Chapter 6
D inner ? Declan's peacock asked in disbelief. Our mate is soft and warm and delicious and right here and you want to go to dinner ?
Declan did not, in fact, particularly want to go to dinner, because Tara was indeed soft and warm and delicious and right there . Unfortunately for him, right there was in a small copse of half-grown trees in a public park, and there was absolutely nothing he could do with soft, warm, delicious and right there in a place like the Shamrock Safari Wildlife Park.
That, and he did feel it was important to explain that he knew, in his body and heart and soul, through magic and a good dose of obvious attraction, that he was meant to be with her forever. Shifters were one thing, to his mind. She'd taken that quite well. But fated mates was a whole 'nother level, and he genuinely believed a mate should have the whole thing explained to them before a relationship got too far.
And judging from that kiss, a single day with Tara was enough relationship to start thinking about that conversation. Declan made himself straighten away from Tara so he didn't kiss her again as her eyes lit with laughter. "Dinner," she echoed. "Dinner, huh? What's on the menu?"
His mind went all kinds of places it shouldn't have, at least not before that conversation, and Tara's mouth quirked into a sly, sly smile at whatever his expression did. "Oh, so that's what's for dinner?"
"If we weren't in a park," Declan said a bit vacantly, and to his surprise, Tara wrinkled her nose.
"God, no. Leaves and dirt get everywhere. Not quite as bad as sand at the beach, but not great , trust me."
"I'll take your word for it. I haven't actually, em. Ever had sex outside. Now that I'm thinking about it."
Tara's eyebrows rose and she repeated, "Trust me," firmly before taking her phone out to glance at the time, and then to nod. "Dinner sounds good, actually. Wait, though." She took a step or two backward, lifting her phone, then said, "Turn your head to the left just a little," before taking a picture and then showing Declan a portrait of himself that made his jaw drop.
"God almighty, you've made me look like a superhero!"
"Ah, no, I think it's your genetics that did that. I probably won't, but just in case I decide to, could I get your permission to post this to my social media group? They're basically my photography fans," Tara said, sounding a little shy. "I'm under strict instructions to take pictures of all the nice Irish people I meet. Probably not you, though."
Declan hmphed. "I'm not nice enough, is that it?"
"You're too much of a thirst trap," Tara said drolly, and walked away as Declan stood there smiling foolishly. After a moment she looked back, eyebrows raised curiously. "Coming?"
Declan, very under his breath, said, "Not yet, I'm not," and hurried to catch up as his peacock said, What's that mean? What's that mean? What does that mean?
They went somewhere nice for dinner, and Declan could hardly remember where, much less what he'd eaten. He spent the entire meal smiling at Tara, whose eyes brightened with animation and happiness as she talked about photography, about her supporters, and about how she'd always wanted to visit Ireland. "I didn't know you had Starbucks here," she said with a trace of embarrassment. "I think I was imagining it as…I don't know. Almost not a real place. Although, in my defense, the first person I met here turned out to be actually magical."
Declan couldn't help his laugh. "But not a leprechaun."
"No, although let's not pretend there's not a lot of leaning into that in this country! The Leprechaun Museum?" Tara demanded, and Declan raised his palms to her, still grinning.
"I'm not arguing. The Leprechaun Museum is a delight, by the way, if you intend on spending any time in Dublin, but I'm not arguing. There's a Leprechaun Limos company there, too. One of their employees is famous on Irish socials, she's hashtag Murder Driver."
Tara's eyebrows nearly flew off her face. "She's a murderer?"
"No, no, she just keeps getting involved in solving murders. Amateur sleuth, like. I didn't think they were even real."
Tara coughed on a laugh and murmured, "Says the man who can turn into a peacock?"
Declan opened his mouth and shut it again, feeling silly. "Well, when you put it like that."
"And then the Shamrock Safari Wildlife Park," Tara went on. "And there was a place I saw, what was it called…" She grabbed her phone and searched for something, then waved the screen at him with a grin. "The Fairy University at Bunratty?"
"Oh, God. " Declan put his face in his hands. "All right, yeah, you're not wrong, we do lean into it here and there. Maybe it's fair enough for Americans to think we're a magical place."
Tara breathed, "Just like Tahiti," leaving Declan to blink at her in bewilderment. She laughed and waved it away. "Never mind. Look, I know it's not late but I've just realized that if I eat another bite I'm going to collapse into the plate. I think I'd better go back to the hotel and sleep. How do I get from Cobh to Blarney easily in the morning?"
"The train and a bus." Declan made a face. "Or I could collect you?"
"Well—" Tara got her phone out again, obviously looking it all up. "You said you live in Cork City? Am I reading this right? There's only one extremely tiny road out to Cobh?" She glanced at him and Declan made another face, this one of agreement. Tara nodded. "What if we split the difference and I take the train into Cork and then you get me at the station?"
