we get it,” Zander remarked. “Honestly, I don’t know how ye put up with them, Megan.”

Megan laughed. “Trust me, it’s nauseating. But when I find my Prince Charming I’m sure I’ll be just as gag-worthy.”

“I’m home for two minutes and yer already starting in, eh mate?” Devon replied.

Zander elbowed Devon playfully. “Ye wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Devon put Sam down and the boys fake wrestled each other around the car while Eggsy tried to pounce on them, his barking echoing through the hanger.

Megan couldn’t help laughing. Devon was in high spirits being back on Irish soil. She rarely saw him act so lively. He clearly loved Sam and enjoyed his time in Boston, but he always seemed a bit out of sorts in the states—like he was permanently stuck in a different time zone or something. But Devon was obviously in his element back in Ireland, roughhousing with his friend and his dog.

Megan wondered if Devon secretly longed to come back to Ireland for good. She’d never heard him mention it, but watching him now made her think it must be what was in his heart.

Sam walked over to Megan and leaned against the car, crossing her long legs in front of her. She had a smile on her face as she watched the boys goofing off.

“Dev really loves it here, doesn’t he?” Megan asked.

Sam bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah.”

“What’s wrong?” Megan asked as she watched Sam’s sea-glass eyes get misty.

“Nothing, it’s just good to see him so happy. The last time we were here he was still holding on to the loss of his father.”

Megan took Sam’s hand in hers and squeezed. “Time heals those kinds of wounds.”

“I know.”

“For you too,” Megan said, knowing it still couldn’t be easy for Sam to return to the country where she’d buried her mother.

Sam squeezed her hand back. “Thanks, Meg.”

“I’m really glad we got to come to Ireland together,” Megan said, staring out the open doors of the hanger at the lush green landscape dissolving into the fading light.

“Me too,” Sam replied. “And I’m sorry I was short with you on the plane. I just want to see you happy.”

“That makes two of us.”

Sam laughed and just like that everything felt right with them again. Megan loved that their friendship was so easy. She knew Sam was stressed with school and that coming back to Ireland had never been easy for her. It held a lot of heartache for her. It’s where she lost her mother to cancer as a child and where Devon lost his father to the same illness just three years ago. And it was where Sam and Devon almost lost each other.

Megan was grateful that Sam had even agreed to come back for the study abroad program.

Sam had been instrumental in setting it up with Cor-Tec. She’d even asked her father to set up a film grant so Megan could be hired to work on their corporate film campaign. It was a great opportunity and Megan was thankful for it.

She hadn’t grown up with a lot of money like Sam or Devon. For a while it was just Megan and her mom, and they worked for everything they had. But Megan appreciated the way she was raised. It taught her the value of hard work and to appreciate everything. It’s why she treated the little things like big things, because to Megan, they were. She knew tomorrow and happiness were not guaranteed in life, and she wanted to make the most of every moment.

“Come on,” Megan said pulling Sam by the hand. “Let’s get this adventure started.”

Zander

Zander let Devon drive his precious Defender to Finnegan’s after he whined like the prissy bloke he was. America and love were making Devon soft, in Zander’s opinion. But truthfully, Zander didn’t mind. He just liked giving Devon a hard time. He’d missed his best mate.

Devon had only been back to visit once since he decided to follow Sam to Boston.

And Zander didn’t blame him. Sam was a fine lass. Hell, Zander had even tried to pursue her when they’d first met. But in the end, he knew the better bloke had won. Sam and Devon were suited for each other. But sometimes Zander still couldn’t help feeling bitter. Devon and Sam had been his friends, but they were also two more people he cared about who left him behind.

But as Zander slid into the back seat with Megan, his resentment melted away. She wiggled her curvy hips right up against him as she settled next to him so she could gaze out his window. His ego was thrilled that she was blatantly taken with him. The girl wasn’t shy. She took every opportunity to touch him.

Megan’s hand rested on Zander’s thigh as she pointed out the window. He lapped it up, putting his own arm around her waist and pulling her closer as he narrated the scenery they passed, making up outlandish stories just to hear Megan giggle.

“And that there’s where Dev and I got caught streaking in old Patty Malone’s field.”

“Quit filling her head with lies,” Devon called back.

Zander winked. “Guess he doesn’t want Sam knowing all his dirty secrets, eh?”

Megan snorted. “He doesn’t know the half of hers.”

“Hey!” Sam yelled.

“What’s that?” Megan asked pointing to the stone castle that jutted up in the middle of town.

Zander rolled the window down to give her a closer look, letting the salty tang of sea air blow into the car and rustle Megan’s glossy black hair. “That old relic is the Dalkey Castle.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Dalkey was a medieval port. Dates back to 700 AD.”

“That’s incredible,” Megan whispered.

Zander smirked as he watched her stare at the stone building like it possessed magic powers. “No castles in Boston, then?”

“Not unless you count Fenway Park.”

“And I do!” Sam yelled with pride.

Megan rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at the back of her friend’s head, making Zander wish they were alone in the car. He had a sudden desire to kiss the raven-haired beauty sitting next to him. He was already having a hard enough time keeping his hands off of her curvaceous body—but maybe that’s what happens when you spend three years cyber flirting with someone?

Zander couldn’t resist smelling the floral scent of her jet black hair as he moved his lips softly against her ear. “Do ye hear that?”

Megan shivered. “Hear what?”

Zander pulled her closer. “That wailing sound.”

Megan listened harder. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Do ye hear that, Dev? We found another one who can’t hear the Banshee singin’,” Zander announced.

“Aye, she mustn’t be Irish,” Devon teased.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

“How?” Megan asked, her blue eyes as round as saucers.

“Throw her in the sea,” Zander shouted, hoisting Megan onto his lap as they drove passed the harbor.

Megan shrieked and giggled as Zander tickled her.

“No! No,” she panted. “I’m part Irish,” Megan insisted. “I swear!”

“Then the banshee will spit ye back out,” Zander said squeezing her tight.

Her angelic face paled. “Did people really think that?”

“Of course, doll face. And we dance naked under rainbows and swim in pots of gold, too.”

Megan narrowed her brilliant blue eyes at him. “Ha, ha, pick on the tourist.”

“You make it too easy, love.”

Megan’s pretty face was screwed up in the, I-disagree-with-you, scowl that Zander had come to adore.

“I’m just messing about. I know ye can handle it. Yer full a piss ‘n vinegar.”

“That’s the Irish part of me,” Megan boasted, playfully shoving Zander.

“Are ye really Irish?”

“Yes, partly.”

“Which part?” Zander asked. “This part?”

Megan squealed as he grabbed her sides, tickling her until she was howling again.