Hot Property (Irish romantic comedy) (21 page)

She looked up and blinked. “Paudie?”

“Yes, it’s me.” Dressed in a suede jacket and beige chinos, his hair brushed, he looked unusually polished and glamorous. His eyes on her were tender and a little shy. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. What are you doing here?”

He smiled. “Came to say goodbye and bon voyage.”

“Oh? Why? I thought you’d never want to speak to me again.”

He looked at her for a while without replying. “Oh, I didn’t. For a long time. But then I came to miss my best friend. There was nobody to needle me or ask awkward questions. No one to share my cold pizza. My sock drawer’s a mess. My life was too quiet and easy.”

“And boring?” Megan shuffled forward as the queue moved.

“Yes.” He took her arm and leaned against her. “Can we move away from here?” he whispered in her ear. “Too many people listening.”

“But I have to check in. I’m going to Paris.”

He looked at the sign over the check-in desk. “So I gather. But then, I can read.”

She stifled a laugh. “How did you know I was here?”

“Diana. She told me early this morning when I helped her move the horses. I said I didn’t know where you were and that I needed to talk to you. So she took one look at my miserable face and said ‘go after her, you fool’. So I did. Took me a while to clean up.” He looked at Megan sheepishly. “But here I am. A big fool.”

“Yes. And your hair is sticking up at the back.”

He patted it down. “Didn’t have time to style it.”

“It looks good.
You
look good. Oh, I’m nearly there.” Megan took out her passport. “Not much time. But you can walk me to the security gate.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. That’s a great honour.”

Megan giggled. She checked in her suitcase and gathered up her boarding pass. “We only have a few minutes. My flight will be boarding soon.”

“I know.”

They walked together across the vast departures hall and came to a stop in front of the escalator. Paudie put his hands on Megan’s shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. He took a deep breath. “I love you.”

She felt tears well up. “Oh, Paudie. And I love you. I really do.”

“No need to say more then, is there?”

“No. And I’ll be back in a week.”

“Good. You go to Paris, girl, and have a good time. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir.” Megan laughed between tears and put her arms around his waist. “I have to go,” she whispered into his neck.

“I know. Just one more thing. Give me your hand.”

“Why?” she lifted her right hand.

“Because.” He took the Claddagh ring, pulled it off her finger and turned it around, placing it on the third finger of her left hand. “See? Now the point of the crown is toward your finger. You know what that means?”

She nodded. “I do.” She looked up at him. “I’ll wear it like this from now on.”

“Yes,” he said. “You will. Always.”

THE END