Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
But I had the measure of a man such as Brian Kavanagh and I knew he’d never believe it.
I was validated when he laughed sharply, wagging his finger at me playfully.
“As if,” he said, shaking his head. “Come on now, what’d ye really do?”
There’s no telling where the sudden burst of rebellion came from, but I sat up ramrod straight in my chair. “I told ye. I ran steeplechase.”
He scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “Everyone knows women shouldn’t be doin’ that. Too dangerous.”
My hands curled into fists under the table. “And why’s that?”
Brian hesitated, then shrugged. “Ye could get hurt.”
“So what?”
He frowned, clearly confused by my lack of agreement. “Well, I wouldn’t let my daughters or my wife do anythin’ so reckless.”
I inhaled sharply, preparing to tear into him, but then he leaned forward, his tone shifting.
“Ye know our parents want us to marry, right?”
I froze. Was he really going there so quickly?
Brian gave me an easy smile, settling back in his seat. “It’s a good match, Fi. Glenhaven and Kavanagh Stud—together, we’d be unstoppable. Think about the legacy we’d build. The bloodlines, the success.” He sat back, confident. “I imagine it won’t take long before we’re married because I can sense we have a good connection. We’ll have a good life together. A lovely home, lots of kids.”
My mind wandered again.
Tommy. The way he’d looked at me today, full of admiration, not dismissal. The way he’d celebrated my run, called me fearless.
Brian’s voice cut back in. “What do ye think? How many kids do ye want?”
I blinked. “What?”
He grinned. “I was askin’ how many kids ye want. I’m thinkin’ three.”
At this point, I decided to go with it and see just how insane the conversation could turn.
I batted my eyes at him. “I was thinkin’ seven. Maybe eight. I like even numbers.”
Brian looked momentarily startled, but then nodded, as if genuinely considering it. “Seven’s a lot, but I think we could manage.”
I stifled a groan. He truly didn’t get it.
“I mean,” he continued as our dinner plates were delivered, “if ye want seven, that’s a lot of work on ye.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I have the easier part, if ye know what I mean. But anyway, we’d have to have a fairly large home. Maybe we can move into Conlan Manor at Glenhaven. It’s plenty big…”
I stared at him, watching his mouth move, but I stopped hearing the words. It was amazing that he could talk and eat at the same time, barely pausing in between bites. Once again, I let my mind drift. It immediately filled with images of the dark-haired lad from America, but I even managed to push those aside for a tiny bit and wondered what tomorrow would be like running Brannagh at Kildare.
♦
The ride home was quieter and I’m guessing Brian ran out of things to say when I barely engaged with him. I wasn’t impressed with a single thing he told me, and his mood seemed a bit duller by the time we pulled into Glenhaven Estate.
He slowed his Porsche on the gravel road that wound past pastures and barns. I was exhausted from the evening and had let my head rest against the cool pane of the passenger window.
As we neared the training center, movement caught my eye and I spotted Tommy sitting on one of the railings, a bottle of what looked to be whiskey in his hand. He was illuminated by the outdoor lights over the smaller lunging ring, but his face was slightly shadowed. I couldn’t see him clearly, but I sat up straighter as we slowly passed him, my neck twisting to look back his way.
My lips curved upward when he lifted the bottle as if in silent invitation to join him.
The air left my lungs.
I turned back in the seat, watching as my home drew nearer. The lights were on in my father’s study and there was no doubt he would be waiting up for me.
It was so hard to resist the urge to bolt inside, but I politely waited for Brian to walk me toward the door. My nose wrinkled as he leaned in, intent on kissing me, but I turned my head swiftly.
His lips met my cheek and when he pulled back, he looked confused for a moment but recovered quickly. “Let’s do this again soon, yeah?”
I forced a smile. “I’ll check me calendar.”
“Do that,” he said, taking a few steps back. “At the least, we’ll spend time together at the summer festival next week, yeah?”
No.
No. No. No.
I lifted my hand in a polite farewell.
And with that, I turned, stepping inside, my heart already somewhere else entirely.
As expected, my da was waiting in the foyer, his hands tucked into the pockets of his lounging jacket tied around his waist. “Well?” he drawled.
“It was a lovely evening,” I said, never having told a more blatant lie to my father.