Declan, feeling slightly guilty, admitted, "That would be much easier, honestly. The drive to Cobh is indecent in the mornings."
Tara smiled, bright and sweet, and he felt himself tumbling farther into desire and affection. The mate bond was like nothing he'd expected: the conviction that they were right for each other was powerful, and let him completely trust his sudden, sheer adoration of a woman he barely knew. He just wanted to spend time with her, learn everything about her that she wanted to share, and—even though he knew the bond was meant to work both ways—to convince her that he was the man she might not have even known she was looking for. He wanted to be worthy of her laughter and smiles and more of those incredible kisses she'd offered earlier.
"It's funny," he said aloud, and then didn't know where to go with that, because saying I always tried to be a good boyfriend but now there's nothing more important in the world seemed like a bit much to lay on Tara when he hadn't even tried to explain the power of fate in shifter relationships.
She tilted her head, waiting, then looked amused. "What's funny? An indecent drive?"
"How much I wasn't expecting my week to go this way," Declan said, "and how glad I am that it has."
"Imagine how I feel," Tara said. "Off to Ireland for the vacation of a lifetime, and instead of kissing the Blarney Stone I'm chasing a peacock-feather thief with the most gorgeous guy I've ever seen."
Declan beamed like an idiot. "Am I, then?"
Tara, dryly, said, "Oh, don't go fishing for compliments. I assume mirrors work for shifters."
"Sure and I'm handsome enough," Declan said with as broad an accent as he could manage, "but a fellow likes to get a compliment now and then too, doesn't he? Oh, no," he added as she signaled for the check. "Let me, please?"
"You bought dinner last night," Tara protested.
"I know, but you're on holiday. Spend your money on going places your social media friends want to see pictures of, not on food."
The temptation was clear in Tara's face, although she still hesitated. Declan, feeling clever, said, "Wait, I know. You can photograph some of my art so I can use the pictures in a brochure, in exchange. I'm absolute shite at it."
Relief swept her pretty features and Tara nodded. "That seems fair. Thank you."
"No, thank you , it's doing me a favor. Tomorrow after we've seen what there is to see at Blarney, maybe?"
"Perfect." Tara smiled. "So I'll see you…well, bright and early, since I'm supposed to meet Ms Snootypants at nine."
Declan laughed out loud. "Snootypants?"
"Pretty sure that's her real last name," Tara said solemnly, and Declan laughed again.
"Sure and it's as fine an Irish name as I've ever heard. I'll meet you at the train station at…" He grimaced, thinking. "I'd say as early as eight, to get through the morning traffic. Will that be all right?"
"It will be if I go to sleep soon," Tara promised, and they parted ways so she could sleep and Declan could rush home and clean his studio, which wasn't fit for man nor beast, never mind his fated mate to do a photo shoot in. It kept him up far too late, and he had to stop for the world's largest coffee at his favorite local shop before meeting Tara at the train station. He brought her one, too, and when she emerged from the train with sleepy hazel eyes, her hair all tied up in a soft knot at the back of her head, and a sweet smile that lit into pure joy when she saw him and a takeaway cup, he felt as if he'd climbed the highest peaks and triumphed as a man.
And peacock, his bird said a bit sullenly.
Declan, halfway through the last sips of his own coffee, snorted the now lukewarm liquid and ended up giggling with coffee dribbling out his nose. Tara froze in the motion of taking her cup, eyes wide and confused before he mumbled, "My, uh, my bird thinks I'm not servicing him well enough?"
As soon as he spoke he knew he'd phrased it badly, and Tara's eyes brightened with tears of amusement that she managed to hold back long enough to say, "Are you telling me your cock isn't well-serviced?" and then turned so red, both from blushes and humor, that she actually staggered to one of the station's red brick walls and leaned against it, crying with laughter.
His peacock, offended and confused, said, Well, I'm not !
"Lip service," Declan said desperately, knowing it was already far, far too late.
Tara threw her head back and absolutely howled, drawing attention from morning commuters and obviously not caring at all. "Lip service, I bet your cock isn't getting enough lip service!"
"I mean he thinks I'm not giving him enough credit, I mean—oh, God. " Declan put his face in his hands, laughing while Tara near enough melted against the wall, weak with laughter. "I was thinking I'd done so well bringing you coffee!" Declan protested, still trying to make it better. "I felt like I'd done something amazing, like climbed Mount Everest! Like I was a triumph of a man!"
AND PEACOCK, his bird said again, and Declan, dying inside, gave up as Tara slid down the wall, giggling helplessly. She was absolutely beautiful, completely lost in the moment, a joy to watch, and Declan thought, God, I love this woman , before sinking down beside her and putting his arm around her shoulder. "I'm never coming back from this, am I?"
Tara tilted her head against his shoulder, still shaking with laughter. "No, but oh, man, you're perfect. Totally perfect. I've never laughed so hard in my life." She tipped her head up, looking at him, and Declan dipped his head to kiss her.