Free The Mighty Quinns: Riley by Kate Hoffmann Page B

of the top ten most romantic places in Ireland,” he said.
    â€œIs that why you brought me here?” Nan asked.
    â€œI’d forgotten about it until now,” he said. “When we read the news article at the pub we were all laughing. How could they have called this pile of rocks romantic? But I see it now. I guess it all has to do with the person you’re with.”
    When they got to the top of the rise, they stood alone at the overlook. “We’ve one foot in County Cork and one foot in County Kerry,” he said. Riley pointedtoward the view. “There is the River Kenmare and Glenmore Lake. And just through those mountains, you can see Bantry Bay, not far from Ballykirk.”
    â€œIt is romantic,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. “But it would be more romantic if you kissed me.”
    â€œAre you giving me orders now, woman?” he teased. “I can’t just be kissing you whenever the mood strikes.”
    â€œWell, you don’t have to do anything. I’ll do all the work.”
    â€œMake it good,” Riley warned. He closed his eyes and puckered his mouth. Nan started laughing and he looked at her, glad to see that he could tease her out of a quiet mood.
    â€œStop,” she said, grabbing his chin. “Make your mouth go the right way.”
    â€œLike this?” He pulled another face and she patted his lips with her fingers. “How about this?”
    â€œNo. Just make your mouth soft. Now, part your lips just a little bit.” She smiled. “There. That’s better.”
    â€œAre you ready now? Or maybe you’d like me to stand on my head?”
    â€œI’m ready.” As she moved closer, they both kept their eyes open and at the last moment, a fit of giggles overtook her. “This is not going to work. I can’t kiss you if you’re acting silly.”
    He softly touched his lips to hers. “Yes, you can. You can’t resist me.”
    â€œI do like you,” Nan said. “You’re a very likeable guy.”
    â€œA sound bloke,” he said.
    â€œA straight-up dude,” she said, putting on a slacker voice.
    He smoothed his hand through her hair. “So we’re all right? You seemed…preoccupied earlier in the car.”
    â€œI was. But it wasn’t about you.”
    â€œYou were thinking about your ma.” He gave her a fierce hug. “Don’t be sad about that. You’ll find her here. At least what she left behind. You have the letters and now the photo. Who knows what other clues we’ll find?”
    She pulled the photo from her pocket. “Do you recognize anyone in the picture?”
    â€œHow would I—” He examined the photo more intently. “It was taken in front of the pub, I can tell you that. See there? That’s what the shutters used to look like before my da made new ones.” His brow furrowed. “I don’t know. No one looks even vaguely familiar. But this was taken when? When I was a year old? My da might know. Or Jimmy McPhee, his old partner. He still lives in Ballykirk. He owned the pub when this photo was taken, before my da came in as a partner. He’s about eighty now, but his mind is still sharp.”
    â€œWould you ask him?”
    â€œWe’ll both go,” he said. “We can stop by on our way back to the cottage.”
    â€œI’m almost afraid to know for sure,” Nan said. “If he tells me that red-haired woman is Molly Malone from Dublin, I’ll probably start crying and I’ll make a fool out of myself.”
    â€œDon’t worry. I’ve got a perfectly good sleeve here to wipe your tears away.”
    She smiled at him, then pulled out her camera and turned it on. Wrapping her arm around his neck, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and snapped a picture. When it came up on the screen, she showed it to him. “You and me in the most romantic place in Ireland,” she